University of California. 
 
 (ri>:'T f)y 
 
 
FORMATION 
 
 CHRISTIAN CHARACTER 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archivt 
 
 in 2007 with funding from 
 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/formationofchri600warer, 
 
FORMATION 
 
 CHRISTIAN CHARACTER, 
 
 ADDRESSED TO THOSE WHO ARE SEEKING 
 TO LEAD A RELIGIOUS LIFE I 
 
 PEOGEESS OF THE CHEISTIAN LIFE; 
 
 A SEQUEL TO THE "FORMATION OP THE 
 CHRISTIAN CHARACTER." 
 
 By HENEY ware, Jr. 
 
 newTedition. 
 
 f 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 AMERICAN UNITARIAN ASSOCIATION. 
 
 1867. 
 

 Entered according to Act of Congress, m the year 1856, 
 
 By James Munroe and Company, 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the liistrict Court of MassachusetU 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 In presenting to the religious public this 
 L Je book, the writer has only to say, that he 
 undertook it because he thought that a work 
 of this character was needed and would be 
 welcome. During his active ministry, he had 
 often felt the want of a book on personal re- 
 ligion, different, in some respects, from any 
 which had fallen in his way ; and when com- 
 pelled by ill health to relinquish his pastoral 
 caresj he attempted to beguile some of the 
 languid hours of a weary convalescence by 
 efforts at composing such an one. The re- 
 sult has come very far short of the idea which 
 he had formed in his mind. The book was 
 
 written at distant and uncertain intervals, upon 
 b 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 journeys and in pubKc houses, and has been 
 now revised for the press in the midst of 
 other cares, which have allowed no time for 
 giving it the completeness he desired. Yet, 
 as it belongs to a class of writings of whose 
 importance he has the highest sense, and the 
 multiplication of which, as well as the in- 
 crease of a taste for their perusal, he esteems 
 in the highest measure desirable, — ^he ven- 
 tures to hope that this slight effort will not be 
 wholly lost ; and that it may at least do some- 
 thing towards exciting others to a preparation 
 of more efficient works, which shall nourish 
 the spirit of devotion, and extend the power 
 of practical faith. 
 
 Cambridge, May 16. 1831. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 IlfTRODUCTION^ 1 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 The JVature of Religion, and what we are to 
 seek. — Religion described — exemplified in the 
 character of Christ — an arduous attainment — 
 caution against low views .... 6 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 Our Power to obtain that which we seek. — The 
 capacity for religion in human nature — educa- 
 tion — the natural and the spiritual life — man's 
 ability to do the will of God — false humility — 
 salvation by grace . . . . . IS 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The State of Mind in which the Inquirer should 
 sustain himself. — Sense of unworthiness — anxi- 
 ety of mind — rules to be observed respecting 
 retirement, conversation, public meetings . 34 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The Means of Religious Improvement . . 47 
 
 I. Reading. — Duty of seeking religious knowl- 
 
 ^ edge — its advantages — time to be given to it 
 
 — the Bible — to be read for instruction in 
 
 truth — for self- application — selection of other 
 
 books . . . , . . .47 
 
Vlll CONTENTS. 
 
 II. Meditation. — Its object — habitual thoughtful 
 ness — seasons of meditation — enjoyment to be 
 expected in them — caution — three purposes to 
 
 be answered 68 
 
 III. Prayer. — Its necessity and value — impor- 
 tance of set times — method to be observed — 
 subjects — posture — language — frequency and 
 brevity— ejaculatory prayer — faith, fervor, per- 
 severance—answers to prayer — topics — in the 
 name of Christ — caution — spirit of devotion 82 
 
 IV. Preaching. — A divine institution — necessity 
 of preparation for hearing — a critical disposition 
 — reflection on what has been heard — on keep- 
 ing a record of sermons — weakness of memory 
 
 — a taste for preaching to be pt-eserved . . 119 
 
 V. The Lord's Supper, — Its object two-fold, pro- 
 fession of faith, and means of improvement — 
 who to partake, and when — an affecting and 
 comprehensive rite — an opportunity for silent 
 worship — conclusion . . . 136 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The Religious Discipline of Life. — The means 
 of religion not to be mistaken for the end — 
 watchfulness, daily duties and trials — discipline 
 of the thoughts, dispositions, passions, appetites 
 — conversation — ordinary deportment — guard to 
 be kept over the principles — and over the 
 habits .149 
 
FORMATION 
 
 CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I AM anxious to bespeak the reader's right 
 attention before he enters on the following 
 pages. They have been written only for 
 those who are sincerely desirous of knowing 
 themselves, and are bent upon forming a re- 
 igious character. They can be of little 
 nterest or value to any other person, or if 
 read with any other view than that of self- 
 improvement. I venture therefore to entreat 
 every one, into whose hands the book may 
 fall, to peruse it, as it has been written, not 
 for entertainment, but for moral edification ; 
 to read it at those seasons when he is seri- 
 ously disposed, and can reflect upon the 
 1 
 
58 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 important topics presented to his view. I 
 am solicitous to aid him in the formation of 
 his Christian character, and about every 
 other result I am indifferent. 
 
 I would even presume, further, to warn 
 one class of readers, and that not a small 
 one, against a danger which lurks even in 
 their established respect for religion. That 
 general regard for it, which grows out of the 
 circumstances of education and the habits 
 of society, may be rr'staken for a religious 
 state of mind ; yet it is perfectly consistent 
 with religious indifference. A man may 
 sincerely honor, advocate, and uphold the 
 religion of Christ on account of its general 
 influence, its beneficial public tendency, its 
 humane and civilizing consequences, without 
 at all subjecting his own temper and life to 
 its laws, or being in any proper sense a sub- 
 ject of the peculiar happiness it imparts. 
 This is perhaps not an infrequent case. 
 Men need to be made sensible that religion 
 is a personal thing, a matter of personal 
 application and experience. Unless it is so 
 considered, it will scarcely be ai> object of 
 earnest pursuit, or of fervent, hearty interest. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 3 
 
 nor can it exert its true and thorough in- 
 fluence on the character. Indeed, its desi- 
 rable influence upon the state of society can 
 be gained only through this deep personal 
 devotion to it of individuals; because none 
 but this is genuine religion, and the genuine 
 only can exhibit the genuine power. 
 
 I know of nothing to be more earnestly 
 desired, than that men should cease to look 
 upon religion as designed for others, and 
 should come to regard it as primarily affect- 
 ing themselves; that they should first and 
 most seriously study its relation to their own 
 hearts, and be above all things anxious about 
 their own characters. His is but a partial 
 and unsatisfactory faith, which is concerned 
 wholly with the state of society in general, and 
 allows him to neglect the discipline of his 
 own affections and the culture of his own 
 spiritual nature. He is but poorly fitted to 
 honor or promote the cause of Christ, who has 
 not first subjected his own soul to his holy 
 government. There are men enough, when 
 Christianity is prevalent and honorable, to 
 lend it their countenance and pay it external 
 homage. We want more thorough, consistent 
 
4 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 exemplifications of its purity, benevolence, 
 and spirituality. These can be found only in 
 men, who love it for its own sake, and because 
 it is * the wisdom of God and the power of God 
 unto salvation,' and not simply because it is 
 respectable in the eyes of the world, and 
 favorable to the decency and order of the com- 
 monwealth. It is for those who are seeking 
 this end, and for such only, that I write. 
 
V'^^'.i 
 
 CHAPTER 1. 
 
 THE NATURE OF RELIGION, AND WHAT WE ARE 
 TO SEEK. 
 
 In order to the intelligent and successful 
 pursuit of any object, it is necessary, first of 
 all, to have a definite conception of what we 
 desire to effect or obtain. This is especially 
 important in the study of Religion, both 
 because of the extent and variety of the sub- 
 ject itself, and because of the very different 
 apprehensions of men respecting it. Many 
 are disheartened and fail, in consequence of 
 setting out with wrong views and false ex- 
 pectations. From which cause religion itself 
 suffers ; being made answerable for failures, 
 which are entirely owing to the unreasonable 
 anticipations and ill-directed efforts of those 
 who enlisted in her service, but did not per- 
 severe in it. 
 
 Let us begin, then, with considering what 
 is the object at which we aim when we seek 
 a religious character. 
 1* 
 
O THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 
 
 Religion, in a general sense, is founded 
 on man's relation and accountableness to his 
 Maker : and it consists in cherishing the 
 sentiments and performing the duties which 
 thence result, and which belong to the other 
 relations to other beings which God has ap- 
 pointed him to sustain. 
 
 Concerning these relations, sentiments, and 
 duties, we are instructed in the Scriptures, 
 especially in the New Testament. Religion, 
 with us, is the Christian religion. It is found 
 in the teachings and example of Jesus Christ 
 It consists in the worship, the sentiments, and 
 the character, which he enjoined, and which 
 he illustrated m his own person. 
 
 What you are to seek, therefore, is, under 
 the guidance of Jesus Christ, to feel your 
 relation to God, and to live under a sense of 
 responsibility to him ; to cultivate assiduously 
 those sentiments and affections which spring 
 out of this responsible and filial relation, as 
 well as those which arise out of your connex- 
 ion with other men as his offspring; to per- 
 form all the duties to Him and them, which 
 appertain to this character and relation ; and 
 to cherish that heavenward tendency of mind. 
 
THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 7 
 
 which should spring from a consciousness of 
 possessing an immortal nature. He who does 
 all this is a religious man, or, in oth<^.* words, 
 a Christian. 
 
 You desire to be a Christian. To this are 
 requisite three things : belief in the truths 
 which the gospel reveals; possession of the 
 state of mind which it enjoins ; and perform- 
 ance of the duties which it requires: or, I 
 may ^ay, the subjection of the mind by faith, 
 the subjection of the heart by love, the sub- 
 jection of the will by obedience. This uni- 
 versal submission of yourself to God is what 
 you are to aim at. This is Religion. 
 
 Observe how extensive a thing it is. It is a 
 principle of the mind ; founded upon thought, 
 reflection, inquiry, argument ; and leading to 
 devotion and duty as most reasonable and 
 suitable for intelligent beings. 
 
 It is a sentiment or affection of the heart ; 
 not the cold judgment of the intellect alone, in 
 favor of what is right; but a warm, glowing 
 feeling of preference and desire ; a feeling, 
 which attaches itself in love to the Father of 
 all and to all good beings ; which turns duty 
 into inclination, and pursues virtue from im- 
 
8 THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 
 
 pulse; which prefers and delights in that 
 which is well pleasing to God, and takes an 
 afFectio:_ate interest in the things to which the 
 Saviour devoted himself. 
 
 It is a rule of life ; it is the law of God ; 
 causing the external conduct to correspond to 
 the principle which is established, and the 
 sentiment which breathes, within ; bringing 
 every action into a conformity with the divine 
 will, and making universal holiness the stan- 
 dard of the character. 
 
 The Scriptures represent religion under 
 each of these different views. As a principle^ 
 it is called Faith ; and in this view is Faith 
 extolled as the essential thing for life and 
 sakation. We are to ' walk by faith.' We 
 are ' saved by faith.' — As a sentiment, it is 
 styled Love. Love to God and man is de- 
 clared by the Saviour to be the substance of 
 religion ; and the Apostles, especially John 
 and Paul, every where represent this universal 
 affection as the essence and the beauty of the 
 Christian character. No one can read their 
 language, and compare with it the life of 
 Christ, without perceiving how essentially true 
 reliojion is a sentiment of the heart. — As a 
 
THE NATURE OF RELIGION. l» 
 
 law or rule, it is spoken of throughout the 
 Scriptures. It is a commandment of God, 
 requiring obedience. We are Uo do his will.' 
 Christ is the ' author of salvation to those that 
 obey him.' * If thou wilt enter into life, keep 
 the commandments.' * He who keepeth my 
 commandments, he it is that loveth me.' 
 
 In the general complexion of Scripture, and 
 in many particular passages, these several 
 views are united : thus we are told, that ' the 
 fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suf- 
 fering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, 
 temperance ;' that the blessing of God belongs 
 to the humble, penitent, meek, pure in heart, 
 merciful, and peaceful ; that the Christian 
 character consists in * whatsoever is true, 
 honest, just, pure, lovely, and of good report :' 
 in adding to ' faith, virtue, knowledge, tem- 
 perance, patience, godliness, brotherly kind- 
 ness, and charity ;' and * in denying ungodli- 
 ness and wordly lusts, and living soberly, 
 righteously, and godly.'* 
 
 Yoii see, then, what is the character of the 
 
 * Gal. v. 22, 23.— Matthew, v. 3-9.— Philip, iv. 8. 
 -2 Peter, i. 6, 7 —Titus, ii. 12. 
 
10 THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 
 
 religion which you are seeking. You per- 
 ceive that it implies the absolute supremacy 
 of the soul and its interests over all the ob- 
 jects and interests of the present state ; and 
 that its primary characteristic is a certain state 
 of mind and affections. It is not the external 
 conduct, not the observance of the moral law 
 alone, which constitutes a religious man ; 
 but the principles from which he acts, the 
 motives by which he is governed, the state of 
 his heart. A principle of spiritual life per- 
 vades his intellectual nature, gives a complexion 
 to his whole temper, and is the spring of that 
 moral worth, which is in other men the result 
 of education, circumstances, or interest. He 
 is actuated by a prevailing sense of God, and 
 the desire of a growing resemblance to his 
 moral image. He is possessed with the 
 perpetual consciousness of his immortality ; 
 and is not ashamed to deny himself any of the 
 gratifications of the present hour, when there- 
 by he may keep his mind more disengaged for 
 the study of truth and the contemplation t)f his 
 highest good. Living thus with his chief 
 sources of happiness within hnn, he bears with 
 equanimity the changes and trials of earth, 
 
THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 11 
 
 and tastes something of the peculiar felicity of 
 heaven, which is * righteousness, and peace, 
 and joy in a holy spirit ;' and, like his master, 
 who sojourned below, but whose affections 
 were above, he does his Father's will as he 
 passes through the world, but has treasured 
 up his supreme good in his Father's future 
 presence. 
 
 But if you would discern the full excellence 
 and loveliness of the religious life, do not 
 rest satisfied with studying the law, or musing 
 over the descriptions of it. Go to the perfect 
 pattern, which has been set before the be- 
 liever for his guidance and encouragement. 
 Look unto Jesus, the author and finisher of 
 your faith. In him are exhibited all the vir- 
 tues which you are to practise, all the affec- 
 tions and graces which you are to cultivate. 
 In him is that rich assemblage of beautiful 
 and attractive excellences, which has been 
 the admiration of all reflecting men, the 
 astonishment and eulogy of eloquent unbe- 
 .^evers, and the guide, consolation, and trust, 
 of faithful disciples. In the dignity and 
 sweetness which characterize him, how 
 strongly do we feel that there is much more 
 
12 THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 
 
 than a display of external qualities, conform- 
 ity to a prescribed rule, and graceful propriety 
 of outward demeanor. Nothing is more 
 striking than the evident connexion of every 
 thing which he said and did with something 
 internal. The sentiment and disposition 
 which reign within, are constantly visible 
 through his exterior deportment; and we re- 
 gard his words and his deeds less as distinct 
 outward things, than as expressions or repre- 
 sentations of character. As, in looking on 
 certain countenances, we have no thought of 
 color, feature, or form, but simply of the 
 moral or intellectual qualities which they 
 suggest ; so, in contemplating the life of 
 Jesus, we find ourselves perpetually looking 
 beyond his mere actions, and fixing our 
 thoughts on the qualities which they indicate. 
 His life is but the expressive countenance of 
 his soul. We feel, that, though in the midst 
 of present things, he is led by principles, 
 wrapt in thoughts, pervaded by sentiments, 
 which are above earth, unearthly; that he is 
 walking in communion with another sphere ; 
 ffiid that the objects around him are matters 
 of interest to him, no further than as the) 
 
THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 13 
 
 afford materials for the exercise of his benevo- 
 lence, and opportunities for doing his Fa 
 ther's will. 
 
 This_js_Jhe personification of religion. 
 This is the model which you are to imitate. 
 And it is when you shall be imbued with 
 this spirit, when you shall be filled with 
 this sentiment, when your words, actions, 
 and life, shall be only the spontaneous ex- 
 pression of this state of mind, — it is then 
 that you will have attained the religious 
 character, and become spiritually the child 
 of God. You will have built up the king- 
 dom of God within you ; its purity, its de- 
 votion, and its peace, will be shed abroad in 
 your heart, and thence will display them- 
 selves in the manners and conduct of your life. 
 
 To attain and perfect this character is to 
 be the object of your desire, and the busi- 
 ness of your life. You must never lose sight 
 of it. In all that you learn, think, feel, and 
 do, you are to have reference to this end. 
 Whatever tends to promote this, you are to 
 cherish and favor. Whatever hinders this, 
 or in any degree operates injuriously upon 
 it, you are to discountenance and shun. All 
 2 
 
14 THE NATURE OF REIJGTON. 
 
 that gives bias to your passions and appe- 
 tites, to your inclinations and thoughts, to 
 your opinion of yourself, to your conduct 
 toward others, your private or public employ- 
 ment of your time, your business and gains, 
 your recreation and pleasures, is to be judged 
 of by this standard, and condemned or ap- 
 proved accordingly. You are to feel that 
 nothing is of such consequence to you as the 
 Christian character ; that to form this is the 
 very work for which you were sent into the 
 world ; that if this be not done, you do noth- 
 ing, — you had better never have been born ; 
 for your life is wasted without effecting its 
 object, and your soul enters eternity without 
 having secured its salvation. The provisions 
 of God's mercy are slighted, and, for you, the 
 Saviour has lived and died in vain. 
 
 It is plain, then, that the work to which you 
 address yourself is arduous as well as delight- 
 ful. It is not to be done in a short time, nor 
 by a few indolent or violent efforts ; not by an 
 exercise of speculative reason, nor by an ex- 
 citement of feeling, nor by assent to profes- 
 sions, forms, and rites ; not by a love of hear- 
 ing the word preached, nor by attention 
 
THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 15 
 
 to the morals of ordinary life, nor by stead- 
 fastness in the virtues which are easy and 
 pleasant ; — but only by a surrender of the 
 whole man and the entire life to the will of 
 God, in faith, affection, and action ; by a 
 thorough imitation of Jesus in the devout 
 and humble temper of his mind, in the spiritu- 
 ality of his affections, and in the purity and 
 loveliness of his conduct. Any thing less 
 than this, any partial, external, superficial con- 
 formity to a rule of decent living or ritual 
 observance, must be wholly insufficient. For 
 it cannot mould and rule the character, can- 
 not answer the claims of the Creator upon 
 his creatures, cannot prepare for the happi 
 ness which Jesus has revealed ; a happiness 
 so described, and so constituted, that none can 
 be fitted for it, or be capable of enjoying it, but 
 those who are earnestly and entirely conformed 
 to the divine will. Who can relish the spirit- 
 ual pleasures of eternity, that has not become 
 spiritually minded ? Who could enjoy admis- 
 sion to the society of Jesus and the spirits of 
 the just made perfect, that is not like them ** 
 Why should one hope for heaven, and how 
 expect to be happy there, if he have not 
 
16 THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 
 
 formed a taste for its habits of purity, worship, 
 and love? 
 
 Be on your guard, therefore, from the 
 first, against setting your mark too low. Do 
 not allow yourself to be persuaded that any 
 thing less is Religion, or will answer for you, 
 than its complete and highest measure. Re- 
 member that these things must be * in you and 
 abound.' The higher you aim, the higher 
 you will reach; but if content with a low 
 aim, you will forever fall short. The scriptural 
 word is Perfection, Strive after that. Never 
 be satisfied while short of it, and then you 
 will be always improving. But if you set 
 yourself some definite measure of goodness, 
 if you prescribe to yourself some limit in 
 devotion and love, you will by and by fancy 
 you have reached it, and thus will remain 
 stationary in a condition far below what 
 you might have attained. Remember always, 
 that you are capable of being more devout, 
 more charitable, more humble, more devoted 
 and earnest in doing good, better acquainted 
 with religious truth ; and that, as it is impos- 
 sible there should be any period to the prog- 
 ress of the human soul, so it is impossible 
 
THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 17 
 
 that the endeavor of the soul should be too 
 exalted. It is because men do not think of 
 this, or do not practically apply it, that so 
 many, even of those vi^ho intend to govern 
 themselves by religious motives, remain so 
 lamentably deficient in excellence. They 
 adopt a low or a partial standard, and strive 
 after it sluggishly, and thus come to a perioa 
 in religion before they arrive at the close of 
 life. Happy they who are so filled with long- 
 ings after spiritual good, that they go on im- 
 proving to the end of their days. 
 
18 OUR POWER TO OBTAIN 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 OUR POWER TO OBTAIN THAT WHICH WE 
 SEEK. 
 
 The account which has been given of reli- 
 gion in the preceding chapter, shows it to be 
 consonant to man's nature, and suited to the 
 faculties with which God has endowed him. 
 His soul is formed for religion, and the gospel 
 has been adapted to the constitution of his 
 soul. His understanding takes cognizance 
 of its truths, his conscience applies them, his 
 affections are capable of becoming interested in 
 them, and his. will of being subject to them. 
 There can be no moment of existence, after 
 he has come to the exercise of his rational 
 faculties, at which this is not the case. As 
 soon as he can love and obey his parents, he 
 can love and obey God ; and this is religion. 
 The capacity of doing the one is the capacity 
 of doing the other. 
 
 It is true, the latter is not so universally 
 done as the former ; but the cause is not, that 
 
THAT WHICH WE SEEK. 19 
 
 religion is unsuited to the young, but that 
 their attention is engrossed by visible objects 
 and present pleasures. Occupied with these, 
 it requires effort and pains-taking to direct 
 the mind to invisible things ; to turn the 
 attention from the objects which press them 
 on every side, to the abstract, spiritual objects 
 of faith. Hence it is easy to see, that the 
 want of early religion is owing, primarily, 
 to the circumstances in which childhood is 
 placed, and, next, to remissness in education 
 Worldly things are before the child's eye^ 
 and minister to its gratification every hour 
 and every minute ; biit religious things are 
 presented to it only in a formal and dry way 
 once a week. The things of the world are 
 made to constitute its pleasures, those of 
 religion are made its tasks. It is made to 
 feel its dependence on a parent's love every 
 hour ; but is seldom reminded of its depend- 
 ence on God, and then perhaps only in some 
 stated lesson, which it learns by compulsion, 
 and not m the midst of the actual engage- 
 ments and pleasures of its little life. It 
 partakes of the caresses of its human parents, 
 and cannot remember the time when it 
 
20 OUR POWER TO OBTAIM 
 
 was not an object of tlieir tenderness ; so 
 that their image is interwoven wi<h its very 
 existence. But God it has never seen, and 
 has seldom heard of him ; his name and 
 presence are banished from common conver- 
 sation, and inferior and visible agents receive 
 the gratitude for gifts which come from him. 
 So also the parent's authority is immediate 
 and visibly exercised, and obedience grows 
 into the rule and habit of life. But the 
 authority of God is not displayed in any 
 sensible act or declaration ; it is only heard 
 of at set times and in set tasks ; and thus it 
 fails of becoming mingled with the principles 
 of conduct, or forming a rule and habit of 
 subjection. — In a word, let it be considered 
 how little and how infrequently the idea of 
 God is brought home to the child's mind, 
 even under the most favorable circumstances, 
 and how little is done to make him the 
 object of love and obedience, in comparison 
 with what is done to unite its affections 
 to its parents ; while, at the same time, the 
 spirituality and invisibility of the Creator 
 render it necessary that even more should 
 be done ; — and it will be seen that the wan' 
 
THAT WHICH WE SEEK. 2i 
 
 of an early and spontaneous growth of the 
 religious character is not owing to the want 
 of original capacity for religion, but is to be 
 traced to the unpropitious circumstances in 
 which childhood is passed, and the want of 
 uniform, earnest, persevering instruction. 
 
 I have made this statement for two rea- 
 sons. First, because I think it points out 
 the immense importance of a religious edu- 
 cation, and is an urgent call upon parents 
 for greater diligence in this duty. No pa- 
 rent will deliberately say, in excuse for his 
 neglect, that his children are incapable of 
 apprehending and performing their duty to 
 God. He will perceive that the same opera- 
 tion of circumstances and of unceasing in- 
 fluences, which has made them devoted to 
 him, would make them devoted to God ; and 
 religion is that state of mind toward God, 
 which a good child exercises toward a parent. 
 It is the same principle and the same affec- 
 tions, fixing themselves on an infinitely higher 
 object. Let parents be aware of this, and 
 they will feel the call and the encouragement 
 to a more systematic and affectionate attention 
 to the religious instruction of their children. 
 
22 OUR POWER TO OBTAIN 
 
 I have made this statement, moreover, be- 
 cause it offers a guide to those who have 
 passed through childhood without permanent 
 religious impressions, and are now desirous 
 of attaining them. It is principally for such 
 that I write. They may be divided into 
 many classes; some more and some less 
 distant from the kingdom of God ; some 
 profligate, some indifferent ; some with much 
 goodness of outward performance, but with 
 no internal principle of faith and piety ; and 
 some without even external conformity to 
 right. But however differing in their past 
 course of life, and in the peculiar habits 
 and dispositions which characterize them, in 
 one thing they now agree, — they are sensible 
 of their errors and sins, and desire to apply 
 themselves to that true and living way, which 
 shall lead them to the favor of God and 
 everlasting life. They feel that there is a 
 great work to be done, a great change to be 
 effected, Qif;her internally or externally, or 
 both, and they are desirous to learn in what 
 manner it shall be accomplished. 
 
 To such persons the statement which I 
 have made above may be useful. Let thera 
 
THAT WHICH WE SEEK. 23 
 
 look back to h, and reflect upon it. God 
 has given them powers for doing the work 
 which he has assigned to them. That work 
 is expressed in one word — the comprehen- 
 sive name Religion. That work they should 
 have begun and perseveringly pursued from 
 their earliest days. But they have done 
 otherwise. They have wandered from duty, 
 and been unfaithful to God. They have 
 gone far from him, like the unwise prodigal^ 
 and wasted the portion he gave them in 
 vicious or unprofitable pursuits. They have 
 cultivated the animal life; they have lived 
 * according to the flesh.' They need to cul- 
 tivate the spiritual life; to live 'according 
 to the spirit.' There is an animal life, and 
 there is a spiritual life. Man is born into 
 the first at the birth of his body ; he is born 
 into the second when he subjects himself to 
 the power of religion, and prefers his ration- 
 al and immortal to his -sensual nature. Dur- 
 ing his earliest days, he is an animal only, 
 pursuing, like other animals, the wants and 
 desires of his body, and consulting his pres- 
 ent gratification and immediate interest. But 
 it is not designed that he shall continue thus. 
 
24 OUR POWER TO OBTAIN 
 
 He is made for something better and higher 
 He has a nobler nature and nobler interests. 
 He must learn to live for these ; and this 
 learning to feel and value his spiritual nature, 
 and to live for eternity; this change from 
 the animal and earthly existence of infancy, 
 to a rational, moral, spiritual existence, — this 
 it is to be born into the spiritual life. This is 
 a renovation of principle and purpose through 
 which every one must pass. Every one must 
 thus turn from his natural devotion to things 
 earthly to a devotion to things heavenly. 
 This change it is the object of the gospel to 
 effect; and we seek no less than this, when 
 we seek the influence of the gospel on our 
 souls. 
 
 Now, the persons of whom I am speaking 
 have not yet acquired this new taste and prin- 
 ciple. It has made with them no part of 
 the process of education. It is yet to be 
 acquired. They are desirous of acquiring 
 it. Let them first be persuaded of its absolute 
 necessity. Until this is felt, nothing can be 
 effectually done. Without it, there will be no 
 such strenuous effort for religious attainment 
 as is necessary to success. Many person? 
 
THAT WHICH WE SEEK. 25 
 
 have at times, some have frequently, a certain 
 conviction upon their minds, that they are 
 not passing their lives as they ought, and 
 they make half a resolution to do differently. 
 They are ill content with their condition ; they 
 long to be free from the reproaches of con- 
 science ; they wish to be assured that their 
 souls are safe. But, although uneasy and dis- 
 satisfied, they take no steps towards improving 
 their condition, because they have no proper 
 persuasion of its absolute necessity. They must 
 be deeply convinced of this. They must strong- 
 ly feel that a state of indifference is a state of 
 danger ; that they are on the brink of ruin, 
 so long as they are alienated from God, and 
 governed by passion, appetite, and inclination, 
 rather than a sense of duty. And such is 
 the power of habit, that they in vain hope to 
 be delivered from its bondage, and to become 
 consistent followers of Christ, unless a strong 
 feeling shall lead them to make a resolute, 
 energetic effort. If they allow themselves to 
 fancy that it will be time enough by and by ; 
 that, after all, the case is not very desperate, 
 but can be remedied at any time ; and that 
 h would be a pity yet to abandon their pleas- 
 3 
 
2b OUR POWER TO OBTAIN 
 
 ant vices; — then there is no hope for them 
 They are cherishing the most dangerous of all 
 states of mind ; a state, which prevents all real 
 desire for improvement, is coatinually weaken- 
 ing their power of change, and absolutely 
 destroys the prospect of amendment. They 
 must begin the remedy by a persuasion of its 
 necessity. They must feel it so strongly, that 
 they cannot rest content without immediately 
 subjecting themselves to the dominion of reli- 
 gion, — as a starving man feels the necessity of 
 immediately applying to the search for food. 
 No man will give himself to the thoughts, 
 studies, devotions, and charities, of a religious 
 life, who does not find them essential to the 
 satisfaction and peace of his mind, that is, 
 who is satisfied without them. Cherish there- 
 fore the conviction of this necessity. Cultivate 
 by every possible means a deep persuasion 
 of the truth, that the service and love of God 
 are the only sufl[icient sources of happiness ; 
 and that only pain and shame can await him 
 who withholds his soul from the light and 
 purity for which it was made. 
 
 Feeling thus the importance of a religious 
 hfe, let them next be persuaded that its attain- 
 
THAT WHICH WE SEEK. 27 
 
 ment is entirely in their power. It is but to 
 use the faculties which God has given them, 
 in the work and with the aid which God 
 has appointed. No one will venture to 
 say that he is incapable of this. A religious 
 life, as we have seen, grt)ws out of the rela- 
 tions in which man stands to God and his fel- 
 low men ; and as he is made accountable for 
 the performance of the duties of these rela- 
 tions, it is impossible that he is not created 
 capable of performing them. It were as rea- 
 sonable to urge that a child cannot love and 
 obey its father and mother, as that a man 
 cannot love and obey God. 
 
 Yet it so happens, that some profess to be 
 deterred from a religious course, by the appre- 
 hension that it is not in their power; it is 
 something which it must be given them to 
 do ; a work which must be wrought in them 
 by a supernatural energy ; they must wait till 
 their time has come. But every apology for 
 irreligion, founded on reasons like this, is evi- 
 dently deceptive. It proceeds upon wrong 
 notions respecting the divine aid imparted to 
 man. That this aid is needed and is given in 
 the Christian life, is a true and comforting 
 
28 OUR POWER TO OBTAIN 
 
 doctrine. But that it is to supersede human 
 exertion, that it is a reason for indolence 
 and religious neglect, is a false and pernicious 
 notion, — countenanced, I will venture to af- 
 firm, by no one whose opinion or example is 
 honored or followed in the Christian church 
 On the contrary, all agree in declaring with 
 the Apostle, that while * God works in us to 
 will and to do,' we are to * work out our own 
 salvation ;' and to do it with * fear and trem- 
 bling,' because, after all, these divine influences 
 will be vain without our own diligence. 
 
 In some persons, this notion takes the form 
 of a real or fancied humility. They fear lest 
 they be found seeking salvation through their 
 own works, and relying on their own merits. 
 3ut what a strange humility this, which leads 
 to a disregard of the divine will, and disobedi- 
 ence to the divine commands ; which virtually 
 says, * I will continue in sin that grace may 
 abound !' Let me ask, too, Who will trust to 
 receive salvation without actual obedience? 
 Where is it promised to those who will do 
 nothing in the way of self-government and 
 active virtue ? Where is it offered to any, but 
 those who seek it by * bringing forth fruits 
 
THAT WHICH WE SEEK. 29 
 
 meet for repentance,' and by * patient continu- 
 ance in well-doing V 
 
 And let none fear lest this make void the 
 grace of God. For how is it that grace leads 
 to salvation ? Is it by arbitrarily fitting the 
 soul for it, and ushering it into heaven with- 
 out its own cooperation ? Or is it not rather 
 by opening a free highway to the kingdom of 
 life, through which all may walk and be saved? 
 This is what the Saviour has done; he has 
 made the path of life accessible and plain, has 
 thrown open the gate of heaven, has taught 
 men how to enter in and reach their bliss. 
 Whoever pursues this path, and enters 
 * through the gate into the city,' is saved by 
 grace. For though he has used his own 
 powers to travel on this highway, yet he did 
 not establish that highway ; nor could he have 
 traversed it without guidance and aid; nor 
 could he have opened for himself the door of 
 entrance. Heaven is still a free gift, inasmuch 
 as it is granted by infinite benignity to those 
 who did not, do not, and cannot deserve it. 
 Yet there are certain conditions to be perform- 
 ed. And to refuse the performance of those 
 conditions, on the plea that you thus derogate 
 3* 
 
30 OUR POWER TO OBTAIN 
 
 from the mercy of God, and do something to 
 purchase or merit happiness, is a madness 
 which ought to be strenuously opposed, or it 
 will leave you to perish in your sins. 
 
 These two things, then, may be regarded as 
 ^axioms of the religious life ; first, that a 
 man's own labors are essential to his salvation ; 
 second, that his utmost virtue does nothing 
 toward purchasing or meriting salvation. 
 When he has done all his duty, he is still, as 
 the Saviour declares, but an * unprofitable ser- 
 vant.' He has been more than recompensed 
 by the blessings of this present life. That 
 the happiness of an eternal state may be 
 attained, in addition to these, is a provision of 
 pure grace ; and it is mere insanity to neglect 
 the duties of religion through any fear lest 
 you should seem to be seeking heaven on the 
 ground of your own desert. Virtue would be 
 your duty, though you were to perish forever 
 at the grave ; and that God has opened to his 
 children the prospect of a future inheritance 
 infinitely disproportioned to their merit, is only 
 a further reason for making virtue your first 
 and chief pursuit. 
 
 It is true there is great infirmity in human 
 
THAT WHICH WE SEEK. 31 
 
 nature, and you will find yourself perplexed 
 and harassed by temptations from without 
 and within. Passion, appetite, pleasure, and 
 care, solicit and urge you, and render it not 
 easy to keep yourself unspotted from the 
 world. But what then? Does this excuse 
 the want of exertion? Is this a good reason 
 for sitting idly with folded arms, and saying, 
 It is all vain ; I am wretchedly weak ; I can- 
 not undertake this work, till God gives me 
 strength ? Believe me, there is no humility 
 in this. Think of yourself and of your de- 
 serts as humbly as you please ; but to think so 
 meanly of the powers God has given you, as 
 to deem them insufficient for the work he has 
 assigned you, is less humility than ingratitude 
 and want of faith. Nothing is truer than 
 this, — that your work is proportioned to your 
 powers, and your trials to your strength. * No 
 temptation hath taken you but such as is com- 
 mon to man; but God is faithful, who will 
 not suffer you to be tempted above that ye 
 are able; but will, with the temptation, also 
 make a way to escape, that ye may be able to 
 bear it.* Here is the manifestation of peculiar 
 grace : when a sincere and humble spirit, in 
 
32 OUR POWER TO OBTAIN 
 
 its earnest search for the true way, encounter? 
 obstacles, hardships, and opposition, at this 
 moment it is, that aid from on high is inter- 
 posed. The promise to Paul is fulfilled, * My 
 strength is made perfect in weakness.' * The 
 spirit helpeth our infirmities.' Let it be, 
 then, that human nature is weak ; no work is 
 appointed greater than its power, and it * can 
 do all things through Christ who ^trength- 
 eneth.* 
 
 Be thoroughly persuaded, therefore, that the 
 work before you is wholly within your power. 
 Nothing has a more palsying effect on one's 
 exertions in any enterprise, than the doubt 
 whether he be equal to it. Something like 
 confidence is necessary to enable him to pur- 
 sue it vigorously and perseveringly. It is as 
 necessary in action, as the Apostle represents 
 it to be in prayer. * He that wavereth or 
 doubteth is like a wave of the sea, driven by 
 the wind and tossed.* But when he has con- 
 fidence, as the Christian may have, that his 
 strength is equal to his task, that he cannot fail 
 if he resolutely go forward, and that all hinder- 
 ances must disappear before a steady and in- 
 dustrious zeal, which leans upon God, and is 
 
THAT WHICH WE SEEK. 33 
 
 Strong in the power of the Lord, — then he 
 presses on with alacrity, encounters trials with- 
 out alarm, and is * steadfast, immovable, al- 
 ways abounding in the work of the Lord ; 
 knowing that his labor is not in vain in the 
 Lord ;' for that nothing but his own fault can 
 bar him out of heaven, or cause him to fail of 
 eternal life. 
 
 And all this is perfectly consistent with the 
 deepest humility, and the profoundest sense of 
 dependence on God. 
 
Ji4 THE STATE OF MIND 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 TUB STATE OF MIND IN WHICH THE INQUIRER 
 SHOULD SUSTAIN HIMSELF. 
 
 All this, I say, is perfectly consistent with 
 the deepest humility and most unassuming de- 
 pendence upon God. If it were not, it would 
 be false and wrong ; for a humble and depen- 
 dent disposition is a prime requisite in the 
 Christian ; a grace to be especially cultivated 
 at the beginning of the religious course. It is 
 concerning this state of mind that we are now 
 to speak. 
 
 Deep religious impressions are always ac- 
 companied by a sense of personal un worthi- 
 ness, and not unfrequently commence with 
 it. It is man's acquaintance with himself, 
 which leads him most earnestly to seek the ac- 
 quaintance of God, and to perceive the need 
 of his favor. The sense of sin, the feeling 
 that his life has not been right, that his heart 
 is not pure, that his thoughts, dispositions, ap- 
 petites, passions, have not been duly regulated, 
 
NECESSARY inu THE INQUIRER. 35 
 
 ihat he has lived according to his own will, and 
 not that of God, that, if taken from his worldly 
 possessions, he has no other object of desire 
 and affection to which his heart could cling, 
 if called to judgment for the use of his powers 
 and privileges, he must be speechless and 
 hopeless ; all this rises solemnly to his mind, 
 and sinks him low under a sense of ill desert 
 and shame. He sees that he might have been, 
 ought to have been, better; that he might 
 have been, ought to have been, obedient to 
 God, and a follower of all that is good. He 
 cannot excuse himself to himself. Every effort 
 to palliate his guilt, only shows him its aggrava- 
 tion ; and he cries out, with the penitent prodi- 
 gal, * Father, I have sinned against heaven, and 
 in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be call- 
 ed thy son.' He has offended against knowl- 
 edge and opportunity, and in spite of instruction 
 and warning. He looks back to the early and 
 innocent days, when, if his Saviour had been 
 on earth, he might have taken him to his arms, 
 and said, * Of such is the kingdom of God.' 
 But, alas ! how has he been changed ! He has 
 parted with that innocence, he has strayed 
 from the kingdom of heaven, he has defiled 
 
36 THE bTATE OF MIND 
 
 and lost the image of his Maker. While he 
 dwells on this thought of what he was, and 
 what he might have become, and contrasts it 
 with what he is, he is filled with remorse. He 
 exaggerates to himself all his failings, paints, 
 m blacker colors than even the truth, all his 
 iniquities, counts himself the chief of sinners, 
 and is almost ready to despair of mercy. 
 
 When the mind is strongly agitated in this 
 way, it is surprising how the characters of very 
 different men become, as it were, equalized. 
 Of many individuals, differing in the most 
 various ways as regards the number and nature, 
 the magnitude and circumstances of their of- 
 fences, and most widely separated in the ac- 
 tual scale of demerit, each, at such a season, 
 regards himself as the most guilty of men. 
 Sometimes the high-wrought expressions, in 
 which the victim of remorse vents the excru- 
 ciating anguish of his mind, are accounted af- 
 fectation and hypocrisy. But there can be no 
 good reason to doubt that they are entirely sin- 
 cere. The man honestly describes himself as 
 he seems to himself at the time. He is, in his 
 own eyes, the wretch he draws. And this is 
 very easily explained. He sees at one view 
 
NECESSARY FOR THE INQUIRER. 37 
 
 all his past sins, open and secret, his thought- 
 lessness, ingratitude, negligence, and omis- 
 sions, his depraved inclinations, evil desires, 
 and cherished lusts, which no one else knows, 
 and which no one else could compare, as he 
 can, with his privileges and obligations. All 
 these he sets by the side, not of the hidden and 
 private life of others, but of their decent public 
 demeanor. He compares them, too, not with 
 the standard of worldly, outward morality, but 
 with the strict, searching, holy requisitions of 
 the law of God. And in such a comparison, 
 at such a moment, he cannot but regard him- 
 self as most unworthy and depraved. 
 
 And we need not be too anxious at once to 
 correct this feeling. The abasement is well ; 
 for no one can feel guilt too strongly, or ab- 
 hor sin too deeply. The time will come, 
 when he will learn to follow the direction of 
 the Apostle, and 'think of himself soberly, 
 as he ought to think.' But at this first fair 
 inspection of the deformities of his character, 
 it is not to be expected that he should make 
 his estimate with perfect sobriety. Only let 
 every thing be done to guide, and soothe, and 
 encourage him, and nothing to exasperate 
 4 
 
38 THE STATE OF MIND 
 
 his self-condemnation, or drive him to insanity 
 or despair. 
 
 But such a state of mind as I have describ- 
 ed, though not uncommon, and by many 
 cherished as the most desirable and suitable 
 at the commencement of the religious life 
 is by no means universal at that period, and 
 cannot be regarded as essential. The expe- 
 rience of different individuals in this respect 
 greatly varies, and is much affected by temper 
 and disposition, as well as by other circum- 
 stances. Many excellent Christians have 
 never been subjected to those violent and 
 torturing emotions, w^hich have shaken ano 
 convulsed others. Their course has been 
 placid and serene, though solemn and humble. 
 They have felt their sin, and have mourned 
 beneath it, and in deep humiliation have 
 sought its forgiveness ; but without any thing 
 of terrified emotion or gloomy despondency. 
 They have been gently won to truth by the 
 mild invitations of parental love, without 
 needing the fearful denunciations of punish- 
 ment and wrath to awaken them. This 
 difference among individuals is owing partly, 
 as I said, to constitutional difference of tem- 
 
NECESSARY FOR THE INQUIRER. 39 
 
 perament, which renders it impossible that 
 the same representations should affect all 
 alike ; and partly to the different modes in 
 which religion is presented to different minds ; 
 having first appeared to some in its harsher 
 features, as to the Jews on Sinai, and to others 
 in the milder form of a Saviour's compassion. 
 But however this may be, and however the 
 humiliation of one may wear a different 
 complexion from that of another, it is a state 
 of mind sincere and heartfelt in all, to be 
 studiously cherished, and to be made per- 
 manent in the character. 
 
 In the beginning of the Christian life, this 
 feeling assumes the form of anxiety, as it 
 afterward leads to watchfulness. This word 
 may, perhaps as well as any, describe the 
 state of those for whom I am writing. They 
 are anxious about themselves, about their 
 characters, their condition, their prospects. 
 They are anxious to know what they shall 
 do to be saved, and to gain satisfactory assu- 
 rance that they shall be pardoned and accepted 
 of God. This is a most reasonable solicitude. 
 What can be more reasonable than such a 
 solicitude for the greatest and most lasting 
 
40 THE STATE OP MIND 
 
 good of man ? What more becoming a 
 rational creature, whose eternal welfare is 
 dependent on his own choice between good 
 and evil, than this desire to know and pursue 
 the right ? this earnest thoughtfulness respect- 
 ing his condition? and this inquiry for the 
 true end of his being ? If a person, hitherto 
 thoughtless, is in this state of mind, he is to 
 be congratulated upon it. We are to be 
 thankful to God in his behalf, that another 
 immortal soul is awake to its responsibility, 
 and seeking real happiness. We would urge 
 him to cherish the feelings which possess him ; 
 not with melancholy despondency ; not with 
 superstitious gloom ; not with unmanly and 
 unmeaning debasement ; but with thoughtful, 
 self-distrusting concern, with deliberate study 
 for the path of duty, and a resolute purpose 
 not to swerve from it. 
 
 Remember that much depends, I might 
 say, every thing depends, on the use you 
 make of this your present disposition. Be 
 faithful to it, obey its promptings, let it form 
 :n you the habit of devout reflection and 
 religious action, and all must be well. The 
 issue will be the Christian character, and the 
 
NECESSARY FOR THE INQUIRER. 41 
 
 soul's salvation. But reilise to cherish this 
 disposition, drive it from you, smother and 
 silence it, and you will probably do yourself 
 an everlasting injury. It is like putting 
 out a fire which has just been lighted, and 
 which may with difficulty be kindled again. 
 It is trifling with the sensibility of conscience, 
 it is bringing hardness upon your heart ; and 
 there is less prospect that you will afterward 
 arrive at an habitual and controlling regard 
 for your religious interests. This it is to 
 * quench the spirit.' 
 
 Be sensible, therefore, that this is a critical 
 moment in the history of your character, that 
 it is in many respects the decisive point at 
 which your destiny is to be determined. For 
 now it is, in all probability, that the bias of 
 your mind is to be determined for good or 
 evil. Be sensible, then, how necessary it is 
 that you keep alive, and cultivate by all possi- 
 ble means, this tenderness of heart. Avoid 
 every pursuit, engagement, and company, 
 which you find to be inconsistent with it, or 
 unfavorable to it, or tending to destroy it. 
 Scenes at other times innocent, should now 
 be shunned, if they operate to turn the current 
 4 *^ E 
 
42 THE STATE OF MIND 
 
 of your affections ; for you are engaging in a 
 great work, the giving your heart a permanent 
 bias toward God, and it ought not to be 
 interrupted. While this is doing, you can 
 well afford to withdraw from many scenes you 
 might otherwise frequent, and indeed you can 
 ill afford the risk of exposing yourself to their 
 influence. 
 
 It may be well to observe another caution. 
 Say nothing of your thoughts and feelings 
 to any, but one or two confidential friends. 
 Many a religious character has been spoiled 
 in the forming, by too much talk with too 
 many persons. The best religious character 
 is formed in retirement, by much silent 
 reflection, and private reading and prayer. 
 What the soul needs above all things, is to 
 commune with itself and with God ; then it 
 is established, strengthened, settled. But if 
 a man go out from his closet, and seek for 
 instruction and guidance by talking with all 
 who will talk with him, he fritters away his 
 feelings ; his frame becomes less deeply and 
 essentially spiritual ; words take the place 
 of sentiment; and he is very likely to be* 
 come a talkative, fluent, superficial religion- 
 
NECESSARY FOR THE INQUIRER. 43 
 
 ist, with much show of sound doctrine, and 
 a goodly readiness of sound speech, but 
 without substantial principle. Shun, there- 
 fore, rather than seek, much communication 
 with many persons. But some counsel and 
 encouragement you may need. Apply, there- 
 fore, to your minister. He is your legitimate 
 and true counsellor, and he will be glad, in 
 friendly and confidential intercourse, to lead 
 you on. You may have also some pious 
 friend, to whom, possibly, you may unbosom 
 yourself more freely than you have courage to 
 do to your minister; and he may, in some 
 particulars, give you aid, which the situation 
 of the pastor may put it out of his power to 
 afford. In this manner, feel your way along 
 quietly, silently, steadily. Let the growth 
 within you be like that of the grain of wheat, 
 which germinates in secret, and springs up 
 without observation, and attracts little notice 
 of men, till it shows *the ear and the full 
 corn in the ear.' Be anxious to establish 
 yourself firmly in the power of godliness, 
 before you exhibit its form. 
 
 In connexion with this, it may be well to 
 add a caution on a kindred point. Do not 
 
44 THE STATE OF MIND 
 
 spend too much time in public meetings. 
 You will, of course, be desirous to hear the 
 preaching of the gospel. You feel as if you 
 could not hear it too often or too much. You 
 wonder that preaching should never before 
 have seemed so interesting. You listen with 
 unstopped ears; and prayers, hymns, and 
 sermons, fall upon your spirit as if you had 
 been gifted with a new sense. It is well that 
 it is so. By all means cherish this ardent 
 interest in public worship. But do not 
 indulge it to excess. Let your moderation 
 be seen in giving to this its proper place and 
 importance in your time and regard. It is 
 not the only religious enjoyment or means of 
 improvement in your power; and it may 
 possibly be mere self-indulgence which carries 
 one from meeting to meeting. Remember 
 that no duty towards others is to be neglected 
 in the search for personal improvement ; this 
 would be sin. And it is at times a higher 
 duty to attend to your family, to be with your 
 friends, to instruct your children, to consult 
 the feelings and yield to the prejudices of a 
 husband or wife, a parent, brother or sister, 
 than it is to pursue your own single advantage, 
 
NECESSARY FOR THE INQUIRER. 45 
 
 it may be your own gratification, by going oiu 
 to social worship. And if it be your object 
 to please God or discipline your own spirit, 
 you will better effect that object by this 
 exercise of self-denial, than by doing what 
 would give uneasiness to others, and perhaps 
 even alienate them from you, and render them 
 hostile to religion itself The advice of the 
 Apostle to wives is in force on this point, and 
 is equally applicable to the other social 
 relations : * Ye wives, be in subjection to your 
 own husbands ; that if any obey not the word, 
 they may, without the word, be won by the 
 conversation of the wives ; while they behold 
 your chaste conversation coupled with fear.* 
 
 Be warned, therefore, against this error. 
 And what are you to lose by the course which 
 I recommend? Believe me, however much 
 may be gained by the sympathy and excite- 
 ment of a public assembly, quite as much is 
 gained by the sacrifice of your inclinations 
 to duty and to the feelings of others, and by 
 the silent^ unmtnessed exercises of retitemeiit,^ 
 which no one can forbid you. Look not at 
 the present moment, but at the end. Your 
 desire is to form a genuine, solid, thorough, 
 
46 THE STATE OF MIND, &C. 
 
 permanent character of devotion. Well ; try 
 to form it wholly in the excitement, and be- 
 neath the external influence, of public meet- 
 ings, and it will be such a character as can 
 exist only in such scenes. Your piety will 
 always need the presence and voice of men 
 to keep it alive, and, unsustained by them, 
 will sink away and die. This, at least, is the 
 danger to be apprehended ; and experience 
 declares that it is no slight one. But form 
 your character in private, build it up by the 
 action of your own mind, under the direction 
 of the Bible, and by intercourse with the 
 Father of spirits,-^and then it will always be 
 independent of other men and of outward 
 circumstances. It will be self-sustained on a 
 foundation which man and earth cannot shake, 
 alike powerful in the solitude and in the crowd, 
 and immovable in steadfastness, though all 
 other men prove false, and faith have fled all 
 other bosoms. It is such a piety that belongs 
 to the Christian ; it is such that you are to 
 seek ; and you may well be apprehensive of 
 failure, if you neglect this salutary caution. 
 
MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 47 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 The means to be used in order to render 
 permanent your religious impressions, and 
 promote the growth of your character, are now 
 to be considered. They may be arranged un- 
 der the following heads : — Reading, Medita- 
 tion, Prayer, Hearing the word preached, and 
 the Lord's Supper. 
 
 I. Reading. 
 
 I begin with the more private means ; and I 
 speak of reading first, because it is in the peru- 
 sal of the Scriptures that the beginning of 
 religious knowledge is to be found. It is they 
 which testify of Christ, and have the words of 
 eternal life. It is they which make wise unto 
 salvation. And it is through a devout ac- 
 quaintance with them, that the mind and 
 heart grow in the knowledge and love of God, 
 and that the dispositions are formed which 
 prepare for heaven. Every one may read the 
 
48 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 Bible, and, such is its plainness and simplicity 
 in all matters pertaining to life and godliness, 
 that if he be able to read nothing else, he may 
 yet learn all that is essential to duty and ac- 
 ceptance. Hence it has happened, that i^any, 
 to whom circumstances have interdicted idl 
 general acquaintance with books, have gather- 
 ed, from their solitary study of the Bible alone, 
 a wisdom which has expanded and elevated 
 their minds, and a peace which has raised 
 them above the darkness and trials of an un- 
 happy worldly lot. 
 
 There are those whose condition in life is 
 such, that they have very little time or means 
 to devote to books, and it were vain to recom- 
 mend to them that they should seek instruc- 
 tion beyond the sacred pages, and the simplest 
 elementary works of devotion. While, there- 
 fore, it is the undoubted duty of every one to 
 make the utmost possible progress in religious 
 knowledge, no one is to be condemned for that 
 omission of study and ignorance of books 
 which are rendered unavoidable by circum- 
 stances. We must make a distinction, it has 
 been truly said, between that which is the 
 duty of all, and may be done by all, that is, a 
 
READING. 49 
 
 careful and devout perusal of the Scriptures, 
 and that which is the duty, because within the 
 abiJity, only of a more limited number,— the 
 study of other sources of knowledge and vir- 
 tue. These every one must pursue in propor- 
 tion to his leisure and means. 
 
 The class of those who have the leisure and 
 means is large and numerous; it is to be 
 wished that they were more alive to their obli- 
 gation tp improve themselves accordingly. I 
 know not how it happens, that serious and 
 devout persons are so content to be ignorant 
 on those great topics which they truly feel to 
 transcend all others in importance. It certain- 
 ly deserves their consideration, whether this 
 indifference be either creditable or right. 
 Capacity and opportunity form the measure 
 of duty ; and if they have received the power 
 and means of cultivating their minds and add- 
 ing to their treasures of truth and thought, 
 they should regard it as an intimation that this 
 is required of them. They should not esteem 
 it enough to be sincere and conscientious ; 
 i\}ey should desire to be well-informed ; well- 
 informed respecting the interpretation of the 
 more difficult and curious portions of holy writ. 
 5 
 
50 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 respecting the history and transmission of the 
 records of their faith, the fortunes of the 
 church in successive ages, the effects of their 
 religion and of other religions on the world, 
 the past and present state of religious , opin- 
 ions, the past and present operations of 
 Christian benevolence, the means of doing 
 good, and the lives, labors, and speculations of 
 the eminent professors of their faith. Now, all 
 ^this is to be known only through books; and 
 in order to attain it, a judicious selection of 
 books, and an appropriation of certain seasons 
 for reading, are primarily requisite. The bare 
 importance and interest of these subjects ought 
 to be a sufficient inducement to the adoption 
 of this course. 
 
 There are many other considerations which 
 render it worthy of attention. The preaching 
 of divine truth becomes far more profitable to 
 those who have prepared themselves for it by 
 the information thus acquired. Words are 
 used in the pulpit, modes of speech occur, al- 
 lusions are made, and facts and reasonings re- 
 ferred to, which presuppose an acquaintance 
 with certain subjects, and which are entirely 
 lost to those who never read. The better a 
 
READING. 51 
 
 hearer is furnished with preliminary knowl- 
 edge, the greater pleasure will he derive from 
 the pulpit ; because the better will he under- 
 stand and appreciate the sentiments expressed. 
 At present, such is the uninformed character 
 of a large portion of ordinary congregations, 
 that a minister is compelled to pass by many 
 modes of illustration, and many representa- 
 tions of truth and duty, because they would 
 be to a great majority unintelligible, and there- 
 fore unprofitable. Instead of going on to per- 
 fection in the proclamation of higher and 
 wider views, he is compelled, as the Apostle 
 complained in a similar case, to confine him- 
 self * to the first principles of the oracles of 
 God.' Some teachers, unwilling or unable 
 thus to adapt themselves to the actual stature 
 of their hearers' minds, pursue their own 
 modes of thought and expression, without re- 
 gard to their audience ; and, while they 
 gratify a few reading and thinking men, leave 
 the mass of the people uninstructed and unaf- 
 fected. Herein is a sad error. But if the 
 preacher must adapt himself to the hearers, the 
 hearers ought to prepare themselves for the 
 preaching. This is to be done by greater 
 
52 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 familiarity with religious books. They would 
 then be ready for higher and more extensive 
 themes, and for a wider scope of illustration, 
 while the preacher would cease to feel him- 
 self fettered. At present, warmed and filled, 
 as his mind must often be, by large contempla- 
 tion and exalted study, he sometimes uncon- 
 sciously speaks that which is an unknown 
 tongue to the unlettered man, though delight- 
 ful and wholesome to him whose habits of 
 reading have prepared him to receive it. 
 
 Further still. It might do for mere men of 
 the world, who professedly seek only worldly 
 good, and hold of little worth the goods of the 
 mind, — it might, do for them to neglect books 
 and thinking, and spend all their precious 
 leisure in idle recreation*. They are living 
 for the body. But it is the distinction of the 
 Christian, that he lives for the soul, for his in- 
 tellectual and moral nature, for that part of 
 him which is noblest now, and v^hich alone 
 shall live for ever. He has passed out of 
 the animal, into the spiritual, life. It is not for 
 him to omit or neglect any suitable means of 
 intellectual or moral cultivation. He is guilty 
 of criminal inconsistency, he is a traitor to his 
 
READING. 53 
 
 own mind, if he refuse to nourish it, syste- 
 matically, with knowledge and truth. To 
 keep it inactive and ignorant, is to keep it de- 
 graded. Jesus lived and died for it, that it 
 might attain the truth, and that the truth 
 might make it free. But what is the freedom 
 of the mind bound in the fetters of ignorance 1 
 Freedom and elevation can come to it only 
 through knowledge, and one chief fountain of 
 knowledge is books. These inform and excite 
 it, and furnish food for thought. Thought is 
 exercise ; it is to the mind what motion is to 
 the body. Without it, there is neither health 
 nor strength. And when God has graciously 
 ordefed~tTiat your lot should be cast amid the 
 abundance of books, where you need only put 
 forth your hand and be supplied ; when he 
 thus makes easy to you that intellectual and 
 moral attainment which is the souPs dignity 
 and happiness ; I see not how you can answer 
 it to your conscience, if you do not sacredly 
 devote to this object a certain portion of your 
 leisure. 
 
 In regard to the quantity of time to be thus 
 employed, no uniform rule can be given. 
 Men vary so much in occupation, opportunity, 
 5* 
 
54 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 and leisure, that, while one may easily com- 
 mand hours, another can with difficulty secure 
 minutes. On this point every one must be 
 left to the decision of his own conscience 
 Inquire of that, impartially and seriously, and 
 then determine how large a portion of time 
 you can daily give to this great object. I be- 
 lieve it may be laid down as certain, that most 
 persons may afford to it a great deal more than 
 they imagine. Some make no effort to do any 
 thing, because they can effect so little that 
 they account it not worth the effort. But they 
 should remember, that duty does not consist in 
 doing great things, but in doing what we can ; 
 and that, if they would redeem from the hurry 
 of business and the relaxation of sleep one 
 quarter of an hour a day, it would be a more 
 praiseworthy offering than the many hours 
 which are given by others. Even five minutes 
 a day would be worth something, would be in- 
 valuable to one who was earnestly bent on 
 using it. It would amount in a year to about 
 thirty hours ; and who will say that it is not 
 better to improve the mind for thirty hours 
 than not at all? But I am persuaded that 
 there is scarcely any one, however engrossed 
 
READING. 55 
 
 in necessary cares, who may not find much 
 more time than this — who may not find an 
 hour a day. By greater care of the minutes 
 which he wastes, by abridging a little firom his 
 meals, a little fi*om his pleasares, and a little 
 from his sleep, it would be easily accomplish- 
 ed. If one be in earnest, as he should be, if 
 he seek for wisdom as for gold, and for under- 
 standing as for hid treasure, it will be no impos- 
 sible thing to find the requisite time. Few men 
 but could readily gain an hour a day, if they 
 were to gain by it a dollar a day. Indeed, it is 
 often seen, in actual life, that a person, to whom 
 religion has become an object of deep concern, 
 contrives to devote to his books more time 
 than this, though before he would have 
 thought it impossible. Nothing is wanting 
 but the * willing mind.' If one feel the 
 necessity, every thing else will give way. 
 Rather than remain ignorant and without prog- 
 ress in the truth, he will cheerfully watch an 
 hour later at night, and rise an hour earlier in 
 the morning. The gain to the mind will 
 more than balance the inconvenience to the 
 body. 
 
 You may regard it, then, as some proof of 
 
56 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 the sincerity and earnestness of your desire 
 for improvement, if you find -yourself able to 
 appropriate a certain portion of time to prof- 
 itable reading. It is important that you select 
 for this purpose those hours which shall be 
 least liable to interruption, and that you allow 
 nothing to infringe upon them. Keep this as 
 holy time. Be punctual and faithful to it, as 
 the banker to his hours of business. 
 
 There are seasons in every one's vocation, 
 at which his business is less pressing than at 
 others ; and there are also seasons of leisure, 
 which he feels at liberty to take for recreation 
 and amusement. As you will have lost all 
 taste for frivolous amusement and unprofitable 
 pleasures, you will be able to devote all such 
 seasons to the improvement of your mind ; 
 and, instead of the theatre and the ball-room, 
 from which you would have returned fatigued 
 in body and distracted in mind, and to some 
 extent unfitted for duty, you will enjoy the 
 converse of the great minds which have blessed 
 the world, and, after filling your soul with their 
 thoughts, will go back to your ordinary duty 
 with a spirit refreshed and invigorated, and a 
 body unwearied. During the season of long 
 
READING. 57 
 
 evenings, especially, when so many are hurry- 
 ing from diversion to diversion, as if this long 
 leisure were provided them only that they may 
 contrive how ingeniously they can throw it 
 a^way,— you will perceive that you have a most 
 favorable opportunity for pursuing extensive re- 
 searches, and making large acquisitions of 
 knowledge. Evening after evening, in your 
 own quiet retirement, you will sit down to this 
 instructive application. By this diligence what 
 progress may you make ! what volumes may 
 you master 1 to what extent may you penetrate 
 the secrets of science, acquire a knowledge 
 of history and of letters, and become enriched 
 with those great and various treasures of in- 
 tellect, which are subservient to the growth of 
 the mind and the glory of God 1 ' You will 
 thus be using time for the purpose for which 
 it was given, — the ripening and perfecting of 
 your immortal mind ; and, at all intervals of 
 release from duty to others, will make it your 
 happiness to be thus performing a great duty 
 to yourself 
 
 In your selection of books, the Bible will, 
 of course, hold the first place. This is to be 
 read daily, and to be your favorite book. Re- 
 
 F 
 
58 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 member, however, that it may be perused in 
 such a manner, that it were better never to have 
 opened it. If studied inattentively, for form's 
 sake, or only for the purpose of gathering 
 arguments to support your opinions, it is read 
 irreligiously, and therefore unprofitably. You 
 must habitually regard it as uttering instruc- 
 tions with a voice of authority, of which you 
 are earnestly to seek the true meaning, and 
 then submissively to obey them. You must 
 never forget that your hopes of right instruc- 
 tion are suspended on the simplicity and fidel- 
 ity with which you receive those holy words ; 
 and as they were written expressly to make 
 you wise unto salvation, no inferior purpose 
 must distract your attention from this. 
 
 You will therefore always have in view two 
 objects — to understand the book, and to apply 
 it to your own heart and character. 
 
 The study of the Bible, for the purpose of 
 understanding it, is an arduous labor. Dr. 
 Johnson said of the New Testament, " It is 
 the most difficult book in the world, for which 
 the labor of a life is required." No book re- 
 quires greater and more various aid. Its 
 thorough interpretation is a science by its'^lf 
 
READING. 59 
 
 and you must ask of those, in whose judgment 
 you confide, to pomt out the requisite helps for 
 this interesting investigation ; to enable you to 
 reach the pure text, and arrive at the meaning 
 of every passage as it lay in the mind of the 
 virriter. Recollect that a passage standing by 
 itself may bear a very good meaning, which yet 
 was not the meaning designed ; and make it a 
 sacred rule, not to receive or quote it in any 
 other sense than that which belongs to it in its 
 original place. The neglect of this rule has 
 occasioned much misinterpretation and misap- 
 plication of scripture ; and some passages 
 have come to be familiarly understood and 
 cited in senses altogether foreign from their 
 proper import. This is a perversion ; and it is 
 an immense evil to have wrong ideas thus 
 fastened upon the language of the sacred 
 writers. 
 
 And be not afraid of examining the text 
 scrupulously, and employing the utmost ener- 
 gy of your mind in discovering and^ determin- 
 ing its true sense. It is a duty to do this. 
 You can decide between opposing and possi- 
 ble interpretations only by applying your own 
 mind to judge between them ; and the more 
 
60 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 keenly, impartially, and fearlessly you proceed^ 
 the greater the probability that your decision 
 will be correct. On this point some persons 
 greatly err. They seize on the first meaning 
 which presents itself to their minds, or has 
 been presented by another, and resolutely 
 abide by it ; they refuse to investigate further, 
 lest they should be guilty of irreverently trying 
 the divine word by their own fallible reason. 
 Indulge no such weakness as this. Never, in- 
 deed, be guilty for a moment of the insane folly - 
 and sin of disputing the authority of revela- 
 tion, or setting up your reason as a superior 
 light and safer guide. But in deciding upon 
 the meaning of scripture, you cannot use your 
 intellectual powers too much or too acutely. 
 Use them constantly, coolly, impartially, with 
 the best aid you can obtain from human 
 authors, and then you may rest satisfied that 
 you have done your duty, — ^have done all 
 which you could do toward learning the truth ; 
 and if you have accompanied it with prayer 
 for a blessing from the Source of truth and 
 wisdom, you cannot have failed, in any 
 essential point, to ascertain the will of 
 God. 
 
READING. 61 
 
 But,_there is another object, — ^the applica- 
 tion of scripture to the forming' of the heart 
 and character. This is a higher object than 
 the other, and may be effected in cases where 
 very little of rigid scrutiny can be made into 
 the dark places of the divine word. Blessed 
 be God, it is not necessary, in order to salva- 
 tion, that one should comprehend all the 
 things hard to be understood, or be able to fol- 
 low out the train of reasoning in every Epistle, 
 and restore the text in every corruption. Do 
 all this as much as you can. But when you 
 read, as it were for your life ; when you take 
 the Bible to your closet, to be the help and 
 the solitary witness of your prayers; when 
 you take it up as a lamp which you are to 
 hold to your heart, for the purpose of search- 
 ing into its true state, that you may purify 
 and perfect it ; — then put from your mind all 
 thoughts of differing interpretations and vari- 
 ous readings, and the perplexities of criticism 
 and translation. You have only to do with 
 ^yhat is spiritual and practical. You are no 
 more a scholar, seeking for intellectual 
 guidance, but a sinful and accountable crea- 
 ture, asking for help in duty, and deliverance 
 6 
 
62 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 from an evil world and an evil heart. Read, 
 therefore, as if on your knees. M^ke your 
 heart feel and respond to every sentiment. 
 Apply to yourself with rigor every precept 
 and warning ; and according to the character 
 of the passage, let your mind glow with fervor, 
 and be uplifted in holy adoration and devout 
 gratitude, or be thrilled and humbled by the 
 representations of infinite purity and justice, 
 or melted and borne away by the tones of 
 tender love and long-suffering grace. Suffer 
 yourself to read nothing coldly, when you 
 read for spiritual improvement. You might 
 as lawfully pray coldly. Therefore let your 
 reading be like your prayers, — done with all 
 your heart. And be sensible that it is better 
 to go over one short passage many times, till 
 you fully grasp its sentiment, and grow warm 
 with it, than to run over hastily and unfeel- 
 ingly many chapters. 
 
 You are not to suppose, from what has been 
 said, that you are altogether to separate these 
 two modes of reading the Scriptures. On the 
 contrary, it will greatly aid you in unravelling 
 their true meaning, to carry to their interpre- 
 tation a devout mind, wakeful to the impres- 
 
READING. 63 
 
 sion of their moral beauty, and in sympathy 
 with their divine origin ; since nothing is truer 
 than this, — that a study is rendered easy by 
 the interest of the affections in it, and that 
 difficulties disappear before the excitement of 
 feeling. And, on the other hand, when you 
 are reading expressly for improvement and de- 
 votion, you will recur, without effort, and con- 
 sequently without interruption, to the results 
 of your cooler inquiry, and spontaneously 
 make use of the interpretations which your 
 critical scrutiny has proved to be just. 
 
 The cautions thus briefly sketched are im- 
 portant for two reasons ; one, that there is a 
 tendency in him who has become interested in 
 the critical examination -of the sacred writings, 
 to continue to read them critically and with a 
 principal regard to their elucidation, when he 
 ought to be imbibing their spirit; and the other, 
 that the perception of this tendency has been 
 an apology to many for not engaging in such 
 inquiries at all. They esteem it better to go on 
 with their crude, unconnected, and undigested 
 knowledge, which in many cases is only igno- 
 rance (for where they have not inquired, it is 
 impossible they should know), than to check the 
 
64 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. * 
 
 fervor of their religious feelings, as they fancy 
 must inevitably be done, by accurate study. 
 But this is a mekncholy error. It reminds 
 one of the old pretence that ignorance is the 
 mother of devotion. How can it be rationally 
 supposed, that a careful inquiry concerning the 
 history, the text, and the signification of the 
 Bible, should necessarily alienate the mind 
 from the true spirit of the Bible ! I say 
 necessarily, because the tendency alluded to 
 undoubtedly exists; and, however it may be 
 accounted for, it evidently needs to be cau- 
 tiously guarded against. This may be done. 
 Do it, then, as you value the warmth and fervor 
 of your soul. Do it, always and persever- 
 fingly, by daily reading in that frame of! spirit* 
 ual_self-application which I have recommend- 
 ed. Thus you will avoid the danger ; and 
 while you arrive at enlarged views of the na- 
 ture, contents, history and purposes of these 
 sacred records, you will retain and increase 
 the susceptibility of your heart to all their 
 representations of duty and heaven. 
 
 In regard to the choice of other books, it 
 would take up too much room to enter into all 
 the many considerations which might be 
 
READING. 65 
 
 Started. Let it be sufficient to say in general, 
 that, if you would form a religious character, 
 you are always to have in view the two objects 
 already named, — religious knowledge and 
 moral improvement. Your books, therefore, 
 will belong to one or the other of these two 
 departments; and it would be well to have 
 one of each kind always lying by you in the 
 course of being read. That is, be at all times 
 engaged with two books ; one of a moral and 
 devotional character, to keep your frame of 
 mind right, and your feelings in harmony with 
 eternal truth; the other, of an instructive 
 character, to enlarge your knowledge, and ex- 
 tend your ideas concerning God, and man, 
 and truth. Then you will never be at a loss 
 for occupation. You will not fritter away 
 precious hours in * wondering what you had 
 better do.' 
 
 To the better accomplishment of this pur- 
 pose, it will be well to obtain of your minister, 
 or some competent friend, a list of selected 
 books, in the order in which they should be 
 read. I earnestly recommend this. Many 
 persons read at random, without selection, 
 whatever they may accidentally meet with. 
 6* G 
 
66 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 They make no inquiry whether a book be 
 good or bad, worth perusal or not ; but, be- 
 cause it lies m their way, or has been read by 
 some friend, they read it. How many misera- 
 ble volumes of trash are thus devoured ! and 
 that, too, by persons who would be alarmed at 
 the suspicion that they are prodigally throwing 
 away their time. But they do not pursue the 
 same random course in other matters. They 
 do not choose their food or clothing of the 
 first thing which accidentally presents itself 
 They take pains, they spend time, they in- 
 quire, compare, judge and select only what 
 they deliberately perceive to be best. And 
 when we treat the body thus, shall we have 
 no care for the mind ? Shall we leave it to be 
 fed by any food which chance may bring 
 it, and thus expose it to the risk of pernicious 
 nourishment, to the hazard of being made 
 feeble, sickly, and corrupt? I adjure you, fall 
 not into this too common thoughtlessness. 
 Do not take it for granted, that, because it is 
 a printed book, therefore it must be worth 
 reading. Get advice upon the subject, and 
 read systematically; reflecting, that your ob- 
 ject is not amusement, but improvement, — im- 
 
READING. 67 
 
 provement of your religious nature ; and that 
 you have no more right to run the hazard of 
 poisoning it through a negligent selection of 
 its nutriment, than to destroy your body by 
 similar means. The religious culture of your 
 mind is a most responsible charge ; it is to be 
 effected, in no small degree, by the exercise 
 and guidance it shall receive from books ; and 
 how will you lift up your head, when the 
 Judge shall inquire concerning your manner 
 of preparing it for his kingdom, if you have 
 provided for its immortal appetite nothing but 
 unarranged and unselected trash, when stores 
 of the choicest kind were profusely spread 
 before you ? 
 
 It does not fall within my plan to pursue 
 this subject further, or to treat the many ques- 
 tions which may arise on the choice of books, 
 and habits of reading, in general. It may be 
 said in few words, that no work of truth and 
 science, or of elegance and taste, which does 
 not tend to corrupt the morals or create a dis- 
 relish for serious thought, need be prohibited 
 to a religious man. Withm the limits of this 
 restriction he may freely range. Let him only 
 remember, that even the employment of read- 
 
68 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 ing may become mere idleness and wasteful- 
 ness ; and that a man may decide respecting 
 his actual principles and character by the 
 character of the books to which he is most 
 attached. He must therefore watch and 
 guard his taste. Then he may find it in his 
 power to cause every hour thus spent to 
 minister to the growth of his best attain 
 ments. 
 
 II. Meditation. 
 
 This is a great and essential means of im- 
 provement. It is essential to self-examination 
 and self-knowledge, without which the hope 
 of progress and of virtue is vain. No one 
 can know his own character, or be aware of 
 the dispositions, feelings and motives by 
 which he is actuated, except by means of deep 
 and searching reflection. In the crowd of 
 business and the hurry of the world, we are 
 apt to rush on without weighing, as we should, 
 the considerations which urge us; we are 
 liable to neglect that close inspection of our- 
 selves, and that careful reference of our con* 
 duct to the unerring standard of right, which 
 are requisite both to our knowing where we 
 
MEDITATION. by 
 
 are, and to our keeping in the right way. It 
 is necessary that we sometimes pause and look 
 around us, and consider our ways; that we 
 take observation of the course we are running, 
 and the various influences to which we are 
 subjected, and be sure that we are not driven 
 or drifted from the direction in which we 
 ought to be proceeding. Without this there 
 is no safety. 
 
 Meditation, too, is necessary in order to the 
 digesting of religious truth, making familiar 
 what we have learned, and incorporating it 
 with our own minds. We cannot even retain 
 it in our memories, much less can we be fully 
 sensible of its power and worth, except 
 through the habit of reflecting upon it. We 
 cannot have it ready at command, so as to de- 
 fend it when assailed, or state it when in- 
 quired after, or apply it in the emergencies of 
 life, unless it be familiar to us by habitual 
 meditation; so that even reading loses its 
 value if unaccompanied by reflection. The 
 obligations and motives of duty, the promises, 
 hopes and prospects of the Christian, the 
 great interests and permanent realities by 
 which he is to be actuated, are not visibly and 
 
70 MEANS OP RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 tangibly present to him, like the scenes of liis 
 passing life ; and they must be made spiritual- 
 ly present by deliberate meditation, if he 
 would be guided and swayed by them. In- 
 deed, without this, he must be without consid- 
 eration or devotion, ignorant of the actual state 
 of his character, and in constant danger of 
 falling a sacrifice to the unfriendly influences 
 of the world. 
 
 In attempting, therefore, the acquisition 
 of a religious character, it is important that 
 you maintain an habitual thoughtfulness of 
 mind. It has been said, and with perfect 
 truth, that no man pursues any great interest 
 of any kind^ in which important consequences 
 are at stake, without a profound and settled 
 seriousness of mind ; and that a man of really 
 frivolous disposition never accomplishes any 
 thing valuable. How especially true must 
 this be, in regard to the great interests of 
 religion and eternity ! How can you hope to 
 make progress in that perplexing and diflicult 
 work, the establishment of a religious charac- 
 ter, the attainment of the great Christian 
 accomplishments, without a fixed and habitual 
 thoughtfulness? — a thoughtfulness which never 
 
MEDITATION. 71 
 
 forgets the rastness and responsibility of 
 the work assigned to man, nor loses the 
 consciousness of a relation to more glorious 
 beings than are found upon the earth. This 
 must be your habit ; — something more than an 
 occasional musing and reverie, at set times, 
 when you shall force yourself to the task. It 
 must be the uniform condition of your mind ; 
 as much so as solicitude to the merchant, 
 who has great treasures exposed to the 
 uncertainties of the ocean and the foe ; — a 
 solicitude, in your case not gloomy, or unsocial, 
 or morose, but thoughtful ; so that nothing 
 shall be done inconsiderately, or without 
 adverting to the bearing it may have on your 
 character and final prospects. 
 
 Then, besides this general state of mind, 
 there must be, as I have said, allotted periods 
 of express meditation. As the precept re- 
 specting devotion is, 'Pray without ceasing,' 
 and yet set times of prayer are necessary : so 
 also, while we say, * Be always thoughtful,' we 
 must add, that particular seasons are necessary 
 on purpose for meditation. You must set 
 apart certain times for reflection, when you 
 shall deliberately sit down and survey with 
 
72 MEANS OP RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 keen scrutiny yourself, your condition, your 
 past life, and the prospect before you ; inquire 
 into the state of your religious knowledge and 
 personal attainments ; and strengthen your 
 sense of responsibility and purposes of duty, 
 by dwelling on the attributes and government 
 of God, the ways of his providence, the rev- 
 elations of his word, the requisitions of his 
 will, the glory of his kingdom, and all the 
 affecting truths and promises which the gos- 
 pel displays. These are to be subjects of 
 distinct and profound consideration, till your 
 mind becomes imbued with them, and until, 
 filled and inspired by the spiritual contem- 
 plation, you are in a manner * changed into 
 the same image as by the spirit of the Lord.' 
 The proper season for this is the season of 
 your daily devotion ; when, having shut out 
 the world, and sought the nearer presence of 
 God, your mind is prepared to work fervently. 
 Tlien, contemplation, aided by prayer, ascends 
 to heights which it could never reach alone ; 
 and sometimes, whether in the body or out of 
 the body it can hardly tell, soars, as it were 
 to the third heaven, and enjoys a revelation 
 to which, at other hours, it is a stranger. 
 
MEDITATION. 73 
 
 This, however, is an excitement of mind 
 which is rarely to be expected. Those sea- 
 sons are * few as angel's visits,'' which lift the 
 spirit to any thing like ecstasy. They are 
 glimpses of heaven, which the soul, in its pres- 
 ent tabernacle, can seldom catch, only fre- 
 quently enough to afford a brief foretaste of 
 that bliss to which it shall hereafter arrive. 
 Its ordinary musings are less ethereal ; happy, 
 undoubtedly, though oftentimes clouded by 
 feelings of sadness and doubt, and by a sense 
 of unworthiness and sin. But however mixed 
 they may be, they are always salutary. If sad 
 and disheartening, they lead to more vigilant 
 self-examination, that we may discover their 
 cause, and thus rekindle the watchlight that is 
 so essential to right progress. If serene and 
 ioyous, they are a present earnest of the peace 
 which is assured to the righteous, and the joy 
 of heart which is one of the genuine fruits of 
 the spirit. Be not, therefore, troubled or cast 
 down (indeed never be cast down, so long as 
 you can say to your soul, Trust in God) ; be 
 not, I say, disquieted or cast down, because of 
 the inequalities of feeling with which you 
 enter and leave your closet, and the changes 
 
74 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 from brightness to gloom, from clearness to 
 obscurity, which often pass over your mind. 
 This, alas ! is the inheritance of our frail na- 
 ture. An equal vigor of thought, clearness 
 of apprehension, force of imagination, fervor of 
 devotion, always perceiving, feeling, adoring, 
 with the same vividness and satisfaction, 
 are to be our portion in the world of spirits. 
 Here we see all things, * as in a glass, 
 darkly' ; there we shall see * face to face.' 
 Here the truths we rejoice in are too often 
 like the images of absent friends, which we 
 strive in vain to bring brightly before the eye 
 of our minds ; they are shadowy, indistinct, 
 and fleeting. But there they will be like our 
 friends themselves, always present in their 
 own full form and beauty, to dwell in the 
 mind unfadingly, and constitute its bliss. 
 Be satisfied, then, if you sometimes arrive, in 
 your meditations, at that glow of elevated 
 enjoyment which you desire. What you 
 are rather to seek for, is, a calm and com- 
 posed state of the affections, an equanimity 
 of spirit, a serenity of temper ; — like the 
 quiet which an affectionate child experiences 
 in the circle of its parents and brothers, 
 
MEDITATION. 75 
 
 where it is net excited to ecstasy by the 
 thought of its father's goodness, but lives 
 beneath it in a state of equal and affection- 
 ate trust. Like this should be the habitual 
 experience of the Christian ; and if it be 
 thus with you, let not occasional dullness or 
 darkness, coming over your spirit in its reli- 
 gious hours, dishearten or distress you. 
 
 This I say, because many persons of tru- 
 ly devout habits have unquestionably suf- 
 fered much from this cause. In the natural 
 fluctuations of the animal spirits, or the 
 nervous system, or the bodily health, they 
 sometimes find themselves cold at heart, 
 and seemingly insensible to religious con- 
 siderations. It seems to them that their 
 hearts have waxed gross, that their eyes are 
 closed, and their ears become dull of hear- 
 ing. In vain do they read and think ; they 
 cannot arouse themselves to any thing like 
 a * realizing sense ' of these great objects ; 
 but regard with a stupid unconcern what at 
 other times has been the source of their 
 chief enjoyment. But let the humble and 
 timid believer be of good cheer. This is 
 not always a sign of guilt, or of desertion 
 
76 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 by God. It may be traced to the original 
 and unavoidable imperf^tion of human na- 
 ture ; it is to be lamented as such, but not 
 to be repented of as sin ; and one may not 
 expect to be relieved from it, till the soul 
 is freed from the body. Let him watch the 
 course of his mind, and he will find the 
 same inequality of feeling to exist upon 
 other subjects. He does not at all times 
 take an equal interest in his ordinary con- 
 cerns, nor does he at all times feel the high- 
 est warmth of affection toward his parent, 
 friend, 'or child. Let him observe others, and 
 he will discover the same variations in them. 
 They will confess it to be so. The oldest 
 and most established Christians will de- 
 scribe themselves to have passed their whole 
 pilgrimage in this state of fluctuation. Read 
 the private journals of distinguished believ- 
 ers, and you find in them frequent com- 
 plaints of lukewarmness, indifference, and 
 deadness of heart. They mourn over it, they 
 bewail it, they strive against it, and yet it 
 adheres to them as long as they live. It is 
 not, therefore, your peculiar sin, but a com- 
 mon infirmity. Regard it in this light ; and 
 
MEDITATION. 77 
 
 do not let it destroy your peace of mind, or 
 lead you to overlook the rational evidence 
 that your heart is right with God. 
 
 But also, on the other hand, — for the 
 Christian's path is hedged in with dangers 
 on every side, and in trying to escape from 
 one it is easy to rush into another, — take 
 heed that you do not unwarrantably apply 
 this consolation and make this excuse to 
 yourself in cases in which you really deserve 
 blame. Do not let this apology, which is 
 designed only for the comfort of the hum- 
 ble and watchful, be used by you as a cover 
 for negligence and sinful self-confidence. 
 Remember that your unsatisfactory state of 
 religious sensibility may be possibly your 
 fault ; and y<^u are not to presume that it is 
 otherwise, untd you have faithfully searched 
 and tried. Have you not, for a time, been 
 unreasonably devoted to amusement, or en- 
 grossed by unnecessary cares, so as to have 
 neglected the watching of your heart ? Have 
 you not for a season been thoughtless, light- 
 minded, frivolous, and careless of that de- 
 vout reference to God, by which you should 
 always be actuated ? Have you not engaged 
 7* 
 
78 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 in some questionable undertaking, or allow- 
 ed yourself in sloth or self-indulgence, or 
 cherished ill feelings toward others, or per- 
 mitted your temper to be kept irritated by 
 some unimportant vexations, or let your imagi- 
 nation run loose among forbidden desires ? 
 Ask yourself such questions ; and perhaps 
 in the nature of your recent occupations 
 you may detect the cause of your present 
 listlessness. If so, change the general turn 
 of your life. In the words of Cowper's 
 hymn, it is only * A closer walk with God,' 
 which can bring back ' the blessedness you 
 once enjoyed.' Now, your heart is desolate 
 and unsatisfied ; you find in it * an aching 
 void, which God alone can fill ;' and it is 
 only by renewing your acquaintance with 
 him, that you can renew your peace. 
 
 But, after all, remember that you are to 
 judge of the real worth of these seasons, not 
 by your enjoyment of them as they pass, 
 not by the luxury or rapture of your contem- 
 plation, but by their effect upon your char- 
 acter and principles, by the religious power 
 you gain from them toward meeting the du- 
 ties and sufferings, the joys and sorrows, 
 
MEDITATION. 79 
 
 the temptations, trials and conflicts of ac- 
 tual life. Meditation is a means of reli- 
 gion; not to be rested in as a final good, 
 nor allowed to satisfy us, except so far as it 
 imparts to the character a permanent im- 
 press of seriousness and duty, and strength- 
 ens the principles of faith and self-govern- 
 ment. If it add daily vigor to your resolu- 
 tions, and secure order to your thoughts, se- 
 renity to your temper, and uprightness to your 
 life, then it has fulfilled us legitimate pur- 
 pose. If, on the other hand, it end in the 
 reverie of the hour, then, however fervent 
 and exalted, it is, comparatively speaking, 
 worthless to yourself and unacceptable to 
 God. Its permanent influence on the char- 
 acter is the true test of its value. 
 
 It is easy to see, therefore, that there are 
 three purposes which you have in view ; the 
 cultivation of a religious spirit, the scrutiny 
 of your life and character, the renewing of 
 your good purposes. 
 
 By the first of these, you are to insure the 
 predominance of a spiritual frame of mind, 
 a perpetual, paramount interest in divine 
 truth, and its incorporation with the frame 
 
80 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 and constitution of your soul ; so that you 
 shall be continually enlarging your apprehen- 
 sions concerning God, his providence and 
 his purposes, and shall at the same time make 
 them part of the very substance of your intel- 
 lectual constitution, the pervading and actu- 
 ating motives of all your life. 
 
 By this means religion becomes to the 
 Christian what the spirit of his profession is to 
 the soldier, — the one present thought, motive, 
 and impulse, absorbing all others, and urging 
 him to his one great object by its mastery over 
 all other thoughts, principles, and affections. 
 The other two purposes of meditation which 
 I mentioned, may be described as the survey- 
 ing and burnishing of the warrior's arms/ip 
 preparation for the summons to actual combat ; 
 or as the act of the mariner in mid ocean, who 
 every day lifts his instruments to the light of 
 heaven, and consults his charts and his books, 
 that he may learn where he is, and what has 
 been his progress, and whether any change 
 must be made in his course in order to his 
 reaching the intended haven. The warrior who 
 should allow his arms to rust for want of a 
 little daily care, and the mariMer who should 
 
MEDITATION. 81 
 
 be shipwrecked from neglect of taking sea- 
 sonable observations, are emblems of the folly 
 of the man who presses on through life, with- 
 out ever pausing to scrutinize the principles 
 on which he acts, and rectify the errors he has 
 committed. 
 
 This self-examination must be universal; 
 embracing alike the conduct of your ex- 
 ternal life and the habitual tenor of your mind. 
 You must survey the train of your thoughts, 
 the temper you have sustained, your deport- 
 ment toward others, your conversation, your 
 employment, the use of your time and of your 
 wealth; you must consider by what sort of 
 motives you are prevailingly guided, what is 
 the probable effect of your example, and 
 whether you are doing all the good which 
 might be reasonably expected of you ; you 
 must compare yourself with the example of 
 Jesus Christ, and measure your life by the 
 laws of holy living prescribed in his gospel. 
 And in order that these and other topics may 
 all have their place in the survey, it may not 
 be amiss to keep them by you on a written list 
 Cotton Mather adopted and recommended the 
 practice of assigning to such inquiries each its 
 
 H 
 
82 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 particular day of the week ; so that every day 
 might have its own topic of reflection, and 
 every topic its due share of attention. Others 
 may find this a useful suggestion. 
 
 A renewal of your resolutions ir to follow 
 this inquiry. Knowing where you are and what 
 you need, you are to arrange your purposes ac- 
 cordingly. It is a sad error of some to fancy 
 that seeing and acknowledging their faults is all 
 which is required of them. They sit down and 
 bewail them, and in weeping and sorrow waste 
 that energy of mind which should have been 
 exerted in amendment. But it is surely far bet- 
 ter, with manly readiness, to rise and act with- 
 out a tear, than to shed torrents of bitter water, 
 and still go on as before. Regret and remorse 
 naturally express themselves in weeping ; but 
 repentance shows itself in action. It may be- 
 gin in sorrow, but it ends in reformation. And 
 you have little reason to be satisfied with your 
 reflections and your penitence, if they do not 
 issue in prompt and resolute action. 
 
 III. Praver. 
 
 As there is no duty more frequently en- 
 joined in the New Testament by our Saviour 
 
PRAYER. 83 
 
 and the Apostles, so there is none which is a 
 more indispensable and efficacious means of 
 religious improvement, than Prayer; for 
 which reasons it demands particular atten- 
 tion. 
 
 The practice of devotion is a sign of spir- 
 itual life, and a means of preserving it. No 
 one prays heartily without some deep reli- 
 gious sentiment to actuate him. This sen- 
 timent may be but occasionally felt ; it may 
 be transient in duration ; but the exercise of it 
 in acts of devotion tends to render it habitual 
 and permanent, and its frequent exercise 
 causes the mind at length to exist always in a 
 devout posture. He who truly prays, feels, 
 during the act, a sense of God's presence, 
 authority, and love; of his own obligations 
 and unworthiness ; of his need of being better. 
 He feels grateful, humble, resigned, anxious 
 for improvement. He who prays often, often 
 has these feelings, and by frequent repetition 
 they become customary and constant. And 
 thus prayer operates as an active, steady, pow- 
 erful means of Christian progress. 
 
 Indeed nothing effectual is to be done with- 
 out it That it is a chief duty, even natural 
 
84 MEANS OP RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT 
 
 reason would persuade us. That it is a con- 
 dition on which divine blessings are bestowed^ 
 Christianity assures us. That it is a high grati- 
 fication and enjoyment, every one knows who 
 has rightly engaged in it. And that it is of 
 all means of moral restraint and spiritual ad- 
 vancement the most effective, no one can 
 doubt, who understands how powerfully it stirs 
 and agitates the strongest and most active 
 principles of man, and how complete is the 
 dominion which those principles have over his 
 character and conduct. All this is clear and 
 sufficient, without adding the assurance of the 
 Saviour, that it is effectual to draw down spir- 
 itual aid from heaven. Add this, and the 
 subject is complete. It is, both naturally and 
 by appointment, a chief duty of man ; from 
 the nature of the soul and the intercourse it 
 opens with God, it is the first enjoyment; 
 and through its own intrinsic power and the 
 promise of Jesus, it is the most effectual in- 
 strument of moral and spiritual culture. 
 
 Perhaps you have been accustomed to the 
 performance of this duty from your childhood 
 You were early taught to repeat your prayers, 
 morning and evening. Pains were taken to 
 
PRAYER. 85 
 
 make you understand the nature of the duty, 
 and to give you right impressions in perform- 
 ing it. Perhaps you have retained these im- 
 pressions, and have continued to this time the 
 practice of sincere devotion. On the other 
 hand, you may have lost those impressions, 
 and become neglectful of the duty. Or per- 
 haps you are so unhappy as never to have re- 
 ceived instruction on this head. You have 
 passed through childhood without the practice, 
 and without the sentiment which should in- 
 spire it ; and now, when awakened to a sense 
 of your responsibility, you find yourself a 
 stranger to the mercy-seat. But, however the 
 case may be, the sense of your religious wants 
 now urges you to devotion ; and you are anx- 
 ious to make that acquaintance with God, 
 which alone can secure you peace. How to 
 perform the duty, how to gain the satisfac- 
 tion, how to reap the advantage, are points 
 upon which you are anxious to obtain direc- 
 tion. 
 
 First of all, let me urge upon you the impor- 
 tance of a plan and of customary seasons for 
 your devotions. Have your settled appoint- 
 ments of time and place, and kt nothing in- 
 8 
 
80 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 terfere with them. Many would persuade you 
 that this is too formal ; that you should be left 
 more at liberty ; that, as you are to pray 
 always, it is quite needless to assign any 
 special season for the duty. And one may 
 conceive of a person having arrived at so high 
 a measure of spiritual attainment, that his 
 thoughts should be a perpetual worship, and 
 retirement to his closet would bring his mind 
 no nearer to God. But such is at best an 
 infrequent case ; at any rate it is not yours, — 
 you are a beginner ; it never can be yours, 
 except you use the requisite means of arriving 
 at it ; and certainly among the surest means 
 is the custom of setting apart stated seasons 
 for devotion. So that the very reason assign- 
 ed for neglecting, becomes a strong reason for 
 observing them. You must feed the soul as 
 you do the body, furnishing it with suitable 
 nourishment at suitable intervals. You must 
 keep its armor bright and serviceable, as does 
 the soldier in human warfare, who examines 
 and restores it at a certain hour daily. If it 
 were left to be done at any convenient season 
 a thousand trifling engagements might cause 
 the work to be deferred again and again, till 
 
riiAYER. 87 
 
 irretrievable injury should accrue. You have 
 too many other engagements and enticements 
 daily and hourly occurring, to make it safe for 
 you to leave this to accidental convenience or 
 inclination. In order to secure its perform- 
 ance, you must put it on the list of your daily 
 indispensable engagements ; and, as it is part 
 of your routine at certain hours to breakfast 
 and dine, and at certain hours to attend to the 
 concerns of your household and profession, so 
 also must it be, to retire at certain hours for 
 religious worship. The wisdom and experi- 
 ence of all the religious world insist on this ; 
 and it would not be necessary to state it so ur- 
 gently, if it did not seem to be a notion grow- 
 ing into favor with some, that, as the spirit, 
 and not the form, is the essential thing, it is 
 better not to be burdened with methods and 
 rules, but simply to pray always; — which, 
 there is reason to fear, would in practice be 
 found a precept to pray never. 
 
 Assign to yourself therefore some conve- 
 nient hour, when you shall be secure from 
 interruption, and not hurried by the call of 
 other business. If you are much engaged 
 in active affairs, you may perhaps be unable 
 
OO MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 to secure this, unless you rise for the purpose 
 in the morning, and sit up for it at night. 
 This, then, you must do. Deprive yourself of 
 a few moments' sleep, morning and evening. 
 And I may ask here, whether the multitude 
 of persons who excuse their inattention to 
 religious exercises by their want of time, do 
 not thereby expose themselves to a suspicion 
 of insincerity? For if they were truly ir 
 earnest, it would be a very little thing to retire 
 to their chambers fifteen minutes earlier, 
 and to rise from their beds fifteen minutes 
 sooner. If they were aware of the magnitude 
 of the gain, the sacrifice would seem insignifi- 
 cant. Nay, they might even perform the duty 
 upon their beds ; there would be no want of 
 time then. And some, who, from the misfor- 
 tune of poverty, have no place to which they 
 can retire, being compelled to live at every 
 moment in the company of others, should 
 learn to feel that the bed is their closet ; that, 
 when lying there, they can 'pray to the 
 Father who seeth in secret;' and that they 
 need make no complaint of want of opportuni- 
 ty, so long as they may follow the Psalmist, 
 
PRAYEiR. 89 
 
 who said, ' I remember thee on my bed, 
 and meditate on thee in the night-watches.' 
 
 Having, then, your stated times, if you 
 would make them in the highest measure prof- 
 itable, observe the following rules. First of 
 all, when the hour has arrived, seek to excite in 
 your mind a sense of the divine presence, and 
 of the greatness of the act in which you are 
 engaging. Summon up the whole energy of 
 your mind. Put all your powers upon the 
 stretch. Do not allow yourself to utter a 
 word, to use an expression, thoughtlessly, nor 
 without setting before yourself, in a distinct 
 form, its full meaning. Remember the words 
 of Ecclesiasticus : * When you glorify the 
 Lord, exalt him as much as you can ; for even 
 yet will he far exceed : and when you exalt 
 him, put forth all your strength, and be not 
 weary; for you can never go far enough.* 
 Pour your whole soul, the utmost intensity of 
 your feelings, into your words. One sentence 
 uttered thus is better than the cold repetition 
 of an entire liturgy For this reason, let your 
 prayer be preceded by meditation. In this 
 way make an earnest effort after a devout 
 temper. While you thus muse, the fire of 
 8* I 
 
90 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 your devotion will kindle, and then you may 
 * speak with your tongue ; * then you may 
 breathe out the adoring sentiments 6f praise 
 and thanksgiving, the holy aspirations after 
 excellence and grace, the humble confessions 
 of your contrite spirit, the glowing emotions 
 of Christian faith. As you proceed, you will 
 probably find yourself increasing in warmth 
 and energy ; especially if you give way to the 
 impulse of your feelings, and do not check 
 them by watching them too closely. To do 
 this chills the current of devotion, and changes 
 your prayer from the simple expression of 
 desire and affection, into an exercise of mental 
 philosophy. Wherefore, having warmed your 
 mind, give it free way, and let its religious 
 ardor flow on. But if, as will often be the 
 case, you find your thoughts wander and your 
 feelings cool, then pause, and by silent 
 thought bring back the mind to its duty ; and 
 thus intermix meditation with prayer, in such 
 manner that you shall never fall into the 
 mechanical, unmeaning repetition of mere 
 words. 
 
 As your object is not to get through with a 
 certain task, but to pray devoutly, you will 
 
PRAYER. 91 
 
 find it well to vary your method according to 
 circumstances, and not always adhere to the 
 same mode. I have sometimes suspected, 
 that one cause of the little efficacy of public 
 worship may be the invariable method of con- 
 ducting it; whereby it is rendered formal, 
 monotonous, and deficient in excitement. 
 But however this may be, it is quite certain 
 that a similar unvaried routine would be 
 extremely injudicious in private devotion. In 
 this respect, a very considerable latitude is 
 desirable. As you are not to consult the 
 wants or the convenience of others, but your 
 own duty alone, you may have a single regard 
 to what shall suit the immediate temper and 
 exigencies of your own mind, without being 
 bound by any prescribed rule as to subject, 
 language, or posture. — You will always have 
 by you the Bible to quicken and guide you. 
 But sometimes the first verse you read may 
 lead you to feelings, thoughts, and prayers, 
 which shall so occupy your soul that you will 
 read no more. And it is better to read but 
 one verse, which thus influences your whole 
 spiritual nature, than to read chapters in the 
 unheedful way that is too often practised. At 
 
f)2 MEANS OF RETJGTOrTS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 another time, however, the reading of the 
 Scriptures may bo your principal occupation, 
 and your less excited mind may not flow 
 beyond a short ejaculation at the close of each 
 verse. Sometimes you may find it well to 
 assist yourself by a printed or written form; 
 always, however, taking care to leave it, when 
 any sentiment or feeling arises within you 
 which is not there expressed. The main 
 advantage of a form in private is, to suggest 
 thoughts, and stimulate the mind ; as soon as 
 it has dope this, we should lay it down, and go 
 on of ourselves. Then, presently, if we find 
 it necessary, we may again recur to the form, 
 and make the whole exercise, if we please, an 
 alternate use of the form, and of our own 
 language. In all this we must be guided by 
 the occasion. 
 
 Similar varieties may be allowed in regard 
 to the subjects of our devotions. There are 
 some great and leading topics of adoration 
 and supplication, which may at no time be 
 forgotten or omitted. But it cannot be neces- 
 sary in every prayer to go over the whole field 
 of devotional sentiment. It is best that we 
 confine ourselves principally to those which 
 
PRAYER. 93 
 
 are most immediately interesting at the time, 
 and seek to render our present circumstances, 
 fortunes, failings, and prospects, the nourish- 
 ment of our devotion. The temptations of our 
 peculiar lot, our recent trials of temper, forti- 
 tude, and faith, the dealings of Providence with 
 our family and friends, the exposure, wants, 
 and improvement of those most dear to us, — 
 these, as they are at other moments of the 
 greatest concern to us, should be the objects 
 upon which we should, first of all, seek the 
 blessing of God. This it is to connect every 
 thing with religion ; in this way we shall avoid 
 the error, into which some have fallen, of mak- 
 ing religion a wholly independent existence, 
 with no reference to the ordinary duties of ac- 
 tive life, and no bearing on its common con- 
 cerns, and of course exercising no influence 
 upon them. Such persons have exhibited the 
 strange spectacle of two contradictory charac- 
 ters in one man, the one apparently devout, 
 the other immoral. But the consistent Chris- 
 tian will never separate his religion from his 
 life, nor his life from his religion. He will 
 seek to incorporate them most intimately with 
 each other. And this he will effect, in no 
 
94 MEANS OP RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 small degree, by making his daily prayers, not 
 the expression of general principles, and 
 indefinite confession, the recitation of articles 
 of faith, or declaration of vague desires aftei 
 holiness; but the expression of those senti- 
 ments which belong to his peculiar condition, 
 and a perpetual reference to his personal 
 character and circumstances. It is for these 
 and concerning these that he will pray ; and 
 therefore his prayers will vary as these do. 
 
 So much, in a general way, respecting the 
 subjects of private devotion. Next we may 
 say a few words respecting the posture. This 
 need not be invariably the same. Many have 
 laid stress upon it ; but it seems to me there 
 is a certain freedom to be allowed in this 
 particular to those who are invited * to come 
 boldly to the throne of grace.* Provided we 
 secure the right state of the heart, it can mat- 
 ter little what the attitude of the body may be. 
 There are times when the lowest prostration 
 seems best to express and promote the senti- 
 ment of lowly adoration and broken-hearted 
 humiliation in which the worshipper suppli- 
 cates his Father. But again, in a different 
 tone of spirit, he is prompted to stand erect, 
 
PRAYER. 95 
 
 and lift up bis head and hands, as an attitude 
 most corresponding to the elevated sen- 
 timents by which he is filled. While 
 sometimes he feels that in walking to and firo, 
 or sitting with his head leaning upon his 
 hands, he can best summon his mind to 
 spiritual worship. Cecil says, that his oratory 
 was a little walk in the corner of his chamber, 
 where he paced backward and forward as he 
 prayed. Others have been able to be devout 
 only on their knees. What I would briefly 
 urge is, that you be not scrupulous on this 
 head. Allow yourself in any mode. Try va- 
 rious modes. Adopt, from time to time, that 
 which best cultivates and encourages the right 
 tone of feeling. At the same time, you will 
 probably find some truth in the remark, that 
 the adoption of a suitable posture aids the 
 adoption of a suitable frame of mind ; that the 
 expression of reverence in the attitude conveys 
 a feeling of reverence to the spirit ; for which 
 reason it will be generally best to assume the 
 posture most associated with the sentiments of 
 devotion, and depart from it only when the 
 change may be favorable to engagedness and 
 fervor of mind. The soul may be as truly 
 
96 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 prostrated when you stand, or walk, or ride, or 
 work, or lie in your bed, as when you knee] 
 before the altar. 
 
 Neither be too scrupulous concerning the 
 use of your lips. It is oftentimes as well, or 
 better, to pray mentally, without uttering a 
 sound. Yet at the same time there is danger, 
 if this become our practice, that it will end in 
 turnmg prayer into meditation, and that our 
 hours of devotion will become hours of musing 
 and reverie. This would be injurious; and 
 therefore we should commonly use articulate 
 language. Our thoughts are so much asso- 
 ciated with words, and words with their 
 sounds, that it is not easy to think connectedly 
 and profitably without the use of speech. It 
 is well, as I have before said, to muse for a 
 time; but when, after musing, the fire is 
 kindled within us, as the Psalmist expresses 
 it, then we should * speak with our tongues.' 
 We shall find this an essential aid in render- 
 ing our sentiments and train of thought 
 distinct to ourselves; and in so impressing 
 them on our memories, that we shall be able 
 to employ them afterward for our guidance 
 and comfort. Good sentiments, which merely 
 
PRAYER 97 
 
 pass through the mind, but are not put into 
 words, are apt to leave no trace behind them ; 
 and he who should habitually indulge himself 
 in thinking his prayers, instead of expressing 
 them, would find it extremely difficult to say 
 what he had prayed for, or to turn to any 
 account in common life the employment of 
 his sacred hours. 
 
 Meditation is, in its nature, an act very 
 distinct from prayer, and must be very dis- 
 tinct in its effects. Some effects may be 
 common to the two ; but much of the peculiar 
 and the happiest influence of devotion on the 
 character must be lost to the man who 
 allows musing to take the place of prayer. 
 It is one thing to contemplate a blessing and 
 desire it; quite another to ask for it. The 
 latter may require a very different temper 
 of mind from the former ; and it is plain that 
 the promise of God is given to those who ask, 
 not to those who desire ; to those who employ 
 petition, not those who are content with con- 
 templation. Therefore arrange your thoughts 
 m words ; and generally give them a distinct 
 utterance in sound ; pausing occasionally for 
 reflection, and being certain that you do not 
 9 
 
98 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 employ words only, but that the thoughts 
 which they express are actually m your mind. 
 In regard to the choice of words, be not 
 too anxious. Take those which express your 
 meaning, without regard to their elegance 
 or eloquence. You will naturally fall into 
 language borrowed from the Scriptures, and 
 that is always good and appropriate. Only 
 take heed that you do not use it mechanically, 
 and without due consideration of its signifi- 
 cance. But when you do not use the terms 
 of scripture, take those which express what 
 you mean, and consider nothing further. I 
 would lay the more stress upon this, because 
 some persons actually plead, as an excuse for 
 the neglect of this duty, that they have no 
 command of language, and cannot readily 
 find correct and proper words. This would 
 be a very good reason for not attempting to 
 pray in public ; and it were to be wished that 
 some, who are forward to exhibit themselves 
 in this act, would consider it more seriously. 
 It is an injury to religion, when he, who 
 speaks to God in the public assembly, or the 
 circle of social worship, does it in rude, 
 hesitating, confused, inappropriate, or ungram- 
 
PRAYER. 99 
 
 matical language. But in private, when you 
 are simply to pour out your heart, and have 
 no witness but Heaven, allow yourself to put 
 aside all solicitude on this head. Speak as 
 you feel, and what you feel ; only taking care 
 that your feelings are right, and that you know 
 what they are. Alas ! you will often find it a 
 task difficult enough to regulate your feelings, 
 govern your thoughts, repress wandering de- 
 sires, keep out vain images, and bring your 
 soul to a proper attitude of reverence and love, 
 without the added embarrassment of arrang 
 ing words by the rules of rhetoric and taste. 
 This is an occupation which interferes with 
 the spirituality of the duty you are per- 
 forming. I beseech you to disregard it 
 altogether. 
 
 As respects times and seasons, it may be 
 considered as a salutary rule, that it is better 
 to pray often than long. There are times, 
 undoubtedly, when the mind is glowing and 
 the heart full, that the exercise may be advan- 
 tageously continued through a long period, 
 and the disciple, like his Master, may spend 
 the whole night in prayer. It would be a 
 pity to check the current when it flows thus 
 
100 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 spontaneously, or to lose the luxury of such 
 a season. There may be occasions, too, 
 when duty and improvement shaJ seem to 
 demand an extraordinary continuance in 
 devotion. I do not therefore recommend 
 that you should limit yourself to a certain 
 stinted number of minutes. But, as a 
 general rule, do not covet long prayers; 
 rather multiply their number than increase 
 their length. This is the rule of Christ ; 
 who insists that we pray often and always, 
 but that we do not pray long. A most 
 wise regulation. For the mind is easily 
 wearied by a long exercise, and is likely to 
 return to it slowly and reluctantly; and in the 
 interval, it is liable to go back, like the 
 swinging pendulum, into a directly opposite 
 state. From which cause it may too readily 
 happen that the extended devotions of the 
 morning shall exhaust the attention of the 
 mind, and produce religious listlessness during 
 the day. Whereas, a shorter act of worship, 
 which should excite without exhausting, which 
 should kindle the fire but not burn it out, 
 would leave a glow upon the feelings, that 
 would abide for hours, and prompt to hc!y 
 
PRAYER. 101 
 
 thoughts and spontaneous acts of worship at 
 short intervals throughout the day. In this 
 manner, the great object of keeping up a 
 rehgious wakefulness and sensibility is with 
 greater certainty obtained, and the whole 
 current of life more surely colored by the 
 infusion of religious sentiment. 
 
 Let this, therefore, be your method. Ac- 
 custom yourself to what is called ejaculatory 
 prayer ; that is, to very frequent petitions and 
 thanksgivings, bursting out from your soul at 
 all times and wherever you may be. Walk 
 with God as you would journey with an 
 intimate friend ; not satisfied to make forma! 
 addresses to him at stated seasons, but turning 
 to him in brief and familiar speech whenevei 
 opportunity offers, or occasion or feeling 
 prompts. Remember that ceremonious ad- 
 dresses are appointed, and are chiefly necessa- 
 ry, on social and ceremonious occasions, when 
 a company of men is together, and many 
 minds are to act at once. They can act and 
 be acted upon simultaneously in no other 
 way ; and therefore, in civil and state affairs, 
 as well as in religious, this method is in use 
 But when we come to more private, domestic, 
 9* 
 
102 MILiNS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROTEMENT. 
 
 confidential intercourse, we abandon these 
 formal and complimentary arrangements, and 
 find it most natural and happy to do as occa- 
 sion prompts, in a fi*ee and unrestrained style 
 of conduct and of speech. Just so it should 
 be in our more private and confidential 
 communion with the great Father of our 
 spirits. The more it is unembarrassed by 
 precise forms and ceremonious appendages, 
 / and left to the promptings of the feelings and 
 I of the moment, the more appropriate is it to 
 our title of * children,' and the greater is the 
 felicity which it furnishes. 
 
 It has, of course, been implied in the pre- 
 ceding remarks, that all is to be done in the 
 spirit of devotion. In what manner this may 
 be effected, it is necessary to state more 
 distinctly ; and the rules to be given for this 
 end will sufficiently explain in what that 
 spirit consists. 
 
 First, then, the genuine, effectual prayer 
 is the prayer of Faith ; not of words, not of 
 form ; not an exercise of the understanding, 
 reasoning on the attributes and dispensations 
 of God, and uttering its judgments on duty : 
 but an address to him, accompanied by a 
 
PRAYER. 103 
 
 confident persuasion that he hears and regards. 
 ' He that cometh to God,' says the Apostle, 
 * must beheve that he is, and that he is a 
 rewarder of them that diligently seek him.' 
 Of this there must be no doubt on the mind. 
 You must realize that you are actually speak- 
 ing to him, and he listening to you, as truly 
 as when you address yourself to a visible 
 mortal ; and you must have as real a conviction 
 that something depends on the act, and as real 
 a desire to receive vi^hat you ask for, as when 
 you make a request for some important favor 
 to a human friend. If you doubt, your prayer 
 is weak and inefficacious. * Ask in faith,' 
 says James, * nothing wavering ; for he that 
 wavereth is like a wave of the sea, driven 
 with the wind and tossed.' His uncertain 
 and fluctuating mind wants stability, and 
 cannot receive a blessing. Therefore it is 
 added, * Let not that man think that he shall 
 obtain any thing from the Lord.' May we 
 not suppose, that much of the dissat;isfaction 
 attendant on our prayers, and much of their 
 unfruitfulness, is owing to the doubtful, 
 hesuatmg state of mind in which they are 
 offered? And what can be more miserably 
 
104 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 destructive of all energy and interest in the 
 employment? If you doubt whether you 
 shall be heard, you will pray timidly and 
 coldly, without courage or spirit. If your 
 prayers are thus lifeless, your conduct will 
 be so too, and all spiritual savor will fade 
 away from your life. Do not, then, allow in 
 yourself this doubtfulness of temper. The 
 most extravagant fanaticism, which sees a 
 visible light descending as it prays, and finds 
 an answer in presentiments and dreams, 
 is not more mistaken, and is far more happy. 
 Give yourself up to the assurance, that they 
 who ask shall be heard, and go * boldly to 
 the throne of grace.' Jesus, by his invitations 
 and doctrine, has given you a right to this 
 confidence; and it is only in the exercise 
 of it, humbly, but firmly, that you may * cast 
 out the fear which hath torment.' 
 
 Next, your prayer must be fervent; that 
 IS, your affections must be engaged and in- 
 terested in it. You must not barely, as a 
 reasoning philosopher, or well instructed pupil, 
 declare what you coolly judge to be right, 
 and assert that man, in his present relations, 
 ought to seek and io what is right, and tha» 
 
PRAYER. 1 05 
 
 God, as the Father and Governor, should be 
 adored and obeyed (which is the tenor of the 
 devotional exercises one sometimes hears) ; 
 but you must set yourself actually to do these 
 things. You can only be said to pray when 
 the sentiment you utter springs from your 
 heart; and, rising above all the arguments 
 and persuasions of the wise, you pour out 
 your feelings, as a little child confides its 
 thoughts to a parent's bosom; thinking only 
 of your own dependence and need, and of 
 God's ability and readiness to succor you, 
 and earnestly aspiring after that purity and 
 piety, which you feel to constitute the excel- 
 lence and bliss of man. When this fervent 
 glow is upon your mind, you pray in the 
 spirit. Seek for it. Be not content with- 
 out it. 
 
 In the njext place, do not allow yourself to 
 grow weary. Persevere ; however ill satisfied, 
 however discouraged, persevere. Open the 
 New Testament, and you will see how this is 
 insisted upon, again and again, and by various 
 illustrations. ' That men should always pray, 
 and never faint,' was the great moral of more 
 than one of our Lord's parables ; and to ' pray 
 K 
 
106 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 without ceasing ' was the corresponding direc- 
 tion of his Apostles. Situated as we are in 
 this world, there is danger that, perceiving little 
 immediate fruit from our devotions, we should 
 relax our diligence in them ; first doubting 
 their value, then losing our interest in them, 
 and then ceasing to perform them. But we 
 should recollect, that, in this case, as in all 
 the most important and admirable provisions 
 of Divine Wisdom, it is the order of Heav- 
 en to give, not to a single exertion, nor to a 
 few acts, nor even to some continuance of 
 effort, but only to a long, unremitted, perse- 
 vering effort. We read this lesson every 
 where. Look at that glorious operation of 
 God, by which the sun cherishes and matures 
 the fruits of the earth for the sustenance of 
 its creatures. It is not accomplished by one 
 act, nor by several acts, nor yet by sudden, 
 violent exertions of power. He sends out his 
 beams steadily, day by day, month after 
 month; yet the fruit is still green, the harvest 
 immature ; and if, weary with the work, he 
 should abandon it, famine might devastate the 
 globe, when but six days' longer perseverance 
 would see it successful. The whole toil of the 
 
PRAYER 107 
 
 season might thus be lost, when a trifling addi- 
 tion only was necessary to render it all-effective. 
 In how many other cases is the same truth il- 
 lustrated ! Will you, then, abandon your pray- 
 ers, because you do not witness the effect from 
 them which you desire ? Will you be discour- 
 aged, when, by a little longer continuance, you 
 may receive the full blessing at once ? Shall 
 the husbandman 'wait patiently,' and will 
 you, looking for an immortal harvest, lose it 
 for want of patience ? No. This is the eter- 
 nal, immutable rule in regard to all great ac- 
 quisitions. Piety and virtue, character and 
 immortality, depend upon a long succession 
 of actions, neither of them, taken singly, of 
 essential moment, yet all, in the aggregate, es- 
 sential to effect the great end in view. Apply 
 this consideration to your prayers, and reso- 
 lutely persevere. 
 
 Thus it is the humble prayer of confident 
 faith, fervent and persevering, from which 
 you are to hope benefit and acceptance. 
 
 But you may ask. How shall 1 know that it 
 is accepted, and with what answer should I be 
 satisfied ? 
 
 To the first part of this question, there is 
 
i08 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 but one reply. If you are conscious of having 
 prayed aright, you may be assured that your 
 prayer is accepted. You can have no exter- 
 nal evidence of the fact ; but the Scriptures 
 every where declare, that a right prayer 
 is certainly accepted. This, then, is a reason 
 for self-examination, and for carefully regu- 
 lating the state of your mind. 
 
 You may. imagine, however, that you are 
 rather to judge by the answer to your prayers ; 
 and that if, after offering earnest petitions for 
 certain blessings, you find them denied, you 
 are to suppose that your devotions are not ac- 
 cepted. 
 
 In regard to this, I observe, that the purpose 
 of prayer is twofold — particular and general ; 
 the first, to supplicate certain specific bless- 
 ings which we need or desire ; the second, to 
 obtain the divine favor in general ; or, which 
 is equivalent to it, to obtain that state of mind 
 and heart which is always an object of com- 
 placency with God, and secures his permanent 
 approbation. Now it is evident, that the 
 latter is an object infinitely more important 
 than the former. It is of no consequence 
 whether your receive certain gifts of health, or 
 
PRAYER. 109 
 
 safety, or prosperous affairs, in comparison 
 with the importance of attaining that frame of 
 soul which God approves, and which will fit 
 you for heaven. If, then, you have plainly 
 gathered from your devotions the advantage 
 of a religious growth, if you are brought by 
 them nearer to God, formed into the likeness 
 of Jesus Christ, and made superior to the 
 things of earth and sense ; — then you have 
 gained the highest objects which man may as- 
 pire to, and should feel no dissatisfaction or 
 doubt because inferior blessings are denied. 
 Having received the greater, you should be 
 content not to receive the less. And this is a 
 sufficient reply to the second part of the ques- 
 tion stated above : viz. With what answer 
 shall I be satisfied ? Be satisfied with that an- 
 swer which is found in the improving state of 
 your own religious affections; in the peace, 
 serenity, confidence, and hope, which belong 
 to a mind habitually conversant with God, and 
 which God bestows only on such. 
 
 I do not mean to say, that other and more 
 
 specific answers may not be sometimes given ; 
 
 for doubtless the devout mind may oflen have 
 
 reason to trace particular blessings, and with 
 
 10 
 
no MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 a practised eye may trace them, to a source 
 which has been opened in reply to the prayer 
 of faith. When you shall perceive it to be so 
 in your own case, happy will you be ; and 
 you will not fail to acknowledge it with suit- 
 able gratitude. But what I mean to say is, 
 that this is not what you are habitually to ex- 
 pect; you are not to wait for this in order 
 to the satisfaction of your mind. God feeds 
 his children with spiritual food ; and it is 
 one part of his discipline of their faith, to 
 deny them temporal blessings in order to 
 the more abundant bestowal of those that are 
 spiritual ; to advance the moral man to perfec- 
 tion through the disappointment or mortifica- 
 tion of the outward man. Do not, then, be 
 uneasy, because your prayers may at first view 
 seem inefficacious. The service of truth and 
 virtue is not to be rewarded by the wages of 
 this world's goods. Health, strength, riches, 
 prosperity, are not the best, they are not the 
 appropriate, recompense, for self-denial, humil- 
 ity, benevolence, and purity. The true recom- 
 pense is eternal and imperishable. If you 
 have this, why be dissatisfied that you have 
 not the other? If you have this, how can 
 
PRAYER. Ill 
 
 you fancy that God has not accepted your 
 prayer ? 
 
 To which it may be added, that, if you 
 prayed aright, you prayed in the spirit of sub- 
 mission ; not only acknowledging, but feeling, 
 the wisdom of Heaven to be greater than your 
 own, and desiring to obtain only such gifts as 
 that wisdom should judge it best to bestow. 
 Such gifts, of course, are granted. If, there- 
 fore, you were sincere, you should be content. 
 You are not relieved, perhaps, from the 
 trouble against which you prayed; the evil 
 you fear comes, the good you desire is denied, 
 notwithstanding your earnest supplication. 
 But does it follow that your prayer is slighted ? 
 Believe it not. What you designed was, to 
 ask blessings; you named the things which 
 you esteemed such ; but at the same time you 
 knew that your judgment was fallible. If 
 God has refused the things specified, it is be- 
 cause in his judgment they would not prove 
 blessings, and he has bestowed in their stead 
 an increase of faith, which is a real blessing. 
 Or perhaps I may say, he has proposed to you 
 a discipline of your faith, which will prove a 
 transcendent good, unless, by your blind dis- 
 
1 12 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 content and misuse of it, you turn it into a 
 curse. 
 
 It will follow from these remarks, that we 
 are to dwell in prayer on topics i-ather of a 
 spiritual than of a temporal nature ; that we 
 should ask such things as relate rather to our 
 character than to our condition, rather to our 
 religious than to our worldly prosperity. For, 
 these being the chief objects of desire and 
 happiness (so much so, that our petitions for 
 earthly good oftentimes receive no reply 
 but in the state of our own minds), it must 
 follow that they should be our chief objects 
 of interest and desire in our exalted hours 
 of communication with God. Our religious 
 addresses in those hours are made up of 
 adoration, thanksgiving, confession, petition. 
 Now, two of these, adoration and confession, 
 relate to spiritual objects exclusively. The 
 other two relate to objects of both a spiritual 
 and temporal character, the blessings and 
 wants of both soul and body. But it is plain 
 that the former far exceed the latter in num- 
 ber and in importance, and should therefore 
 occupy the larger share of attention. If, then, 
 you would do what is most consonant to the 
 
PRA £BR. 1 13 
 
 nature of the exercise, and your own most 
 real wants ; if you would receive blessings 
 corresponding to the petitions you express ; 
 you will dwell principally on spiritual and 
 immortal good ; seeking first of all, in 
 prayer as at all times, * the kingdom of God 
 and its righteousness.' You will do this, 
 also, if you would copy the pattern which 
 our Lord has given ; for of the seven sen- 
 tences of the prayer which he taught his 
 disciples, only one has relation to man's tem- 
 poral condition. You will do it, if you would 
 imitate our great Exemplar and Master, 
 whose recorded prayers have exclusive 
 regard to the welfare of his spiritual king- 
 dom and the bestowment of internal bless- 
 ings. 
 
 And it is not to the example alone of the 
 Saviour that you are to have reference in 
 your prayers. You are also to regard him 
 as the Mediator through whom they are to 
 be offered. It belongs to the system of our 
 religion, that the thought of its Founder 
 should be associated in the minds of its dis- 
 ciples with all that they are and do; with 
 their sense of obligation, and their sentiments 
 10* L 
 
114 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 of piety. They are ' to do every thing in the 
 name of the Lord Jesus ;' with a conscious- 
 ness of their connexion with him, and of their 
 dependence upon the instruction, motives, 
 and strength, which they have received from 
 him. They are ^ to walk by faith in the Son 
 of God.' His image is to be blended with their 
 whole life. Especially is this to be the case in 
 the acts of life which are strictly and pecu- 
 liarly religious. * Whatsoever ye ask in my 
 name, believing.' * Giving thanks unto God 
 and the Father by him.' It is only through 
 his instruction, authority, and encouragement, 
 that they know their privilege of filial worship, 
 and are enabled so to offer it that they may 
 look for acceptance. The hope of pardon on 
 the confession of sin is grounded upon what 
 he has done, suffered, and declared; and 
 the confidence with which the penitent seeks 
 forgiveness and life, is owing to his trust in 
 the word of Jesus, and his being able to lean 
 on him as a friend and advocate, when he 
 casts himself a suppliant before God. Under- 
 stand, then, that the acceptable prayer is that 
 ivhich is made in the name of the great In- 
 tercessor: and let your heart be warm(ul 
 
PRAYER. 115 
 
 and imboldened in your devotions by the con- 
 sciousness of your relation to him * whom the 
 Father heareth always.' 
 
 I will add but two further remarlcs before 
 closing this topic. First, I have all along 
 assumed, that I am addressing a person sin- 
 cerely engaged in the pursuit of religious 
 attainments. This sincerity of pursuit is a 
 fundamental requisite, without which all ex- 
 hortations, means, assistance, sacrifices, will 
 be only thrown away. If, therefore, after 
 having made some effort after a spirit of de- 
 votion, in pursuance of the course recom- 
 mended, you find, as men sometimes do, that 
 you derive from it neither improvement nor 
 satisfaction, I recommend to you to examine 
 whether you are really in earnest; whether 
 you do, actually in your heart, desire reli- 
 gious improvement; whether, in short, there 
 DC not in you a lurking preference for your 
 present state of mind, and an attachment to 
 some passion, taste, or pursuit, incompatible 
 with a zealous devotedness to Christian truth, 
 and a suitable attention to the discipline 
 which it demands. Many are, no doubt, pre- 
 vented from advancement by secret bin- 
 
116 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT, 
 
 (lerances of this nature, of whose operation 
 iiiey are not at all aware. If, upon inquiry, 
 you cannot discover that it is so with you, 
 then examine strictly the methods you have 
 pursued, and the observances you have prac- 
 tised. You will probably find that they have 
 been in some particulars injudiciously se- 
 lected, or improperly or insufficiently attend- 
 ed; that you have failed in a resolute, 
 steadfast, systematic adherence to your own 
 rules; that you have habitually allowed 
 yourself in something wrong, or neglected 
 something right. Look after your mistake. 
 When you shall have discovered and correct- 
 ed it, you may be certain of securing the im- 
 provement you desire. 
 
 Secondly, take heed that you do not allow 
 yourself to fancy, that an observance of 
 these or similar rules constitutes all your duty 
 under this head. Do not forget, that the 
 devotion which Christianity teaches is nothing 
 less than perpetually thinking, feeling, and 
 acting, as becomes a child of God, — a perpet- 
 ual worship. This is the end at which you 
 are to aim ; — an end, however, which is 
 not to be attained without the use of 
 
PRAYER. 117 
 
 means; and the directions in the preceding 
 pages are designed simply to point out some 
 of the means. Some persons do not need 
 such directions. For them they are not 
 designed. But there are others to whom they 
 must be welcome and wholesome. Let such 
 use them, but without forgetting that they are 
 means only. Let them guard, from the first 
 and always, against the idea, that the practice 
 of these will secure the great object, without 
 any further exertion or sacrifice ; that to be 
 devout men, they have only to observe stated 
 seasons, and perform stated acts. There 
 cannot be a more pernicious error. It is at 
 variance with the whole nature and spirit of 
 Christianity. God is to be served by the en- 
 tire life ; by its actions as well as its thoughts, 
 its duties as well as its desires, its deeds as 
 well as its feelings. 
 
 The religious man must have the frame of 
 his mmd and the tenor of his conduct at all 
 times religious ; in the market and the family 
 no less than in the closet and the church. In- 
 deed, considering how much more of life is 
 spent abroad in action and trial than is passed 
 in the worship and contemplation of retire- 
 
118 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 ment, it is plainly of greater consequence to 
 watch and labor in the world than in private. 
 Besides that it is easier to be religiously dis- 
 posed for an hour a day, when reading the 
 Bible or kneeling at the altar, than it is to be 
 so during the many other hours which are full 
 of the world's temptations, and when all the 
 irregular passions are liable to be excited. 
 Remember, then, to try your prayers by your 
 life ; you may know how sincere they are, by 
 their agreement or disagreement with your 
 habitual sentiments and conduct. Regulate 
 your life by your prayers; in vain do you 
 think yourself religious, if you go with holy 
 words and humble confessions to the Divine 
 presence, but at other times live in thought- 
 lessness and sin. True religion is a sinHe 
 thing. Devout exercises form a part of its 
 exhibition; holy living forms another part. 
 Unless they exist together, it is to no purpose 
 that they exist at all. To separate them is to 
 destroy the religion. To this consideration, 
 then, let your perpetual and vigilant attention 
 be given ; and be satisfied with your hours of 
 devotion only when they exercise a sacred 
 and constant influence over the condition of 
 
PREACHING 119 
 
 your mind and life, and have made them holy 
 to the Lord. 
 
 IV. Preaching. 
 
 From the more private means of religious 
 improvement, we pass to the consideration of 
 those which are in their nature public. 
 
 Preaching is a divine institution ; and its 
 authority and wisdom have been illustriously 
 justified in the success which has attended it in 
 every age of the church. It is to a publica- 
 tion from the lips of living teachers, that the 
 gospel owes its spread through so large a por- 
 tion of the globe. At its first introduction, 
 at its reformation, and in its present diffusion, 
 it has been the * company of the preachers ' 
 that has arrested attention to its divine truths, 
 and subdued the hearts of men to its holy 
 power. And it always must be the case, how- 
 ever great may be the efficacy of those more 
 personal instruments of which we have spoken, 
 that the pulpit shall be the main engine for 
 the incitement and instruction of the individual 
 mind, and the maintenance of the power of re- 
 ligion in the Christian world. 
 
 Multitudes, however, habitually attend the 
 
120 MEANS OP RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 preaching of the gospel, with little profit, and 
 with no adequate apprehension of its purpose 
 or value. Habit, thoughtlessness, inattention, 
 worldliness, cause its sublime instructions to 
 be unheeded, and render its powerful appeals 
 unimpressive. It may have been so with you, 
 m times past. But if you are now truly awake 
 to the necessity of studying the improvement 
 of your character, and making God's will the 
 rule of your life, you will listen eagerly to the 
 preaching of his truth, and drink it in as a 
 thirsty man water. I say nothing, therefore, 
 to urge the duty of attendance in the house of 
 prayer. You will esteem it one of your privi- 
 leges, and will feel that, however imperfectly 
 the word may be dispensed, it is yet full of a 
 divine savor, and profitable to any one who 
 seeks his soul's good rather than his mind's 
 entertainment. 
 
 In order to the greatest advantage from this 
 duty, it is well, in the first place, to give heed 
 to the manner in which the other hours of the 
 Sabbath are spent. There can be no doubt 
 that one considerable cause of the inefficacy 
 of preaching is to be found in the circum- 
 stance that the remamder of the Sabbath is 
 
PREACHING. 121 
 
 passed Ia a manner little likely to prepare the 
 mind for its religious services, and suited to 
 obliterate the impressions received from them. 
 The sentiments excited in holy time, instead 
 of being cherished, are checked and smother- 
 ed by the uncongenial engagements of the rest 
 of the day ; and Sunday becomes at length 
 even a day for hardening the heart, through 
 this habitual resistance of the most solemn 
 truths. For, when exposed to their frequent 
 repetition, if it do not yield to them, it must 
 inevitably become callous to them. This evil 
 you are to guard against, by making the whole 
 occupation of the day harmonize with that 
 portion of it which is spent in public worship. 
 And to do this implies no fanatical recluseness 
 or morose sullenness. It implies nothing but 
 the endeavor of a reasonable man, who finds 
 that the cares of the six days tend to distract 
 his feelings from religion, to counteract them 
 on the day set apart for that purpose. It is 
 only saying, with regard to all worldly occu- 
 pations, what Burke said of politics in the 
 pulpil ; — Six days are full of them, and six 
 days are enough ; let us give one day to some- 
 thing better. 
 
 11 
 
122 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 You will therefore be careful so to spend 
 your morning hours, that you shall enter the 
 sanctuary with a prepared mind, — already 
 touched with a sense of God, and tuned to his 
 praise. Your reading and your thoughts will 
 be directed to this purpose ; and instead of 
 cherishing or inviting vain thoughts and a 
 light state of feeling, by lounging over a news- 
 paper, or a novel, or by conversation on the 
 passing events of the day, you will occupy 
 yourself on such subjects as shall hallow the 
 temper of your mind, and exclude the crowd 
 of impertinent desires. Then you will be 
 ready to join feelingly in the public service of 
 your Maker, and listen profitably to the exhor- 
 tations of the pulpit. 
 
 You have doubtless observed in your own 
 case, and heard it remarked by others, that 
 the same discourse, under different circum- 
 stances, seems like a very different thing ; that 
 what at one time is listened to with pleasure 
 and interest, at another is heard with indiffer- 
 ence. To what can this be owing, but to the 
 variation in the hearer^s state of mind ? The 
 discourse is the same ; but it addresses itself 
 to a soul at one time tuned to the occasion 
 
PREACHING. 123 
 
 and the subject, and at another tuned to some- 
 thing else. So important is adaptation ; — as 
 might be illustrated in a thousand ways. 
 Hence you will study to carry a prepared 
 mind to the hearing of the word, that you may 
 not fail of receiving the utmost edification. 
 Otherwise you may sit under the most powerful 
 ministry, and hear divine truth dispensed with 
 an eloquence worthy of angels, and yet sit 
 unmoved. It can be powerful to your heart, 
 it can effectually promote your progress in the 
 Christian life, only through your own prepara- 
 tion to receive it, and in proportion to that 
 preparation. 
 
 Let me also caution you to remember, that 
 there is good and important matter belonging 
 to every subject which the pulpit may treat ; 
 and it is very unwise (to use the mildest 
 expression) to turn away dissatisfied, because 
 a sermon does not happen to fall in with the 
 slate of your feelings. Hearers are often 
 guilty of great injustice in this way. They 
 are too ready to measure the preacher's fidelity 
 by the degree in which he speaks to their own 
 immediate experience. They are earnestly 
 engaged in particular views, feelings, trains 
 
124 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROV^EMENT. 
 
 of thought, processes of experience, which, 
 filling their mind, seem to them all in all; 
 and if the preacher does not touch upon these, 
 they condemn him as dry, cold, and jejune. 
 But they should consider, that there are other 
 minds to be suited besides their own, and that 
 what is so ill adapted to themselves may be 
 precisely what is needed by others; nay, 
 precisely what they themselves may need at 
 another time. Instead of expressing dissatis- 
 faction, they should rejoice that every one 
 receives in turn a portion adapted to him, and 
 endeavor to elicit something applicable to 
 themselves. If they will but seek, they will 
 often find a seasonable word when they 
 least expect it. Let me entreat you to 
 make this your habit. If you do not, it is 
 plain that many Sundays will be lost to you, 
 (for you cannot have your own case always 
 treated,) and you will, moreover, become a 
 fastidious and querulous hearer, discontented 
 with yourself, and uncomfortable to others. 
 But if you resolutely bring your mind to take 
 an interest in whatever you hear, you will 
 always find cause for contentment and satis- 
 faction, if not for edification and delight. 
 
PREACHING. 125 
 
 Few things are more hostile to such attend- 
 ance on preaching as shall promote religious 
 improvement, than the habit of listening to 
 sermons as literary or rhetorical efforts, and 
 for the gratification of a literary taste. From 
 the very nature of the case, it must result in 
 constant dissatisfaction. For let it be con- 
 sidered how few of all the authors who have 
 published books, are able to give this gratifica- 
 tion ; and can it, then, be expected of every 
 preacher? How small a proportion of the 
 thousands who have preached, have print&d 
 their sermons ! and how few of these have a 
 place among the eminent names of literature ! 
 Hence it is impossible that every preacher 
 should, every Sunday, satisfy a man who has 
 formed his taste on printed specimens of 
 excellence, and who comes to gratify it at 
 church. It is inevitable that such a one 
 should be disappointed and displeased, far 
 more often than he shall be tolerably gratified. 
 Those who, on this ground, are accustomed 
 to speak harshly of ministers, and to excite 
 discontent in the community, would do well to 
 reflect on the unreasonableness of the requisi- 
 tion, and learn that they injure themselves by 
 11* 
 
126 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 ooking for what they cannot expect to find, to 
 the neglect of that substantial good which 
 alone is intended to be conveyed. But he 
 who thinks only of improvement, and the reli- 
 gious exercise of his mind, will always find 
 something to engage and satisfy him. Dis- 
 tinguished talent there may not be, nor 
 original thought, nor striking images, nor 
 tasteful composition, nor eloquent declama- 
 tion ; but Christian truth, old and familiar 
 perhaps, but still high and important, there al- 
 ways will be. Dwelling upon this, excited 
 by it to reflection, occupied in studying by its 
 light his own character and prospects, and the 
 perfections and purposes of God, he has no 
 lack of interesting thought. The preacher 
 becomes but a secondary object. His God, 
 his duty, his salvation, — these are the topics 
 on which his mind runs ; and these he can 
 contemplate : he will not be hindered from 
 contemplating them, whatever may be the 
 feebleness or deficiencies of him who ministers 
 at the altar. 
 
 Bacon has laid down a rule for profitable 
 reading, which ought to be sacredly applied tc 
 preaching, by those who would listen to it 
 
PREACHING. 127 
 
 profitably : * Read, not to contradict and 
 confute, nor to believe and take for granted, 
 nor to find talk and discourse, but to weigh 
 and consider.' What you hear from your 
 minister, * weigh and consider * for a religious 
 end and a personal application. To listen as 
 a critic, with a fastidious nicety about diction, 
 and a captious sensibility to style, is a sure 
 method to defeat what should be the first 
 object with the hearer, as it is the great 
 purpose of the speaker. For which reason, it 
 has been remarked, we are not to be surprised 
 that Paul, with all his energy of speech, made 
 so few converts, and gathered no church, 
 among the Athenians ; the sensitive and intel- 
 lectual taste, and love of ingenious fancies, 
 which distinguished them, formed a habit of 
 mind peculiarly fitted to destroy the capacity 
 for receiving any strong and profound impres- 
 sions. 
 
 In the next place, if you think that when 
 you leave the house of God, you may dis- 
 charge from your mind the thoughts and 
 sentiments there excited ; if you immediately 
 join in frivolous society and ordinary conver- 
 sation ; if you occupy your time in making 
 
128 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 visits of ceremony, or in reading the Sunday 
 newspaper and books of amusement, you can 
 derive little advantage from the service in 
 which you have engaged. However serious 
 may have been your attendance, however 
 earnest the wish for improvement, you are 
 taking the surest method to render it all 
 vain. The word spoken must be treasured 
 up, the counsels of wisdom must be made to 
 abide in the heart, the instructions and 
 warnings of Heaven must be fixed by reflec- 
 tion and thought, or the impressions you have 
 received will be transitory, and the good 
 purposes which spring up within you will pass 
 away like the early dew. If the preacher 
 have presented arguments for the truth of 
 Christianity, or for the support of any of its 
 great doctrines, of what use has this been to 
 you, if you shall know nothing about them 
 to-morrow? And how can you hope to re- 
 member what is so difficult to be retained, if 
 you take no pains to refresh your mind with 
 it by immediate retirement and contempla- 
 tion? If he have been urging you to the 
 study of your own heart, and pointing out the 
 sources of self-deception,' and the means of 
 
preservation against the Nj^T^^luSli^ easily "^ ^ 
 beset you, and you have b€efei;Me«^ JJddv^ 
 humbled, and made to resolve on 'greater 
 watchfulness; of what avail will this be, if 
 you immediately abandon yourself to frivolous 
 topics of thought? and how are you any the 
 better prepared for the temptations and trials 
 of to-morrow, if you thus drive from your 
 mind those views which were to strengthen 
 you? Or, if he have presented to you the 
 elevating truths respecting God, and heaven, 
 and man's prospects of glory, and thus raised 
 in your spirit a glow of divine love, and a 
 sense of your exalted destiny, and you at once 
 turn from it all to employments and thoughts 
 which are wholly of earth ; then is not that 
 holy excitement worse than lost? have you 
 not done something to harden your heart, and 
 render it less capable of receiving the same 
 impression again ? For you have resisted its 
 motions, and quenched its fire, by calling it 
 back to this lower world when it was just be- 
 ginning to delight itself in heaven. 
 
 Depend upon it, that the mere attendance 
 upon public worship is very insufficient, with- 
 out some care to fix its impressions afl:erward, 
 
 M 
 
130 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 and to* recall and strengthen what you have 
 heard and enjoyed. It is wise, therefore, to 
 go back from church to retirement, there to 
 think over the truths that you have heard, 
 refresh the feelings that you have indulged, 
 apply to your conscience the doctrine deliver- 
 ed, and supplicate the divine blessing. By 
 habitually doing this, you will in time become 
 possessed of a large fund of religious informa- 
 tion and moral truth, which otherwise might 
 have been lost to you ; and instead of being 
 in the condition of those, who cannot per- 
 ceive that the pulpit has ever taught them any 
 thing, you will find it a most efficient and per- 
 suasive instructer. 
 
 It is a custom, with some persons, to make 
 a record of the discourses which they have 
 heard, entering in a book the texts and 
 subjects, together with a brief sketch of the 
 train of remark. This is a very commenda- 
 ble and useful custom, provided it be not al- 
 lowed to take off one's thoughts from the 
 duty of self-application, and do not become a 
 mere effort of memory and trial of skill. If 
 this be avoided, the practice will be found 
 useful in many respects. The exercise of 
 
PREACHING. 131 
 
 writing greatly assists that of thinking, and 
 Jiscovers to one whether his ideas are dis- 
 tinct and clear. It enables and compels him 
 to look closely at the subject, so that he 
 cannot dismiss it with the cursory and 
 impatient examination which he might be 
 otherwise tempted to give it. It enables him 
 afterwards to read, with distinctness, the 
 impressions which he received, and to revive 
 the purposes which he formed in consequence 
 of them. His record becomes a spiritual 
 monitor, reminding him, whenever he consults 
 it, of the lessons he has learned, and the 
 expostulations he has heard ; and prompting 
 him to a more definite comparison of his 
 actual attainments with the standard which 
 has been placed before him. The advan- 
 tages, which may thus be derived from it, will 
 be far more than a compensation for all the 
 trouble attending it. 
 
 But, whether you make such memoranda or 
 not, the practice of recalling to mind the 
 instructions and reflections of God's house, 
 if systematically pursued, will save you from 
 the pain of making the complaint which we 
 hear from so many that they cannot remem- 
 
132 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 ber what they have heard, oftentimes not even 
 the text ; and this, too, from persons who can 
 repeat all the particulars of a long story to 
 which they have listened, or a longer con- 
 versation in which they have taken part. 
 Why this difference ? Partly because they 
 attended with greater interest to the story and 
 the conversation, partly because these are 
 more easily remembered than a formal dis- 
 course, but principally because these are 
 matters that they are accustomed to recall to 
 mind and repeat, which they have not been 
 accustomed to do in regard to sermons. The 
 want of practice is the principal difficulty. 
 Make it an object always to remember, and 
 be in the habit of going over again in your 
 mind, the principal topics, and you will not be 
 troubled with want of memory. 
 
 I should do wrong, however, if I did not 
 here speak a word of comfort to those humble 
 and sincere Christians, whose advantages in 
 early life were not such as to enable them 
 to form any habits of intellectual exertion, 
 and who are, in consequence, subject to a 
 weakness of memory which they have strug- 
 gled against in vain, and which is a source 
 
PREACHIN« 133 
 
 of constant unhappiness to them. Every 
 thing they hear from the pulpit slips from 
 their minds, even if it have highly moved and 
 delighted them ; and they fear that this is a 
 sign of unprofitableness and sin. To such it 
 may be well to recommend the reply of John 
 Newton to one who came to him sorrowing 
 with the same complaint. You forget, said 
 he, what was preached to you. So, too, you 
 forget upon what food you dined a week or a 
 month ago ; yet you are none the less sure 
 that you received nourishment from it : and 
 no doubt, also, that your spiritual food nour- 
 ished you, though you have forgotten in what 
 it consisted. So long as you received it with 
 pleasure and a healthy digestion, and it has 
 kept you a living and growing soul, it can 
 be of no consequence whether you can partic- 
 ularly remember it or not. 
 
 Finally, preaching, however ineffectual it 
 may often prove, is one of the chief means of 
 grace, and is capable of being made, by every 
 mdividual, a principal agent in his religious 
 advancement. Let it be so to you. It will 
 be so if you attend on it in a right spirit, and 
 faithfully strive to gain nourishment from it. 
 12 
 
184 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 Do not let it be your shame and guilt, that 
 you sit year after year within hearing of the 
 preacher's voice, and yet are none the better. 
 Do not suffer it to be with yourself, as it is 
 with many, that preaching grows less inter- 
 esting as they advance. This, it is true, is 
 in part owing to the nature of the mind, 
 which finds a delight in what is new and 
 fresh^ which it does not perceive in what has 
 been long familiar. There is a charm in 
 listening to the word preached, when the 
 soul is first awakened to an interest in the 
 concerns of its salvation, and devours every 
 sentence as a hungry man his food, which 
 cannot be fully retained in cooler and ma- 
 turer years. But if the charm be entirely 
 gone, if the relish be altogether lost, it must 
 be through your own fault. It must be 
 because you have not watched over the tastes 
 and susceptibility of your mind, but have, 
 through neglect, suffered it to become hard- 
 ened. Be but faithful to yourself, cherish 
 your tenderness of spirit, take pains to keep 
 alive the ardor and interest of your younger 
 days, and you will find that your feelings will 
 not become wholly dead to the voice of the 
 
PREACHING. 135 
 
 preacher, nor will time and age be able to rob 
 you of this source of your enjoyment. The 
 ancient philosopher, on whom has been well 
 bestowed the title of ' Rome's least mortal 
 mind,' in writing beautifully of old age, tells 
 us, that the great reason why the faculties of 
 men are impaired in the declining years of a 
 long life, is, that they cease to use and exer- 
 cise them ; and that any man, by continuing 
 vigorously to exert them as in earlier life, 
 may hope to retain them to the last, in some- 
 thing of their original power. The remark 
 may be applied to the old age of the Chris- 
 tian. By faithfully watching over and exer- 
 cising his feelings and emotions, he may 
 retain them in some good degree of liveliness 
 and vigor to the latest period. And although 
 the zest with which he hung on the minis- 
 tration of the word, in the first ardor of his 
 youthful faith, may be gone, he will maintain 
 a sober interest, and find a tranquil delight, 
 suited to the serenity of his fading days, and 
 to the peacefulness of the expectation with 
 which he waits the summons to go home. 
 
136 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 V. The Lord's Supper. 
 
 This interesting rite is the last in the series 
 of Christian means which I shall mention. 
 It is that to which the young disciple is 
 accustomed to look forward with intense feel- 
 ing, and the arrival at which constitutes an 
 era in his progress fondly expected and 
 fondly remembered. Sometimes it appears 
 to be regarded too much as the limit of 
 improvement, the goal of the course, the prize 
 of the victory, after which the believer is to 
 sit down and enjoy in security the attainments 
 he has made, exempt from the necessity of 
 further watchfulness and combat. It is 
 owing, in no small degree, to the prevalence 
 of this opinion, that so many make no actual 
 or perceptible progress after their arrival at 
 the Lord's table. They esteem it less as the 
 means and incitement of greater improvement, 
 than as the end and completion of the work 
 they had undertaken ; not so much a refresh- 
 ment to their weakness in the trying journey 
 of duty, as the festival which rewards its 
 termination. Be on your guard against this 
 erroneous feeling. Habitually rememberj that 
 your vigilance and labor are to end only at 
 
THE LORD^S SUPPER. 137 
 
 the grave ; that the fight lasts as long as life ; 
 that the crown of the victor is Maid up in 
 heaven ; ' and that vi^hatever indulgences may 
 be granted here, they are but as encour- 
 agements to your perseverance and strength- 
 eners to your weakness, designed to cheer 
 and help you on your way; not seasons of 
 repose and enjoyment, but of recollection and 
 preparation ; — so that they, in fact, form a part 
 of that system of discipline, by which every 
 thing below is made to try and prove the 
 character of man. 
 
 In this light you will view the peculiar 
 ordinance of our faith, — as a privilege and 
 indulgence, but also as a pledge and incite-, 
 ment to activity in duty. From the moment 
 that it has been your purpose to become a 
 follower of Christ, you have looked forward 
 to this holy feast as something which it would 
 make you but too blest to be permitted to 
 partake. While occupied with other means 
 of improvement, you have still felt that there 
 was one thing lacking, and have perhaps 
 been stimulated to a more earnest diligence 
 in the use of them, by the reflection that they 
 would prepare you for this ultimate and 
 12* V 
 
138 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 superior enjoyment. Such is the very com- 
 mon experience of the growing Christian ; 
 and it is my wish to show you how that may 
 be rendered a blessing in the enjoyment, 
 which has been so eagerly desired in the 
 anticipation. 
 
 Settle it distinctly in your mind, that this 
 ordinance, so far as relates to your concern in 
 it, has a twofold purpose; first, to express 
 and manifest your faith in Christ, and your 
 allegiance and attachment to him ; secondly; 
 to aid and strengthen you in a faithful 
 adherence to his religion. That is to say, in 
 other words, by your attendance at the Lord's 
 table, you declare yourself to be, from principle 
 and affection, a Christian; and you seek to 
 revive and confirm the sentiments, purposes, 
 and habits, which belong to that character. 
 These are the two objects which the ordi- 
 nance is intended to accomplish, and which 
 you are to have constantly in view. 
 
 By considering the first of these, you will 
 be enabled to decide how soon, and at what 
 period, you ought to offer yourself for this 
 celebration. Can you say, that you are in 
 principle and affection a follower of Jesus 
 
THE lord's supper. 181) 
 
 Christ ? This is the question you are to put 
 to yourself; not whether you have been such 
 for a long time; not how great attainments 
 you have made ; — but are you such at heart, 
 and are you resolved perseveringly to main- 
 tain this character? Look at this ques- 
 tion. Ponder its meaning. Put it to your- 
 self faithfully. Do nothing with haste or 
 rashness, but proceed calmly and deliberate- 
 ly. Then, if you can conscientiously reply 
 in the affirmative, if you have already showed 
 so much constancy in your efforts, that you 
 may rationally hope to persevere, you may 
 make your profession before men, and take 
 the promised blessing. Hasty minds have 
 sometimes rushed forward too soon, and only 
 exposed their own instability, and brought dis- 
 honor on their calling. Be not, therefore, has- 
 ty. But timid men have sometimes hesitated 
 too long ; have delayed till their ardor cooled, 
 till they fancied they could stand and flourish 
 without any further help, till death or age over- 
 took them, and they were called to meet their 
 Lord without having confessed him before men. 
 Beware, therefore, that you delay not too long. 
 To deliberate whether we shall observe a com- 
 
140 MEANS OP RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 mandment, after our minds are impressed 
 with a sense of the duty of doing so, is to 
 break it. To postpone our acceptance of a 
 privilege, when we feel that it is such, and 
 know that it is offered to ourselves, is to re- 
 fuse it, and to forego its benefits. He who 
 believes, and is resolved to live and die in his 
 belief, has a right to this ordinance ; he is 
 under his Master's orders to attend it; and 
 he should reflect, that obedience, to be ac- 
 ceptable, should be prompt. 
 
 As soon, therefore, as your attention to re- 
 ligious things has sufficiently prepared and 
 settled your mind, you will solemnly acknowl- 
 edge it by this outward testimonial of faith. 
 So far the ordinance looks to the past. It 
 also looks to the future ; and you will, sec- 
 ondly, as I said, use it as a salutary means of 
 religious growth, appointed to this end, and 
 singularly suited to accomplish it. You will 
 regard it, and attend it, as one of the appropri- 
 ate instruments by which you are to keep 
 alive, and carry on to perfection, that principle 
 of spiritual life, which has had birth within 
 you, and which has made a certain progress 
 toward maturity. 
 
THE lord's supper. 141 
 
 It is a means singularly fitted to accomplish 
 this end, because it is an ordinance at once 
 so affecting and so comprehensive : — affecting, 
 by bringing directly before us, in one collect- 
 ed view, the circumstances under which it 
 was instituted, and the purposes of Heaven 
 with which it is connected ; — the trials and 
 sufferings of the Son of man, the meekness 
 and sublimity of his submission, the tender- 
 ness and pathos of his last conversation and 
 prayers, the desertion in which he was left by 
 his disciples, the insults to which he was ex- 
 posed from his enemies, the torture in which 
 he died, submissive and forgiving; and all 
 this, that he might seal the truth which he had 
 taught, and provide salvation for miserable 
 men. It is true that all this is familiar to the 
 mind, and often brought before it in other act^ 
 of worship. But here it forms the express 
 subject of contemplation and prayer. Here it 
 is set before us more evidently and vividly by 
 the circumstances, the forms, the apparatus of 
 the occasion. It is made the special object 
 of regard, and therefore is suited , in a pecu- 
 liar manner, to affect us. 
 
 It has another advantage. It is as compre- 
 
142 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 heiisive as it is affecting. In its primitive in- 
 tention, in its simple purpose, it is, as it was 
 designated by our Lord himself, a commemo- 
 ration of him : * This do in remembrance of 
 me.' And what is it to remember Jesus, 
 rightly and effectually, but to call to mind all 
 that he was, and did, and suffered, in his 
 own person ; and all the blessings, advantages, 
 and hopes, which have resulted to us, and 
 shall forever result, from his ministry and 
 death ? These are all connected together by 
 one close and indissoluble chain. They are 
 united, in inseparable union, with his name 
 and memory. When we reflect on our Mas- 
 ter, our minds cannot pause till they have 
 gone over all his example in life and death, 
 have recalled his character and instructions, 
 have pondered on the excellence and beauty 
 of his truths, the glory of his promises, the 
 bliss of his inheritance. Thence they will pass 
 on to survey the effects which he has ali-eady 
 produced on the condition and character of the 
 world, to observe the contrast of our present 
 enviable lot with what it would have been if 
 he had not established his reign among men, 
 and to contemplate the spreading prospects of 
 
THE lord's supper. 143 
 
 human felicity in the wider extension of his 
 kingdom ; — the removal of error, corruption, 
 ignorance, and sin, and the establishment of 
 universal truth, righteousness, knowledge, and 
 peace. Thence they will pass on to a future 
 world : to the unseen and unimaginable joys 
 of a life in which purity, love, and happiness, 
 shall be infinite in measure, and infinite in 
 duration, and where man, made the compan- 
 ion of angels, freed from sin and from suffer- 
 ing, shall dwell in the light of God's presence 
 without end. We shall recollect, that for all 
 our hope of acceptance to that world, and of 
 pardon for the sins which have made us un- 
 worthy of it ; for all those gifts of light and 
 strength which shall prepare us for it ; for all 
 the tranquillity, consolation, and support, 
 which, in weakness, sorrow, and death, the 
 knowledge of our immortality imparts, — for 
 these we are indebted to Jesus Christ , 
 without whom we should still have remained 
 ignorant on this first of subjects, and uncon- 
 soled in the severest trials. So that, in one 
 word, there is no topic of religion, none of 
 thanksgiving or prayer, none of penitence, 
 gratitude or hope, none of present or of 
 
144 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT 
 
 future felicity for ourselves or for others, 
 which is not called up to the mind by the 
 faithful use of this simple but expressive 
 service. As the believer sits at his Master's 
 table, he seems to himself to be sitting in his 
 presence ; together with his image, every 
 blessing of his faith and hope rises brightly to 
 view; and his heart burns within him, as he 
 contemplates the grace with which his 
 unworthy spirit has been visited, and realizes 
 the hope that he shall partake of the glories 
 which his Lord revealed. As he looks unto 
 him, * the Author and Finisher of our faith, 
 who, for the joy set before him, endured the 
 cross, despising the shame,' he grows strong 
 to do and endure likewise ; animated by the 
 hope set before him of entering into the joy to 
 which his crucified Master has ascended. 
 
 Is it not, then, evident, that you have here a 
 means of singular power, to keep the atten- 
 tion awake and the heart right ; and that your 
 spirit can hardly slumber, if you faithfully 
 open it to the influences of this observance 1 
 Remember, however, that itr value will de- 
 pend on yourself, and the manner in which 
 you engage in it. It has no mystical charm, 
 
THE lord's supper. 145 
 
 no secret and magic power, to bless you 
 against your will. Every thing depends on 
 your own sincerity and devotion. Earnestly 
 desire, and pray, and endeavor that it may 
 do you good, and it will do you good. Go to 
 it heedless, thoughtless, and unprepared, and 
 it will prove to you an idle and inefficient 
 ceremony. The great cause why so many 
 derive no improvement from the repeated per- 
 formance of the duty, is, that they attend it 
 with inconsideration and coldness, and with 
 little purpose or desire of being affected by it. 
 Let your attendance be in a different state 
 of mind. Engage resolutely in the suitable 
 meditations ; examine yourself before and 
 after ; come to the celebration with a temper 
 prepared for worship, and leave it with one 
 prepared for duty. 
 
 There is a peculiar feature in the mode 
 of administering this ordinance, distinguish- 
 ing it from all other acts of social worship, 
 to which it may be well to advert. I refer to 
 the pauses during its administration, when 
 each worshipper is lefl to himself, to follow 
 his own reflections, and make his own pray- 
 ers There are thus united in the occasion 
 13 
 
146 MEANS OF RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 some of the advantages both of social and 
 of private devotion. When you have been 
 excited by the voice of the minister and of 
 general prayer, you are permitted to retire, 
 without interference, into your own heart, to 
 repeat the petitions and confessions with a 
 more close reference to your own case, and to 
 make yourself certain that you understand 
 and feel the service in which you are engaged. 
 You may find a great advantage in these si- 
 lent intervals. In all other instances of social 
 worship, your attention is required, without 
 ceasing, to some external process ; and you 
 pass on from one part of the service to 
 another, with little opportunity to reflect, as 
 you proceed, or to pursue the suggestions 
 which are made, in the manner that your own 
 peculiar condition may require. But in this, 
 the leisure is given for thoroughly applying 
 to your own personal state all that has met 
 your ear, and for pouring out freely the devo- 
 tional feeling which has been excited. And if 
 there be any thing favorable to the soul, as 
 multitudes of devout persons have insisted, in 
 occasions for contemplative worship in the 
 presence of other men, then, in this respect, the 
 
THE lord's supper. 147 
 
 Lord's supper may claim a superiority over 
 every other season of social devotion. 
 
 Many persons, I am aware, find it difficult 
 so to control their minds as to render these 
 silent moments profitable. But to such per- 
 sons the very difficulty becomes a usefiil disci- 
 pline, and the occasion should be valued for 
 the sake of it. To aid them in the use of it, 
 and to prevent its running to waste in misera- 
 ble listlessness and idle rovings of the mind, 
 it might be well that they should have with 
 them some suitable little book of meduations 
 and reflections, which they may quietly consult 
 in their seats as guides to thought and devo- 
 tion. 
 
 In a word, prepare your mind beforehand, 
 be faithful during the celebration, review it 
 when it is past ; and you will never have rea- 
 son to complain of its inefficacy as a means 
 of religious improvement. You may not enjoy 
 high and mystical raptures ; you may be some- 
 times overtaken with languor and coldness; 
 but as long as, in smcerity, and from motives 
 of duty, you present yourself in this way be- 
 fore the Lord, you will find that there is re- 
 freshment and encouragement in the act. 
 
J 48 MEANS OP RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 You will have in it satisfaction, if not ecstasy ; 
 and will never doubt that something of the 
 steadfastness of your principle, and of the 
 vigor of your hope, is owing to this affectionate 
 application of the life, example and sacrifice 
 of the Saviour, in the way of his appoint- 
 ment 
 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 149 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE RELIGIOUS DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 
 
 Next to the means to be employed m the 
 promotion of personal religion, we must at- 
 tend to the oversight and direction of the 
 character in general. The means of which 
 we have taken notice, consist of a series of 
 special and stated exercises, whose object is 
 to prepare us for the right conduct of actual 
 life ; and they may be compared to the daily 
 drill of the soldier, by which he is made 
 ready for the field. Watchfulness and self- 
 discipline belong to all times and occasions, 
 "and may be compared to the actual use which 
 the soldier makes of his preparation in the 
 camp and the field. The Christian is en- 
 gaged occasionally in prayer, meditation, 
 study, and the communion ; he must watch 
 and govern himself always. To the former 
 duties he devotes certain appropriate seasons ; 
 the latter belong to every season and all hours. 
 The former constitute his preparation for the 
 13* 
 
150 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 
 
 Christian life; the latter constitute its pervad 
 ing spirit. No punctuality or fidelity in the 
 former proves a man to be religious without 
 the latter. And therefore, having stated the 
 manner in which these means are to be used, 
 it is necessary for us to go on and show how 
 they are to affect the whole conduct of life, and 
 make it an exercise of perpetual self-discipline. 
 Why you are to be always watchful over 
 yourself, is easily perceived. In this world 
 of sensible objects and temporal pursuits, you 
 are constantly exposed to have your thoughts 
 absorbed by surrounding things, and with- 
 drawn from the spiritual objects to which 
 they should be primarily attached. You are 
 incited to forget them, to slight them, to 
 counteract them. The engagements, the 
 anxiety, hurry, and pleasures of life, thrust 
 them from your thoughts; and desires, pro- 
 pensities, passions, are excited quite inconsist- 
 ent with the calm and heavenward affections 
 of Christ. All these tendencies in your situa- 
 tion are to be resisted. You are to be ever on 
 the alert, that they may not lead you into any 
 course of thought or of action at variance 
 with the principles to which you are pledged 
 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 151 
 
 as a believer in Jesus Christ, and which form 
 your delight in your hours of devotional enjoy- 
 ment. Such inconsistency may be sometimes 
 witnessed. But what can be more melan- 
 choly than to see a rational being, deeply 
 convinced of the truths of religion, in his 
 sober hours of thought dwelling on them with 
 fond and delighted contemplation, excited by 
 them to a devout ardor of communion with 
 God, and sometimes to a glow of holy rapture 
 which seems to belong to a superior nature ; — 
 and then sinking into worldliness, governing 
 himself in ordinary life by selfish maxims of 
 temporal interest, obeying the passions and 
 propensities of his animal being, and, in a 
 word, living precisely as he would do, did he 
 believe that there is nothing higher or better 
 than this poor life ? I ask, what can be more 
 sad or pitiable than such a spectacle ? Let it 
 be your earnest care to guard against so de- 
 plorable an inconsistency. Now, while your 
 mind is warm with its early interest in divine 
 things, — now, while they press upon you in 
 all their freshness, — now, take heed that you 
 do not concentrate that interest, and use all 
 its strength, in the luxury of devout musing, 
 
152 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 
 
 or the excitements of study and devotion ; but 
 carry it into your whole life ; let it be always 
 present to you in all you do, in all you say; 
 let it form your habitual state of feeling, your 
 customary frame of mind and temper. Make 
 it your constant study that nothing shall be 
 inconsistent with it, but every thing partake 
 of its power. This is the watchfulness in 
 which you must live. This is the purpose 
 for which you must exercise over yourself 
 an unremitting and ever-wakeful discipline; 
 seeing to it, like some magistrate over a city, 
 or some commander over an army, that all 
 your thoughts, dispositions, words and actions 
 be subject to the law of God, and the princi- 
 ples of the Christian faith. 
 
 Thus it is plain, that your chief business, 
 as well as your great trial, in forming a 
 Christian character, lies in the ordinary tenor 
 of life. The world is the theatre on which 
 you are to prove yourself a Christian. It is 
 / in the occurrences of every day, in the rela- 
 ' lions of every hour, in your affairs, in your 
 family, in your conversation with those around 
 you, in your treatment of them, and your 
 reception of their treatment; — it is in these 
 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 153 
 
 that you are to cultivate and perfect the 
 character of a child of God. It is in these 
 that your passions are exercised, and your 
 government of them proved ; in these that 
 your command over that unruly member, the 
 tongue, is made known ; in these that temp- 
 tations to wrong doing and evil speaking 
 beset you, and that you are to apply your 
 religious principle in resisting them.' In 
 these it is, consequently, that you discover 
 whether your principle is real and genuine, or 
 whether it lies only in feeling and in words. 
 In the quiet of your chamber, in the devout 
 solitude of your closet, when the world is shut 
 out, and your solemnized spirit feels itself 
 alone with God, you may be so exalted by 
 communion with Heaven, and by meditation 
 on heavenly truth, that all things earthly shall 
 seem worthless and paltry, and every desire be 
 set upon things above. How often, at such 
 times, does it appear as if the world had no 
 longer any charms, as if its pleasures and 
 pomp could never again entice or delight us ! 
 Our souls are above them. We have no more 
 relish for them than have the angels. And 
 if this were all which is required of us, if 
 o 
 
154 THE DISCIPLINE OP LIFE. 
 
 nothing opposed to this delightful frame of 
 mind were ever to cross our path, the Chris- 
 tian prize would be already won. But, alas ! 
 m the closet, and in the third heaven of 
 contemplation, we can live but a small portion 
 of the time. We must come down from the 
 mount. We must enter the crowd and 
 distractions of common life. We must en- 
 gage in common and secular affairs. And 
 there, how much do we ei\counter that is 
 opposed to the calm and serene spirit of our 
 contemplative hours! how much to irritate 
 and disturb our quiet self-possession ! how 
 much to drive from our thoughts the subjects 
 on which we have been musing ! how much 
 to revive the relish for transient pleasures and 
 worldly enjoyments, and a love for the things 
 which minister gratification to pride and to 
 the senses! In the midst of these things, 
 dangerous, enticing, seductive, you are to 
 live and walk unchanged, unseduced, unde- 
 filed ; your heart true to its Master, your 
 spirit firm in its allegiance to God, and your 
 soul as truly devout and humble as when 
 worshipping at the altar. Is this easy? I 
 will not ask ; but is it not your great, your 
 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 155 
 
 paramount, trial? Is it not here, that the A 
 very battle of your soul's salvation is to be \j\ 
 Fought ? Is not this, as I said, the very field ' ^ 
 of actual and decisive war, the very seat of the 
 fearful and final campaign ? And the prayers 
 and studies, and observances of your more 
 special devotion, are they not the buckling 
 on of the armor, and the refreshing and 
 preparing of the soul for its real combat ? 
 
 You perceive, tJien, how the Christian life 
 must consist in watchfulness and self-disci- 
 pline; how it must be your great business 
 to keep a faithful guard over yourself, that, 
 both in mind and conduct, nothing miy exist 
 contrary to the spirit and precepts of Jesus 
 Christ. 
 
 First of all, this guard is to be placed upon 
 the Mind. It is an intellectual, internal, 
 spiritual discipline ; the oversight and man- 
 agement of the thoughts and affections. 
 
 There is a superficial religion, not unpopu- 
 lar in the world, which is limited to the out- 
 ward conduct and the external relations of 
 life; which is made to consist exclusively in 
 rectitude of behavior and uprightness of 
 dealing. Into this error you are not likely to 
 
156 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 
 
 fall, i' you learn your religion from the New 
 Testament ; and I should not have thought it 
 needful to warn you against it, had it not been 
 so prevalent. Nothing but its commonness 
 could render it credible, that men, who pos- 
 sess the Scriptures, and fancy they understand 
 them, or who are simply capable of obser- 
 vation on the nature of man and of happiness, 
 should persuade themselves that the character 
 which God demands and will bless, is inde- 
 pendent of the state of the mind and the frame 
 of the affections. Is it not the mind which 
 constitutes the man? Is it not the mind 
 which gives its moral complexion to the con- 
 duct? Is it not certain, that the same 
 conduct which we applaud as indicating an 
 upright character, we should disapprove and 
 condemn, on discovering that it proceeded 
 from base and improper motives? So that 
 even men judge of character rather by the 
 principle which actuates, than by the actions 
 themselves. How much more completely 
 would this be the case, if, instead of being 
 obliged to infer the principle from the act, 
 they could discern the principle itself as it 
 lies in the mind of the agent ! Who, in that 
 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 157 
 
 case, would ever judge a man by his actions 
 alone? Who would not always decide re- 
 specting his character from the principles and 
 motives which guided him, — his thoughts, 
 dispositions, and habitual temper? And thus 
 it is that the Deity judges and decides. He 
 looks not on the outward appearance, but on 
 the heart. Consequently, how obvious is the 
 position, that, in seeking the Christian char- 
 acter, the first and most diligent watch must 
 be placed over the inner man ! * Keep thy 
 HEART with all diligence ; for out of it are the 
 issues of life.' 
 
 This implies several things. First, a care- 
 ful guard over the Thoughts. It is in the 
 heedless disregard of the thoughts that 
 corruption often takes its rise. They are 
 suffered to wander without restraint, to attach 
 themselves without check to any objects 
 which attract the senses, or are suggested in 
 conversation, and to rove uncontrolled from 
 one end of the world to another. How many 
 hours are thus wasted in unprofitable musing, 
 which leaves no impression behind ! How 
 much of life is made an absolute blank ! 
 Worse still, how often do sinful fancies, sen- 
 14 
 
158 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 
 
 sual images, unlawful desires, take advantage 
 of this negligence to insinuate themselves into 
 the mind, and make to themselves a home 
 there, polluting the chambers of the soul, 
 and rendering purity unwelcome ! This is 
 the beginning of evil with many a one, who, 
 from this want of vigilance over the course 
 of his thoughts, has surrendered himself to 
 frivolity and sensuality, without being aware 
 that he was in peril. Thoughtlessness, mere 
 thoughtlessness, has left the door open to sin, 
 and the same thoughtlessness prevents the 
 detection of the intruder. 
 
 You may fancy that your present prefer- 
 ence for profitable subjects of thought, is such 
 that you are in no danger from this source. 
 But beware of trusting to any present dispo- 
 sition. If you become confident, you will 
 fall; and the rather, because the beginning 
 of this peril is so subtle and sly. Believe that 
 the danger is real and imminent, or it is 
 scarcely possible that you should not suffer 
 from it. You may not, indeed, fall a victim to 
 irregular desires and hurtful immoralities; 
 but the habit of unwatched thought will 
 weaken your control over your mind, will 
 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 159 
 
 diminish your power of self-government, and 
 rob you of that vigorous self-possession, alive 
 to every occasion, and prompt at every call, 
 which forms the decision of character that 
 ought to belong to him who professes to 
 follow the energetic principles of Christian 
 morality. So that, if you would be saved from 
 an unbecoming weakness of mind, and its 
 possible, not to say probable, consequences, 
 ungoverned desires and passions, keep a 
 guard upon your thoughts. Let your morn- 
 ing and evening prayer be, that you may live 
 thoughtfully. And when, in the business of 
 the day, your hands are occupied, but your 
 mind free to think, keep yourself attentive 
 to your thoughts. Inquire frequently how 
 they are engaged. Direct them to useful and 
 innocent subjects. Think over the books 
 you have been reading ; rehearse to yourself 
 the knowledge you have gained; call up the 
 sermons you have heard ; repeat the passages 
 of scripture you know. By methods like 
 these, take care that even your empty hours 
 minister to your improvement. Paley has 
 truly observed, that every man has some 
 favorite subject, to which his mind spontano 
 
160 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 
 
 ously turns at every interval of leisure ; and 
 that with the devout man the subject is God. 
 Hence the vtratching over your thoughts 
 furnishes you vi^ith a ready test of your reli- 
 gious condition; it exposes to you the first 
 and faintest symptoms of religious decline, 
 and enables you to apply an immediate 
 remedy. 
 
 If the thoughts, which may be expressed in 
 words, are to be thus guarded, the Temper 
 and Feelings, which are often so indefinable 
 in language, require a no less anxious guar- 
 dianship. In the perplexities and trials of 
 daily life, in the conflict with the various tem- 
 pers and frequently perverse dispositions of 
 those around us, in the little crosses, the petty 
 disappointments, the trifling ills which are our 
 perpetual lot, we are exposed to lose that calm 
 equanimity of mind which the Christian 
 shoula habitually possess. We are liable to 
 be rufl3ed and irritated, and to feel and display 
 another spirit than that gentleness which 
 * bears all things and is not easily provoked.' 
 The selfishness of some, the obstinacy of oth- 
 er, tne pride of our neighbor, the heedlessness 
 of our children, and the unfaithfulness of our 
 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 161 
 
 dependents, tire our patience, and disturb oui 
 self-possession ; while bodily infirmity and dis- 
 ordered nerves magnify insignificant inconve- 
 niences into serious evils, and irritate to peev- 
 ishness and discontent the temper which duty 
 calls to cheerfulness and submission. Some 
 are blessed with a native quietness of temper- 
 ament which hardly feels these hourly vexa- 
 tions. But of some they form the great trial, 
 and peculiar cross ; they can bear any thing 
 better. And to all persons they constitute an 
 exposure full of hazard, and demanding cau- 
 tious vigilance. The very spirit and essen- 
 tial traits of the Christian character require 
 watchfulness against them, and imply conquest 
 over them. The humility, meekness, forbear- 
 ance, gentleness, and love of peace ; the long- 
 suffering, the patience, the serenity, which 
 form so lovely a combination, which portray a 
 character that no one can fail to admire and 
 love ; — these are to be maintained only by 
 much and persevering watchfulness. 
 
 Without this, the most equable disposition 
 
 by nature may become irritable and unhappy. 
 
 With it, under the authority and guidance of 
 
 Christian faith, the most unfortunate natural 
 
 14* r 
 
162 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 
 
 temper is subdued to the gentleness of the 
 lamb. Without it, the internal condition of 
 man is restless, rebellious, full of wretched- 
 ness, having no peace in itself, and enjoying 
 nothing around. With it, the aspect of the 
 world becomes changed ; every thing is bear- 
 able, if not pleasant ; the sweet light which 
 beams within, shines on all without, making 
 pleasant the aspect of all men, and smoothing 
 the roughnesses of all affairs. Who does not 
 know how much the events of life take their 
 hue from the state of the disposition ? To the 
 proud, suspicious, and jealous, every man 
 seems an intruder, every gesture an insult, 
 and every event a cause of vexation and wrath. 
 To the self-governed and amiable, every thing 
 is tolerable, and he feels nothing of the incon- 
 veniences which make the misery of the oth- 
 er. One's happiness, therefore, as well as 
 duty, requires this control of the disposition. 
 And when the Saviour pronounced his bene- 
 diction on the pure, peaceful, humble-minded, 
 and meek, he taught, not only the great re- 
 quisite of his spiritual kingdom, but the great 
 secret of human felicity. 
 
 When the frame of your mind is thus a con- 
 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 163 
 
 Btant care, you will find little difficulty in the 
 control of the Appetites. These things are 
 connected together ; and, an ascendency over 
 the former being secured, the subjection of 
 the latter easily follows. But take good heed 
 that it does follow. Do not be thoughtless 
 about it, because you fancy that it will of 
 course accompany a regulated mind. Other- 
 wise it is here that corruption may begin. 
 The enemy will enter at any place, however 
 improbable, which shall be left unguarded. 
 And it only needs that the body become dis- 
 ordered through the immoderate indulgence 
 of the appetites, to raise a rebellion through- 
 out the whole moral system; or, to speak 
 more plainly, this indulgence will create 
 cloudiness of mind, indisposition to thought, 
 activity, and duty, irritability of temper, slug- 
 gishness of devotional feeling, and at length a 
 general spiritual lethargy. There can be little 
 doubt, that much of our dullness of apprehen- 
 sion and deadness of feeling on spiritual topics, 
 as well as our strange sensibility to minor tri- 
 als, is owing to a derangement of the animal 
 economy, which is again owing to want of 
 moderation in gratifying our animal desires. 
 
i64 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 
 
 Hence there was some reason in the absti- 
 nence and fastings of religious men in ancient 
 times ; and if we valued sufficiently, what they 
 perhaps valued super stitiously, — serenity and 
 brightness of mind, an equal temper, and a 
 perpetual aptitude for spiritual contemplation, — 
 we should imitate them more, if not in their 
 fastings, yet certainly in their temperance. 
 At any rate, * let your moderation be known 
 unto all men.* For temperance is not only 
 the observance of an express injunction, but is 
 essential to that quietness and self-control 
 which should mark the religious character. 
 
 The next exercise of self-discipline will be 
 in Conversation. Conversation, while it is a 
 chief source of improvement and pleasure, is 
 also a scene of peculiar trial, and the occasion 
 of much sin. One might suppose that few 
 persons ever dream that they are accountable 
 for what passes in conversation, although 
 there is no point of ordinary life which Jesus 
 and the Apostles have more frequently and 
 sternly put under the control of religious prin- 
 ciple. Their language is strikingly urgent on 
 this head ; and yet, so little scrupulousness is 
 there among men, even religious men, that it , 
 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE 165 
 
 would seem as if they felt ashamed to be care- 
 ful in their talk. A thoroughly well-governed 
 speech is so rare, that we still say, in the words 
 of James, * If any man offend not in word, the 
 same is a perfect man.' 
 
 Do not allow yourself to be off your guard 
 in this respect. Make it a part of your busi- 
 ness, by a cautious prudence, to have your 
 speech consistent with the rest of your charac- 
 ter. Do not flatter yourself that your thoughts 
 are under due control, your desires properly 
 regulated, or your dispositions subject as they 
 should be to Christian principle, if your inter- 
 course with others consists mainly of frivolous 
 gossip, impertinent anecdotes, speculations on 
 the character and affairs of your neighbors, 
 the repetition of former conversations, or a 
 discussion of the current petty scandal of so- 
 ciety; much less, if you allow yourself in 
 careless exaggeration on all these points, and 
 that grievous inattention to exact truth which 
 is apt to attend the statements of those whose 
 conversation is made up of these materials. 
 Give no countenance to this lamentable depar- 
 ture from charity and veracity, which it is 
 mortifying to observe commonly marks the 
 
166 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 
 
 every-day gossip of the world. Let precision 
 in every statement distinguish what you say, 
 remembering that a little lie, or a little unchar- 
 itableness, is no better than a little theft. Be 
 slow to speak those reports to another's disad- 
 vantage, which find so ready a circulation and 
 are so eagerly believed, though every day's ex- 
 perience shows us that a large proportion of 
 them are unfounded and false. In a word, 
 be convinced that levity, uncharitableness, and 
 falsehood, are as truly immoral and irreligious 
 in the common intercourse of life, as on its 
 more solemn occasions ; that idle and injuri- 
 ous words make a part of man's responsible 
 character, as really as blasphemy and idolatry ; 
 and that ' if any man seem to be religious, 
 and bridle not his tongue, that man's religion 
 is vain.' , 
 
 ' A word spoken in season, how good it is !' 
 Why should you not do all in your power to 
 elevate the tone of conversation, and render 
 the intercourse of man with man more ra- 
 tional and profitable ?/' Let your example of 
 cheerful, innocent, blameless words, in which 
 neither folly nor austerity shall find place, ex- 
 hibit the uprightness and purity of a mind 
 
 I 
 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 
 
 167 
 
 controlled by habitual principle, and be a 
 recommendation of the religion you profess. 
 Let the authority of that faith to which you 
 subject every other department of your charac- 
 ter, be extrended to those moments, not the 
 least important, in which you exercise the pe- 
 culiar capacity of a rational being in the 
 interchange of thought. Never let it be said 
 of your tongue, which Watts has truly called 
 * the glory af our frame,' that with it you bless 
 God, and at the same time make its habitual 
 carelessness a curse to men, who are formed 
 in the similitude of God. 
 
 The influence of the principle which rules 
 within, should thus be seen in all your deport- 
 ment and intercourse, on every occasion and 
 in every relation. Your outward life should 
 be but the manifestation and expression of the 
 temper which prevails within, the acting-out 
 of the sentiments which abide there; so that 
 all who see you may understand, without your 
 saying it in words, how supreme with you is 
 the authority of conscience, how reverent your 
 attachment to truth, how sacred your adher- 
 ence to duty ; how full of good- will to men, 
 and how devoutly submissive to God, the 
 
 y 
 
168 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 
 
 habitual tenor of your mind. Your spontane- 
 ous, unconstrained action, flowing without effort 
 from your feelings, amid the events of every 
 day, should be the unavoidable expression of 
 a spirit imbued with high and heavenward 
 desires ; so that, as in the case of the Apostles, 
 those who saw them ^ took knowledge of them 
 that they had been with Jesus,' it may in like 
 manner be obvious that you have learned of 
 that holy Teacher. And this may be without 
 any obtrusive display on your part, without 
 asking for observation, without either saying 
 ^ or hinting, * Come, see my zeal for the Lord.' 
 / The reign of a good principle in the soul car- 
 ries its own evidence in the life, just as that of 
 a good government is visible on the face of 
 society./ A man of a disinterested and pious 
 mind bears the signature of it in his whole 
 'deportment. His Lord's mark is on his fore- 
 head. We may say of his inward principle, 
 which an Apostle has called * Christ formed 
 within us,' as was said of Christ himself dur- 
 ing his beneficent ministry ; — It * cannot be 
 hid.' There is an atmosphere of excellence 
 about such a man, which gives savor of his 
 goodness to all who approach, and through 
 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 169 
 
 which the internal light of his soul beams out 
 upon all observers. Consequently, if you al- 
 low yourself in a deportment inconsistent with 
 Christian uprightness, propriety, and charity, 
 you are guilty of bringing contradiction and 
 disgrace on the principles which you profess ; 
 you expose yourself to the charge of hypocrit- 
 ically maintaining truths to which you do not 
 conform yourself You dishonor your religion 
 by causing it to appear unequal to that domin- 
 ion over the human character which it claims 
 to exert. All men know that, if ' the salvation 
 reigned within,' it would regulate the move- 
 ments of the life as surely as the internal mo- 
 tions of the watch are indicated on its face; 
 if the hands point wrong, they know, without 
 looking further, that there is disorder within. 
 That disorder they will attribute either to the 
 incapacity of the principle, or to your unfaithful- 
 ness in applying it. But, what is of far great- 
 er importance, the holy and unerring judg- 
 ment of God will ascribe it to the single cause 
 of your own unfaithfulness; and for all your 
 wanderings from Christian constancy, and all 
 the consequent dishonor to the Christian 
 15 
 
170 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 
 
 name, you must bear the shame and reproach 
 in the final day of account. 
 
 You perceive how urgent is the call for per- 
 petual watchfulness and rigid self-discipline. 
 It is not easy, with much intentional guard 
 over yourself, to keep the spirit habitually 
 right in this giddy and tempting world ; and it 
 is equally difficult to maintain a perfect coinci- 
 dence between the principle within and the 
 deportment of daily life. Oftentimes, in the 
 emergencies and hurry of business, pleasure, 
 and society, where many things concur to 
 drown the voice of the spirit within, we find 
 the lower propensities of our nature gaining an 
 ascendency, and the law in our members ris- 
 ing in rebellion against the law in our mind. 
 * The things that we would, we do not, and 
 the things that we would not, those we do ;' 
 and sense and passion triumph for the moment 
 over reason and faith. * The flesh lusteth 
 against the spirit, and the spirit against the 
 flesh, and these are contrary the one to the 
 other.' And how shall we gain the victory in 
 this perpetual contest ? * Through our Lord 
 Jesus Christ,' says the Apostle; and the 
 
THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 171 
 
 means thereto are found in his injunction, 
 * Watch and pray, that ye enter not into 
 temptation.' Vigilance over every hour and 
 in every engagement, carrying into them the 
 shield of faith and the whole armor of God ; 
 and prayer, without ceasing, that your soul may 
 be strong to wield them ; — these will secure to 
 you the victory. Sometimes you will find 
 yourself in perplexities and straits, sometimes 
 faltering and irresolute; but never forsaken 
 or cast down, never exposed to temptation 
 which you are unable to bear, or from which 
 there is no way of escape. You may * do all 
 things through Christ who strengtheneth you.' 
 
 I have thus spoken of that religious disci- 
 pline of daily life, in which the Christian 
 character is formed and tried. It will be suf- 
 ficient to add, in conclusion, that your great 
 concern must be with two things, — your prin- 
 ciples and your habits. 
 
 First, you must constantly have an eye to 
 your Principles. Take care that they be kept 
 pure, and that you abide by them. They 
 have been well compared to the compass of 
 the ship, on which if the helmsman keeps a 
 faithful eye, and resolutely steers by it irt 
 
172 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 
 
 spite of the opposition of winds and wa zes, he 
 will find the way to his port ; but by heedless 
 inattention to it, he is sure to go astray, and be 
 blown whither he would not. Be assured that 
 it is only by adherence to principle, in reso- 
 lute defiance of inclination, opposition, present 
 interest, and worldly solicitation, that you 
 can ensure the steady progress of your soul, 
 and its final arrival in heaven. Neglect it, 
 and you are at the mercy of circumstances, 
 tossed helpless on the waters of chance, expos- 
 ed to the buffetings of temptation without the 
 power of resistance, and a sure prey of the 
 destroyer. You must find your safety in the 
 strength of your principle ; and that strength 
 lies in the original power of conscience, and 
 the added authority of the divine word. Here- 
 in is the * still small voice' of Heaven ; and he 
 that will * cover his face' from the world, and 
 obediently listen to it, may become morally 
 omnipotent. 
 
 Secondly, have an eye to your Habits. 
 Add to the authority of principle the vigor and 
 steadfastness of confirmed habit, and your re- 
 ligious character become? almost impregnable 
 to assault. It is in no danger of overthrow, 
 
I 
 
 THE DISCIPLINE OP LIFE. 173 
 
 except from the most cunning assailants in a 
 season of your most culpable negligence. 
 What wisdom and kindness has the Creator 
 displayed in our constitution, that we are able 
 to rear around our virtue the strong bulwark 
 of habit ! It is a defence of the weakest 
 spirit against the strongest trial. Through 
 the power of habits early formed, how many 
 have stood in exposed places, and been unaf- 
 fected by solicitations to sin, beneath which 
 others have fallen, who trusted to their good 
 purposes, but who had never confirmed and in- 
 vigorated them in action ! How often, for ex- 
 ample, has the young man from a retired 
 situation, — educated in the bosom of a vir- 
 tuous family, and under the eye of a watchful 
 father, thence sent forth to the new scenes of 
 a city life, under the protection of good princi- 
 ples and a sincere purpose to do well, — been 
 found weak and wanting in the exposure ; and 
 been carried away headlong by the tide of 
 temptation, because his early habits were suit- 
 ed only for seclusion, and his principles were 
 guarded by none which could secure them 
 against the novel assaults that were made upon 
 them ! While, on the other hand, young men 
 
174 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 
 
 brought up in the midst of these solicitations 
 10 sin, with far less inculcation of principle, are 
 oftentimes enabled, through the mere strength 
 which habit imparts, to resist them all, and 
 live in the midst of them as if they were not. 
 
 It cannot be necessary to multiply exam 
 pies. You well know what a slave man is to 
 his habitual indulgences, and how the custom- 
 ary routine of his life and methods of employ- 
 ment tyrannize over him, and how frequently 
 one strives in vain to free himself from their 
 dominion. The old proverb is every day 
 verified before you, of the skin of the Ethio- 
 pian and the spots of the leopard. But, if 
 thus powerful for evil, habit is no less powerful 
 for good. If in some cases it be stronger than 
 principle, and defy all the expostulations of 
 religion, even when the miserable man is con- 
 vinced that his safety lies in breaking from it; 
 then, when enlisted as the ally of principle, 
 when coupled with faith, and made the fellow- 
 worker of piety, how unspeakable may be its 
 aid toward the security and permanence of 
 virtue ! 
 
 Take heed therefore to your habits. Allow 
 yourself to form none but such as are 
 
THE DISCIPLINE OP LIFE. 175 
 
 innocent, and such as may help your efforts 
 lo~~do well. In *he arrangement of your 
 business, in the oiethods of your household 
 and family, in the disposal of your time, in 
 the choice, seasons, and mode of your recrea- 
 tion, in your love of company, and your se- 
 lection of books, — in these preserve a simple 
 and blameless taste. Do not allov^r any of 
 them to be such as shall offer an obstacle to 
 serious thought, and induce a state of feeling 
 indisposed to religious exercises. Especially 
 do not allow them so to enter the frame and 
 texture of your life, that every effort of virtue 
 and devotion shall be a pitched battle with 
 some cherished inclination, or sturdy habit. 
 This is to increase most unwisely and need- 
 lessly the trials and perils of a religious 
 course. It is to raise up for yourself obstacles 
 and difficulties beyond those which properly 
 belong to your situation. Rather, therefore, 
 arrange every thing in your customary pur- 
 suits and indulgences to favor the grand end 
 of your being ; so that every act of piety and 
 faith shall be coincident with it ; so that little 
 or no effort shall be required to maintain the 
 Eteady order of daily duty ; and, instead of an 
 
176 THE DISCIPLINE OF LIFE. 
 
 opposition, a struggle, a contest, whenever 
 principle asserts its claims, you shall find the 
 ready consent and hearty cooperation of all the 
 habitual preferences, tastes, and occupations, 
 of your life. He in whom this is so, is the 
 happy man. He is the consistent man. He 
 is the man to be congratulated, to be ad- 
 mired, to be imitated. Universal harmony 
 reigns within him ; no oppositions, no jarring 
 contentions, mar his peace. With him, the 
 flesh and the spirit are no longer contrary the 
 one to the other. His duty and his inclina- 
 tion are one. There is no dispute between 
 what he ought to do, and what he wishes to 
 do. But, with one consenting voice, heart 
 and life move on harmoniously, accustomed to 
 and loving the same things. To him the 
 yoke is indeed easy, and the burden light. 
 To him heaven is already begun ; and when 
 at last he shall be welcomed to the joy of his 
 Lord, it will be to a joy which his regulated 
 spirit has already tasted in the labors and 
 pleasures of obedience below. 
 
PROGRESS 
 
 CHKISTIAN LIFE. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1847, bv 
 James Munroe and Comfant, in the Clerk's Office of Jie 
 District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 At the period when Mr. Ware's health 
 began irrecoverably to fail, and just before 
 he was obliged to give up all occupation, he 
 was devoting his hours of leisure to the prep- 
 aration of a sequel to his work on the For- 
 mation of the Christian Character, which he 
 designed to entitle " Progress of the Chris- 
 tian Life." Several chapters only were fin- 
 ished. They are too valuable to be lost, 
 and are here published in the hope that they 
 may be useful. The reader will form by 
 them an idea of what the sequel would have 
 been if its author had lived to finish it. 
 
 C. R. 
 
AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 The following pages are designed as a 
 sequel to the little work on the Formation 
 of the Christian Character, and are supposed 
 to be addressed to the same persons. When 
 one has adopted the Christian faith as his 
 rule of life, and begun in earnest his religious 
 existence, it is still but the commencement 
 of a career in which an indefinite progress is 
 to be made, and which is to continue forever. 
 As long as man is imperfect, there is room 
 for improvement. As long as he is in the 
 flesh, there is occasion for watchfulness and 
 struggling against temptation. There is need 
 that his principles become more and more 
 fixed, his conscience more and more enlight- 
 
8 . author's preface. 
 
 ened and controlling, his passions more thor- 
 oughly obedient to thie law'pf righteousness, 
 and his whole temper and demeanor more 
 steadfastly conformed to the example of 
 Christ. In a word, he is to grow in grace. 
 Advancement is his duty, perfection his aim. 
 It is with regard to this duty of religious 
 progress that I propose to offer a few hints. 
 There are some errors respecting it prevalent 
 among believers, which I would first attempt 
 to rectify ; and then I would explain its true 
 nature and character, remove discourage- 
 ments, and show the means and steps by 
 which it should proceed, and how actual 
 success is to be ascertained. 
 
%(^ OP* THE 
 CO 
 
 CHAPTER 1. PAQB. 
 
 Errors respecting the duty of religious prog- 
 ress noticed and corrected — especially the 
 error that the Christian life, having been 
 begun, is accomplished, 11 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 Errors noticed and corrected — especially the 
 error that the Christian life is not to be taken 
 up expressly — is not to have a marked com- 
 mencement, 27 
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 
 Errors noticed and corrected — especially the 
 error of those who fancy that the Christian 
 life may be sustained without the use of 
 means, 39 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The young Christian put on his guard against 
 the hinderance to progress which arises from 
 disappointment respecting the enjoyment of 
 a religious life, 52 
 
10 CONTENTS. 
 
 V 
 
 CHAPTER V. PAGE. 
 Considerations designed to assist the Christian 
 in the successful use of the means and 
 methods of religious progress, 65 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Maxims on which the expectation of religious 
 progress is to be built, 78 
 
 N. B. The following titles of additional chapters or 
 sections are given in Mr. Ware's manuscript : — 
 
 Hinderances. How Progress manifests itself, and is 
 to be ascertained. Progress in Knowledge, in Self-gov- 
 ernment, in Spirituality of Temper, in Conscientumsnes9 , 
 in Disinterestedness, in Power to resist Temptation. In 
 what sense Perfection is to be expected, SfC. S^c. 
 
PROGRESS 
 
 CHRISTIAN LIFE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 ERRORS RESPECTING THE DUTY OF RELIGIOUS 
 PROGRESS NOTICED AND CORRECTED ES- 
 PECIALLY THE ERROR THAT THE CHRIS- 
 TIAN LIFE, HAVING BEEN BEGUN, IS AC- 
 COMPLISHED. 
 
 Nothing can be plainer than that the 
 Christian character is a thing to be acquired 
 and to be improved; yet it is evident that 
 many do not so regard it. If we may judge 
 from their conduct, the number is not small 
 of those who esteem it something which 
 belongs to them just as the body does, and 
 to be kept alive and in health just like that, 
 
12 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 by living along from day to day, as the cir- 
 cumstances of each day may suggest, but 
 not to be the subject of any special regard. 
 But as to being every day better than the 
 day before, as to being more humble and 
 charitable this year than they were last, it 
 does not enter their mind, it makes no part 
 of their plan. They have been Christians, 
 they say, as long as they can remember ; they 
 always believed in the gospel, and meant to 
 do their duty. But they do not know more 
 about the history and foundation, the nature 
 and purposes, of their religion, nor are they 
 in any respect more devoted. Indeed, when 
 one thinks seriously on the subject, it is a 
 matter of amazement to him to observe how 
 stationary good men are, and how quietly 
 they content themselves with being so. 
 
 It is not so in other matters. We look 
 around us on the community, and we see it 
 in a state of commotion and advancement. 
 Its prosperity is a wonder to us, and that 
 prosperity is progress. Every one is pushing 
 forward. Every one is eager and panting for 
 success. Our young men rise step by step ; 
 they are discontented if they find it other- 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. VS 
 
 wise. Those who began life with nothing 
 are seen in a few years comfortably living 
 with a family around them, — then entering 
 a larger dwelling, supporting a more exten- 
 sive establishment, and in various expenses 
 evincing the advancement they have made. 
 This is common. But meantime — even if 
 they account themselves Christians, and re- 
 member that they have an eternity as well 
 as a family to provide for — they have not 
 dreamed of exhibiting any proportionate ad- 
 vancement of character ; it has not occurred 
 to them that their piety should have grown 
 with their estate; that their charities should 
 have been as much greater than formerly as 
 their income has become larger ; that, as 
 they have been rising in the world, they 
 should have risen also toward heaven. In 
 the eye of the world, they are better dressed 
 and better lodged, and they move in a more 
 fashionable and intellectual circle; but in 
 the eye of God, in their preparation for 
 heaven, they are just where they were. They 
 have contrived to give the soul just food 
 enough to keep it of the same stature — not 
 considering that it was to grow as well as the 
 2 
 
14 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 body — not considering, indeed, that this 
 eager attention to worldly good, and rapid 
 growth in earthly prosperity, have very prob- 
 ably stunted the growth of their characters. 
 
 How salutary might it prove to every one 
 whom Providence has blessed with an in- 
 crease of goods, if, at every enlargement of 
 his style of living, he should devote one day 
 to searching into his spiritual progress, and 
 resolve never to erect a new house, or intro- 
 duce a higher indulgence to his domestic 
 economy, until he could honestly say, that 
 he was as much improved in character as in 
 fortune ! 
 
 But, alas! this is far from being the way of 
 the world. They are satisfied to seem to 
 themselves no worse than they were ; — if 
 they deeply examined themselves, they might 
 discover that they are, in fact, much worse. 
 
 Amid this universal and earnest struggle 
 for the outside life, the inner life is neglected ; 
 and very good men are entirely content to be 
 no better, who could ill brook to be no 
 richer. 
 
 Certainly this indicates a false idea of the 
 true object of life, and a very imperfect ac- 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 15 
 
 quaintance with that religion which they pro- 
 fess to have taken for their guide. I do not 
 treat the question in its reference to mere 
 men of the world. On their principles they 
 are right. With a worldly man, character is 
 of very little consequence. If he be not dis- 
 honest, so as to be in danger of the law, — 
 if he keep a decent reputation for fairness 
 and the social virtues, so as not to hinder his 
 success by becoming obnoxious to others, — 
 what more can he need ? His business is to 
 make his fortune and enjoy himself more and 
 more every year ; and this he can do perfectly 
 well without being a better man. This, 
 therefore, need be no part of his concern. 
 But with those who profess to look beyond 
 the world, to whom the favor of God is of 
 some consequence, as well as the opinion of 
 men, and who soberly believe that virtue is 
 better than wealth, — with such as I am now 
 addressing, — it should be the chief concern. 
 Is it possible that they can have adopted 
 Christ as their Master, and taken his religion 
 as the great guide and blessing of their souls, 
 knowing themselves to be immortal, and yet 
 be satisfied to see their earthly condition pros- 
 
16 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 perous while there are no signs of their 
 souls' prosperity? Surely the last must be 
 their great anxiety and care, or they are 
 strangely false to their principles. There is 
 no incompatibility between the two ; both 
 may advance together ; but to strive only for 
 the earthly is treachery to their principles. 
 Alas ! then, how many such traitors are 
 there ! 
 
 But there is another class. All do not, 
 even in this prosperous community, succeed 
 in their anxious efforts to advance themselves 
 in the world. Many make no progress. 
 They gain no wealth, they never enlarge their 
 means of living and enjoyment, they live on 
 as they began. Perhaps they are content 
 with their lot. Many, it is well known, are 
 perfectly so. They acquiesce in the allot- 
 ment of Providence, and quietly sit down 
 where God has appointed them. But many 
 more have tried to rise, and in vain. Are 
 they satisfied then ? Do they content them- 
 selves? Do they make no effort further? 
 Do they feel no regret, mortification, and 
 longing? Surely not so. Waking and dream- 
 ing, they are haunted by the restless desire 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 17 
 
 and the unquenched hope of reinstating their 
 fortunes. And yet, though they know that 
 their souls are equally far from prosperity, 
 and that they have made no improvement in 
 religious knowledge and virtue, it does not 
 make them uneasy; they are perfectly will- 
 ing it should be so. They are quite content 
 to find themselves no better Christians ; but 
 they cannot bear to find themselves no more 
 wealthy. 
 
 It was a beautiful wish of the disciple 
 whom Jesus loved, when writing to a dear 
 friend, " that he might be in health and pros- 
 per even as his soul prospered.^^ I fear it 
 would be thought a strange wish now, even 
 amongst those who esteem themselves very 
 good disciples. They would not understand 
 how the prosperity of the soul is the first 
 thing. Many, it is to be feared, do not even 
 place it second. Business, money->getting, is 
 first ; their family, second ; religion is post- 
 poned to the third place, at least, and very 
 little honored in that, if we may judge by its 
 advancement in comparison with that of the 
 other two. 
 
 There are undoubtedly other classes to be 
 2*= 
 
18 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 found, besides those whom I have now named. 
 They need not be described. They leave 
 but a small number to be found scattered 
 among us, here and there, as we look around, 
 whose business, aim, object, is the growth of 
 their character, who live for the sake of the 
 soul, and who evidently, markedly, become 
 better men as they advance in life. We 
 would not be cynical in our estimate, but 
 none can look around on society. Christian 
 society, — recollecting with what capacities 
 for goodness men have been endowed, and 
 what inducements to progress toward per- 
 fection are always before them, — without a 
 feeling of amazement,, mortification, and 
 alarm,- at observing how few are growing, or 
 striving to grow, in the virtues of the Chris- 
 tian life. So rare are such instances, that 
 they are looked on, and spoken of, as bright 
 exceptions ; and a measure of goodness which 
 ought to be that of every man, nay, which all 
 acknowledge to be still far short of what the 
 Christian should be, is described, praised, 
 and held forth to imitation as something ex- 
 traordinary — as, indeed, beyond what men 
 in general are expected to attain. " We 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 19 
 
 are not to expect to find others as good as 
 he." 
 
 This defective tone and condition of society 
 is unquestionably a great hinderance to those 
 who are young in religion. It presents to 
 them, on their first entrance to a new princi- 
 ple, instead of examples that stimulate to 
 effort and excellence, and raise still higher 
 their impressions of the purity and spirituality 
 of Christian attainment, specimens of lag- 
 ging, sluggish, moderate virtue, which coun- 
 tenance them in the most indolent exertions 
 for improvement. As they look forward with 
 the glowing mind of youth and the first beat- 
 ings of awakened faith, the Christian life 
 looks to them not only all light and glorious, 
 but of a strict and holy austerity, and a scru- 
 pulous purity which has no part or lot with 
 the ordinary follies of humanity — elevated 
 above the world by a taste which has no 
 pleasure in its perishing pursuits, and a habit 
 of exalted contemplation which dwells amid 
 things unseen and eternal. They begin the 
 race, therefore, with feelings of high aspira- 
 tion. They take their place among the dis- 
 ciples with a romantic and earnest expecta- 
 
20 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 tion of finding in those privileged persons 
 something, they know not what, of a celes- 
 tial temper and beauty : they expect to be 
 incited, cheered, instructed, by the very con- 
 tact, and to find in the atmosphere in which 
 they dwell the radiance and perfume of 
 heaven. And if they could find it so, they 
 would keep alive their own ardor, they would 
 persevere to realize their own exalted con- 
 ceptions. But they find it otherwise. The 
 image which they had conceived in their own 
 minds of what the Christian man ought to be — 
 an image whose features were all drawn from 
 the life and teaching of the Great Master — 
 is not at all realized in the world. Nobody 
 acts up to it. Nobody seems to have it in 
 mind. The common standard is wholly below 
 it ; and these young beginners find them- 
 selves alone, with an idea and purpose of a 
 perfection which the more experienced smile 
 upon as the extravagant dream of youth, which 
 a few more days will show them to be imprac- 
 ticable in such a world as this. Thus the 
 actual state of religious feeling chills the 
 early blossoms of their religious characters ; 
 they find that much less than they had 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 21 
 
 imagined is thought sufficient by the older 
 and wiser disciples, who must know much 
 better than themselves ; that it is by no means 
 requisite to follow Christ so nearly, or wor- 
 ship God so exclusively, as they had fancied ; 
 they discover that, in fact, they have made as 
 great attainments already as the world would 
 bear ; to proceed further would be only to 
 become singular : so they change their pur- 
 pose, and remain where they are ; unwilling 
 to be better than others ; satisfied with a 
 measure which seems to satisfy others, and 
 glad to learn that the great work they had 
 undertaken is so early completed. And thus 
 each generation does its utmost to repress 
 the aspiration of the next, and to keep down 
 the standard of virtuous attainment. 
 
 So powerful is the example of the society 
 around us, and such the influence of prevail- 
 ing notions to modify our own, that few have 
 courage or perseverance to follow the inward 
 suggestion which urges them to rise higher. 
 So that a distinguished minister gave it as 
 his earnest advice to a young friend, not to 
 allow himself to be ordained as pastor of any 
 church in which the standard of life was not 
 
22 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 very strict and high; because, as he urged, 
 all experience shows how almost impossible 
 it is for a young minister to escape con- 
 forming himself to the sentiment around him, 
 and being shaped more or less by the popular 
 mould. If it be thus to be apprehended in 
 the case of one all whose temporal interests 
 urge him, no less than his eternal, to rise to 
 the MARK, how much more must it be so 
 with ordinary men, who are less protected by 
 the circumstances of their position, and the 
 daily duties of their calling ! 
 
 It is, therefore, evidently, one of the first 
 duties of the young Christian to settle it in 
 his mind that he has only commenced a work 
 which is to be going on as long as he shall 
 exist. Every thing in the example and ex- 
 perience of others around him proves how 
 necessary this is, for it proves how easily he 
 may be made to forget it. 
 
 There are also some mistaken notions re- 
 specting religion itself which may lead to the 
 same error ; the idea, namely, which so readily 
 finds a welcome in the mind which is glow- 
 ing with the first happiness of its early faith, 
 that its glow cannot fade away; that things 
 
 J 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 23 
 
 will always appear to the soul just as they do 
 at that divine moment; that the new taste 
 is fixed, and cannot be changed ; that it will 
 take care of itself. Hazardous and unfounded 
 as such a feeling is, it is yet very natural. It 
 'belongs to all strong emotion to have faith in 
 its own perpetuity. The affections always 
 are confident that they never shall change ; 
 and we always fancy that the grief, or love, 
 or indignation, which fills our bosoms now, 
 can never fade from them. When, therefore, 
 we are awake to the vivid consciousness of 
 our spiritual relations, and are overwhelmed 
 with those various and mingling emotions 
 that take possession of the excited spirit, and 
 blend therein all that is awful, tender, joyous, 
 and serene — when we are confident that 
 now, at last, we are tasting the highest gratifi- 
 cation of which human nature is capable, 
 that now, at last, we are in the state in 
 which man ought to be, — a state in which 
 things appear as they are, in their true rela- 
 tions and proportions, and the common things 
 of the world take rank among the insignifi- 
 cant and uninteresting, — we cannot doubt 
 that these, the truest, will be the lasting feel- 
 ings ; we cannot conceive it possible that 
 
24 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 any thing on earth should ever have charm 
 enough to entice from this state ; that any of 
 the things which we now know to be inferior 
 should ever be able to withdraw us from what 
 we now know to be supreme. This is the 
 hearty, honest, deeply-seated conviction within 
 us. This is the conviction which occasions 
 the well-known confidence and presumption 
 of young converts, which prompts to their 
 proverbial forwardness — a confidence and 
 forwardness often attributed to unworthy mo- 
 tives, and spoken of to their discredit. It 
 may not be creditable to them ; yet it argues 
 nothing worse, perhaps, than self-ignorance. 
 They do not know the evanescent character 
 of the feelings, the deceitfulness of the heart ; 
 therefore they give way to it; they trust 
 themselves ; they spread all their sails to the 
 wind, as if it would never change ; they fancy 
 themselves established, and act warmly and 
 boldly, as if established. But this glow is 
 necessarily transient, like all vehement feel- 
 ing; and when it has passed away, they have 
 no abiding principle of life to take its place 
 and keep the work in progress. Other 
 feelings rise up in the midst of the world ; 
 the brightness of the spiritual light fades from 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 25 
 
 before the eye of the soul, and there is no 
 advancement to a higher perfection. 
 
 Let no one, therefore, from the strength 
 and security of his first affections, allow him- 
 self to rest, as if the work were done. It is 
 but begun. Let him settle within himself, 
 deeply and sternly, the persuasion that it is 
 to be going on while life lasts. For want of 
 this it is that the love of so many has waxed 
 cold, and that so many who put their hand 
 to the plough have turned back. If you 
 would persevere, you must understand, at the 
 outset, the necessity of perseverance. You 
 must start with the conviction that you begin 
 a perpetual progress. 
 
 For which reason, instead of looking at 
 the state of society, instead of conforming 
 yourself to the model of those with whom 
 you live, study into the nature and capacity 
 of your soul, your destiny, and your respon- 
 sibility ; imbue your mind with the spirit of 
 your immortal faith, and the influence of 
 the character of your holy Master ; and from 
 the promptings of a soul thus filled and 
 kindled, act out Christianity for yourself; — 
 not as others do, nor as others expect you 
 3 
 
26 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 to do, but as this state of mind impels you. 
 There is no true and safe course but to be 
 obedient to these suggestions of a mind 
 which has faithfully studied for itself into the 
 doctrine and temper of the divine life. These 
 suggestions are to it as the instinct of its 
 immortal nature — as unerring, as safe, as the 
 instincts of the lower orders of beings. Man's 
 bodily instincts are as nothing, for his bodily 
 interests are of little moment, and in pursuing 
 them he has no need of an infallible guide. 
 But the interests of his undying soul are of 
 infinite consequence : in his search for them 
 he needs an infallible guide; and that guide 
 he has in the promptings of his own mind, 
 whenever he has cultivated it with the deep 
 study of truth and faith, and steeped it by 
 faithful contemplation in the secrets of divine 
 love and infinite purity, and brought it into 
 intimate communion with the Holy Spirit of 
 God. If you have truly acquainted yourself 
 with your Master and his revelation, — if you 
 have entered into their spirit with your whole 
 soul, — then act yourself, freely, boldly, and 
 you will not know what it is to stop short. 
 This very action will be progress. 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 27 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 ERRORS NOTICED AND CORRECTED ESPE- 
 CIALLY THE ERROR THAT THE CHRISTIAN 
 LIFE IS NOT TO BE TAKEN UP EXPRESSLY 
 IS NOT TO HAVE A MARKED COM- 
 MENCEMENT. 
 
 Besides the causes of error which are 
 hinted at in the preceding chapter, there are 
 others still more worthy of consideration. 
 Of these I do not know that there is any 
 more common or more detrimental than that 
 which is the subject of this chapter. It is 
 an error which arises naturally from the cir- 
 cumstances of birth and education in a Chris- 
 tian land, and from the idea that under such 
 circumstances the Christian character grows 
 up of course, just as the social does, and per- 
 haps as part of the social. It differs from 
 that before mentioned in this, that, while that 
 supposed the Christian character something 
 to be formed by a certain process in a certain 
 time, — to be done by the job and finished 
 
28 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 at once, — this supposes that it is never any 
 thing to be taken up as a distinct subject of 
 attention, or to be made an express concern ; 
 but is to be left to take care of itself, under 
 those influences to which all are subjected, 
 and beneath which it will grow up spontane- 
 ously. This is a common error; it infects 
 the great mass of nominal Christians; it 
 deceives and paralyzes even conscientious 
 men, and keeps them from all progress by 
 persuading them that the soul will grow of 
 itself, as the body does. 
 
 This error is so widely connected with 
 misapprehensions respecting the origin and 
 nature of the religious life, that it cannot be 
 fully developed without a wide discussion. 
 But It is of less importance thoroughly to do 
 this, than to exhibit the error itself It has 
 no doubt been fostered by the manner in 
 which the axiom has been received, that all 
 safe progress is gradual, that whatever is 
 violent and sudden is unnatural and unsafe 
 — an axiom true in itself, when rightly un- 
 derstood, but very falsely applied in the pres- 
 ent instance. Is not the progress of the 
 day gradual, it is asked, and the progress 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 29 
 
 of the seasons imperceptible ? Does not the 
 seed germinate and spring forth without our 
 being able to detect or trace it ; growing 
 night and day, we know not how ; first the 
 blade, then the ear, and then the full corn in 
 the ear ? Are not all the beneficent oper- 
 ations of Providence and nature thus? — 
 never rapid, vehement, instantaneous, but 
 always gentle, quiet, gradual? And, satis- 
 fied with this analogy, we sit down to wait 
 the advancement of our character, just as we 
 wait the progress of the season ; as if we had 
 only to sit and wait ; to do nothing to hasten 
 or retard it; as if its course was onward as 
 inevitably as fate. We do not perceive that 
 we advance ; but no matter : who sees the 
 sun advance on the dial-plate ? We have no 
 consciousness of being in motion ; but, then, 
 who sees the motion of the planets, or the 
 increase of the blade of corn? We are 
 making no efforts : certainly not; for a growth, 
 to be healthy, must not be forced. Who 
 would have the sickly and short-lived prod- 
 uce of the hotbed ? 
 
 But even if we chose to follow strictly the 
 analogy between the insensible universe and 
 3* 
 
30 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 the living moral soul, this mode of reasoning 
 is unjustifiable. If we do not see the day 
 come forward with our eyes, we perceive 
 clearly, after an interval, that it has come 
 forward; and though our keenest sight does 
 not detect the growth of the plant, we yet do 
 see that it has grown ; and we should be ex- 
 tremely unhappy if the opening dawn should 
 become stationary, or the grain and fruit 
 should pause in the process of ripening. 
 But those of whom I speak feel no uneasiness 
 at the perception that their characters have 
 become stationary; they are not troubled 
 when, at the greatest intervals, they still find 
 that they have gained nothing. All is made 
 quiet in their conscience at once by the sov- 
 ereign pacifier, "O, we are not to expect 
 great results : improvement must be gradual ; 
 the more gradual, the more sure." 
 
 Has not this lamentable result been en- 
 couraged in many minds by the expression 
 of a very eminent writer of great influence ? 
 — ** that our Christian congregations contain 
 two classes : to the one must be preached 
 conversion, to the other improvement " — an 
 altogether just remark, which commends itself 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 31 
 
 at once to every man's approbation. But 
 how easily misapplied ! Every one, on hear- 
 ing it, bethinks himself, of which class is he ? 
 " I do not need conversion ; I have been re- 
 ligiously educated ; always attended church, 
 always read my Bible, always accounted my- 
 self a Christian; I only need improvement. 
 My case, then, is safe; I am on the right 
 side, and of course it will be for my interest 
 to improve ; in fact, considering the advan- 
 tages amidst which I live, I cannot fail to 
 improve : 'tis not in the nature of man to 
 live under such excellent preaching and with 
 such facilities for reading and worship, and 
 yet not improve." Thus perfectly satisfied 
 with his situation and with himself, he folds 
 his arms and does nothing. The current 
 floats him along, and he does not dream that 
 it can be to any other than the true haven. 
 
 If I should address such persons, I would 
 ask them if they do not presume too much, 
 when they thus take it for granted that they 
 do not need conversion. Does it by any 
 means follow, because they have been edu- 
 cated under Christian institutions, that they 
 have availed themselves of them, and become 
 
32 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 Christians? Because they have been taught 
 to read the Bible from their childhood, does 
 it follow that the spirit of that holy book has 
 formed their characters ? Certainly this can- 
 not be pretended. One may be brought up 
 in the very recesses of the sanctuary, and yet 
 be as corrupt as an abandoned heathen ; may 
 believe that Christianity is from heaven, as 
 the Hindoo believes that his ancestral faith 
 is divine, and be in heart addicted to all that 
 is unchristian. History and observation tell 
 of but too many who have contended for the 
 faith, and yet who had checked no desire, 
 controlled no passion, at its bidding. It is 
 not, therefore, impossible that many decent 
 men may have been brought up amongst us 
 to honor Christianity, who yet are far from 
 being imbued with its spirit ; that many may 
 have a respect for its precepts and a jealous 
 attachment to its forms, and yet be governed 
 at heart by principles which it would disap- 
 prove. Doubtless there are many such : they 
 are willing to count themselves its friends; 
 they are proud to number themselves among 
 its supporters ; and, being thus Christians 
 by birth, claim the right to be esteemed 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 33 
 
 Christians indeed. But in order to be Chris- 
 tians indeed, they must be religious men ; 
 and religious men they are not : they need 
 to be converted to the influence of the faith 
 they honor ; from the worldliness which gov- 
 erns them, to the personal experience of the 
 power of the truth, which as yet is a dead 
 letter to them. They think they need only 
 to go on : alas ! they have not yet begun. 
 They have the very first step to take. They 
 have the commencement to make. 
 
 Is it not to be feared that many are living 
 and dying amongst us in this very condition ? 
 Is there not a quieting and deceptive influence 
 in much of what passes for religious senti- 
 ment amongst us, producing the feeling that 
 we have all begun — we have all entered the 
 path of life — we have only to go on ? But it 
 is not true that all have begun. How, then, 
 can it be otherwise than dangerous to entreat 
 all to go on ? How can they advance if they 
 have not commenced 1 There can be no 
 true and satisfactory progress unless we are 
 sure that we have made a beginning, and a 
 right beginning. 
 
 Now, the great error is, that men are con- 
 
34 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 tent without any proof that they have made 
 a beginning. They are willing to assume 
 this important and all-essential fact as a thing 
 of course. 
 
 They were born in a Christian land ; they 
 believe Christianity divine; they are pretty 
 good men ; they trust, through God's mercy, 
 they shall be saved. But this does not prove 
 that they have in any proper sense com- 
 menced the Christian life. What are their 
 ruling principles ? On what rest their affec- 
 tions? Where are their motives, desires, and 
 to what are their self-sacrifices offered ? Get 
 an honest reply to these questions, and you 
 find that the world still rules them. A faith 
 in things spiritual, and a supreme surrender 
 to God, they as yet know not. They have a 
 beginning yet to make. 
 
 I hold it to be clear that no man can have 
 done so important a thing as to resolutely 
 take up the Christian law for his guide, 
 without a consciousness afterwards that he 
 has at some time distinctly done so. It is a 
 very momentous act in a man's life when he 
 assumes the obligations and responsibilities 
 of the word of Christ, and says, " For this 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 35 
 
 Master I live and die." He must know that 
 he has done it. It is not a thing to be taken 
 for granted — to be supposed. The bear- 
 ings of this faith on his daily life in a thou- 
 sand ways — its applications to his temper, 
 his thoughts, his will, his habits of living and 
 speech — are too direct and palpable to leave 
 any doubt on the subject. The struggle 
 between this spirit of allegiance to conscience 
 and faith, and the fleshly appetites and worldly 
 principles; the trials, and falls, and recov- 
 eries, and shame, and joy, and all the vari- 
 ous tumults of mind and heart, which the 
 Christian pilgrimage implies, are all too dis- 
 tinct, too deeply felt, too strongly marked, 
 to be forgotten, or to allow room for conjec- 
 ture, supposition, or any testimony but the 
 heart's own consciousness. Many, very many, 
 have been so situated in early life, and have 
 been so formed by influences exclusively of 
 the world, that they can at no time come to 
 a Christian life without most conspicuous 
 and absolute change — a disruption of former 
 ties, a more or less painful abandonment of 
 former habits, a strange and entire alteration 
 of the favorite and ruling desires. Educated 
 
36 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 as most persons are, it is impossible that they 
 should otherwise arrive at the Christian life ; 
 and this change is an era to be remembered. 
 It leaves deep marks on the history. And 
 as for others, vt^ho have been favored with a 
 more propitious lot, and whose minds have 
 received the sanctifying influence of truth 
 from the cradle, drinking in divine knowl- 
 edge with their daily discipline, and imbued 
 with the temper of Heaven through the power 
 of the society and teaching of their early 
 guides, — they, too, cannot have confirmed 
 their early impressions excepting through 
 efforts and struggles ; they must evidently 
 Tcnow ; it cannot be left to them to take for 
 granted. They may have the most infallible 
 proof that they have actually made a begin- 
 ning. 
 
 But as for the great class of those who 
 can produce neither of these proofs, how can 
 they proceed ? They are grossly self-de- 
 ceived. Their trust and hope are altogether 
 without foundation. 
 
 No wonder that they are content without 
 progress. After assuming, without evidence, 
 that they are Christians, it is a small thing to 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 37 
 
 add the assumption that they move while they 
 stand still. 
 
 Here, therefore, I propose to my readers, 
 that they institute a solemn and thorough 
 self-examination. Let each inquire and know 
 whether he is one of this very extensive class, 
 who thus easily imagine themselves to be 
 something when they are nothing. If he has 
 never yet doubted on the subject, nor rigor- 
 ously inquired, he has reason for apprehen- 
 sion. Let him dwell no longer in uncer- 
 tainty, or content himself with conjecture. 
 Let him ascertain whether he has actually 
 made a religious beginning. If not, let him 
 waste no time in studying how to make ad- 
 vancement. He has an earlier and more im- 
 portant work — to remove away all the heavy 
 rubbish which, through his self-deception and 
 long blindness, has been accumulating about 
 him, and lay in earnest the foundation of a 
 hearty faith, and a holy, heavenly character. 
 If he is not sure that he has already begun 
 the Christian life, let him begin now, to-day, 
 with a prayerful determination, with a de- 
 voted purpose, with a heartfelt self-consecra- 
 tion to God, and Christ, and duty. Let him 
 4 
 
38 PROGRESS OP THE 
 
 leave this great matter no longer in suspense, 
 this most momentous question no longer open, 
 but let him bring his real character and his 
 hidden motives into the light — the clear 
 light of truth — by taking devoutly and res- 
 olutely the first grand step, by performing the 
 initiatory act of intelligently, distinctly, and 
 with a single heart, dedicating himself to 
 the service of his heavenly Master. 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 39 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ERRORS NOTICED AND CORRECTED ESPE- 
 CIALLY THE ERROR OF THOSE WHO FANCY 
 THAT THE CHRISTIAN LIFE MAY BE SUS- 
 TAINED WITHOUT THE USE OF MEANS. 
 
 I HAVE endeavored to expose the mistake 
 of those who dream that the religious life 
 has no beginning. I now turn to those who 
 fancy that it may be sustained and supported 
 without the use of means. 
 
 In stating their error thus, there is absurd- 
 ity on its very face, so great that it may be 
 supposed impossible for any one to maintain 
 such a position. And perhaps to the full 
 extent none will venture to maintain it in 
 terms, though we certainly hear language 
 which very nearly approaches the statement 
 I have made, and daily witness conduct which 
 is consistent with no other principle than 
 that which such a statement involves. In 
 fact, it is the tendency of the speculations 
 and the practice of the day to make light of 
 
40 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 forms, to undervalue modes of operation, to 
 speak of times, persons, places, ceremonies, 
 as unessential, material, instrumental, — as 
 crutches for the lame, leading-strings for the 
 weak, guides for babes, — quite necessary to 
 those who are so far wedded to the body that 
 it clogs and impedes their minds, but wholly 
 unnecessary to the soul itself; in fact, as 
 badges of an inferior condition, as marks of 
 spiritual backwardness, as the remnants of 
 an earthly dispensation, and relics of the 
 infancy of our race, which are fast becom- 
 ing unnecessary in this enlightened age, and 
 which the truly enlightened had best dis- 
 pense with at once. 
 
 There is a good deal of loose thinking and 
 talking of this sort. It is founded on a mis- 
 apprehension of the real nature of the ad- 
 vancement of man in the present world ; as 
 if cultivation and religion were making an 
 actual change, not in his condition and ad- 
 vantages, but his very nature ; relieving him 
 of his dependence on the body, the senses, 
 and the material world. Whereas, evidently, 
 he must retain still his connection with them, 
 his relation to thera^ and must be affected by 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 
 
 41 
 
 them in his desires, appetites, habits, enjoy- 
 ments, character — must act through them, 
 and be acted on by them ; and so long as 
 this is so, it is perfectly impossible that he 
 should be able to maintain a purely spiritual 
 existence, or to advance his spiritual charac- 
 ter, without aid from abroad. While this 
 connection with the outward world perpet- 
 ually operates on him to affect his temper 
 and distract his affections, it is necessary to 
 «jounteract it by agents and contrivances 
 which also operate outwardly. While, every 
 day, appetite must be indulged at stated hours, 
 business done, and exciting thoughts, in- 
 terests, and passions absorb his mind, he 
 must every day have stated means of neutral- 
 izing their engrossing and infecting power, 
 or they will obtain the mastery. 
 
 How it may be when the soul shall be sep- 
 arated from its present connection with the 
 body, we do not know. Perhaps then it may 
 go on a course of holy progress without 
 external aid, or stated help ; though the Scrip- 
 tures give no representations which warrant 
 us to decide peremptorily that it is so. Cer- 
 tainly it is not so now ; and they who fancy 
 4* 
 
42 PROGRESS OP THE 
 
 it to be so, are taking the sure method to 
 dwarf their own stature and chill their devout 
 affections. 
 
 There is, undoubtedly, a distinction to be 
 made between religion and the means of reli- 
 gion — a distinction, the want of attention to 
 which has led to great abuses, and been the 
 parent of fanaticism and superstition. Forms 
 and ceremonies have been exaggerated into 
 the essentials of faith; opinions have been 
 made to take the place of character, and days 
 and observances have usurped the respect 
 which should have been paid to righteous- 
 ness and true piety. In order to avoid this 
 error of times past, it has become a favorite 
 notion with many, that religion only, should 
 have attention and honor — pure, unmixed, 
 unaccompanied religion. They are to be- 
 come religious ; that is the great end ; they 
 are to form perfect characters. Religion does 
 not consist in saying one's prayers, attending 
 church, observing the Sabbath, sitting at the 
 Lord's table, reading the Bible : these things 
 are not religion. One may do all these, and 
 yet not be religious — men have done all, 
 scrupulously, and yet been reprobates. These 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 43 
 
 are but the means; and if one be but a reli- 
 gious man at heart, it is of no consequence 
 whether he scrupulously observe these means 
 or not. Indeed, he had best avoid any ap- 
 proach to a superstitious regard for them ; it 
 would belittle him ; it is best to have a great 
 deal of freedom. One should not be a slave 
 to certain hours ; he can pray at any time ; 
 a prayer is just as acceptable at the work- 
 bench, and in the street, as at the altar ; and 
 every day ought to be a Sabbath; one day has 
 no more real sacredness than another. There 
 is great danger of mistaking the means for 
 the end ; we will pursue the end only. 
 
 Common as something like this may be in 
 the thoughts of many and the practice of 
 more, it is yet wholly indefensible as a mat- 
 ter of reasoning, and utterly ruinous when 
 applied to practice. Here and there a man 
 may be found who can live on these princi- 
 ples uninjured ; but they are extraordinary 
 men ; the great majority would infallibly be 
 destroyed by them. 
 
 They lead to a disregard of religious ser- 
 vices, which will extend, in too many in- 
 stances, to a disregard of religion itself, and will 
 
44 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 often inevitably cause the Christian character 
 to fall into decay, because the props which 
 are necessary to support it are removed. So 
 serious an evil deserves to be carefully con- 
 sidered. There can be little hope of general 
 advancement or great attainment in religion, 
 when such opinions are prevalent. 
 
 Let it be considered, therefore, that al- 
 though, abstractly and strictly speaking, there 
 may be an essential distinction between an 
 end to be gained and the means by which it 
 is to be gained, for all practical purposes 
 there is no difference whatever. If the result 
 be desirable, and can be attained only through 
 a certain process, that process is of precisely 
 the same consequence as the result. If the 
 affair be one of duty and obligation, the obli- 
 gation to perform the process is as absolutely 
 binding as the obligation to effect the result. 
 If I desire to hold an eminent rank in society, 
 if I wish to be a promoter of human good in 
 an important profession, it is just as important 
 that I should pass through the discipline of 
 that preparatory education which fits for the 
 profession, as it is that I should enter on that 
 profession. My usefulness and eminence de- 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 45 
 
 pend equally upon both. It is not enough^ 
 in order to the arrival of a steamship at a 
 distant city, that the crew be at their posts, 
 the engineer at his wheel, and the machinery 
 all in beautiful order ; the boiler must be 
 filled and the fire kindled ; and he would be 
 a stupid commander who should slight these 
 because they are only means — who should 
 say that his object was to arrive at the city, 
 and he was not to be busying himself about 
 these little preliminaries to progress. Yet it 
 would be hard to understand how there is any 
 less stupidity in those who fancy themselves 
 able to arrive at heaven, while they slight the 
 appointed means of proceeding thither as 
 wholly secondary affairs. I ask, " Are you a 
 student of the Scriptures? Do you daily and 
 statedly pray? Are you fond of frequenting 
 occasions of religious worship ? " Your an- 
 swer is, " O, no ! religion does not consist in 
 these things. I am only careful about the 
 great end ; that is all which I need to regard." 
 That is to say, so long as you are resolved to 
 arrive safely at the end of your journey, it is 
 of no consequence whether the water, and 
 the wood, and the fire, be applied to the 
 
46 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 boiler or not ! " But," I add, " one would 
 imagine that your own feelings would prompt 
 you to join in these religious observances 
 and acts — that your own religious state of 
 mind and heart would lead you to take plea- 
 sure in them." " Why, yes, sometimes, now 
 and then ; and then it is well enough to at- 
 tend and use them. But unless one happens 
 to be disposed to engage in them, it is not 
 worth while to do so. It is only the great 
 end which I am anxious about." " And 
 thus," I reply, " caring only for the accom- 
 plishment of your voyage, you have no rule 
 but your inclinations to decide when you 
 shall feed the fire which is to carry you on." 
 One would be glad to ask of the great men 
 who have blessed the world with their light 
 and action in any department of usefulness — 
 especially one would like to ask of the apos- 
 tles and reformers — how this doctrine would 
 have operated in their case, and where the 
 world would have been if they had been be- 
 guiled by it — if Paul, instead of his jour- 
 neyings and toils that he might preach the 
 gospel, and establish and organize churches, 
 and so save men's souls and extend the king- 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 47 
 
 dom of Christ in the world, had thought within 
 himself, "Preaching, and worship, and the 
 Christian community, are only the means of 
 salvation ; they are but secondary things in 
 comparison with salvation : salvation, salva- 
 tion, that is the great, prime, all-absorbing 
 consideration ; and why should I be wearing 
 out my life on the mere means ? " — or if 
 Luther and the other men that have moved 
 the world with their doctrine had sat silent 
 on the happy suggestion that preaching is 
 not religion — religion is the great thing to 
 be regarded? And yet, where is the man 
 who can show that it would have been more 
 absurd in them thus to have forsaken the 
 preaching of the gospel, and the gathering of 
 assemblies, than it is in any private man to 
 forsake the hearing of the word on the same 
 pretence 1 
 
 And yet there are men who practise and 
 defend this unspeakable absurdity ! They 
 think themselves good Christians, and yet 
 waste the hours of the Sabbath, are slack in 
 their attendance on public worship, almost 
 strangers to the Bible, without worship in 
 their families, and without stated prayer in 
 
48 
 
 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 their closets; and, if you expostulate with 
 them, very soberly reply, that these things do 
 not constitute religion ; they care only for re- 
 ligion itself And thus there is not one of the 
 means appointed for and essential to religious 
 establishment and growth which is not put 
 by on this plea. 
 
 It is evident enough, I think, that these 
 means, if not parts of religion, are yet essen- 
 tial to it. But I go still farther. I ask if it 
 be so unquestionable, as appears to be taken 
 for granted, that they are not parts of religion. 
 Is it so clear that the reading of the Scrip- 
 tures, acts of devotion, and attendance on 
 the ordinances, are not essentially, and in 
 their own nature, parts of religion as well as 
 means ? Let us look at this. What is reli- 
 gion 1 Strictly speaking, it is something in- 
 visible, intangible, immaterial — which has 
 no shape, and is not cognizable by any hu- 
 man sense. Practically speaking, it is a cer- 
 tain character — that state of mind, heart, 
 and character, which become the relation in 
 which a man stands to God. Now, I ask, 
 what is that state of mind, heart, or character, 
 without the expression of it ? Is not the ex- 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 49 
 
 pression of it, properly speaking, a part of it? 
 Can we say that there is character where 
 there is no manifestation of it ? If we were 
 consulting philosophical exactness of terms 
 perhaps this might be disputed ; but so far as 
 regards real life and the common judgment 
 of men, it is doubtless correct. We know 
 nothing of real benevolence of heart, if in 
 no way manifested — nothing of uprightness 
 and strength of character — nothing of intel- 
 lectual power — except so far as expressed; 
 and this expression is always regarded as part 
 of the character itself; it is the character 
 acting. 
 
 Now, religion is a certain state of mind, 
 heart, and character; but if there be no man- 
 ifestation of this state in action, neither the 
 individual himself nor other men could be 
 assured of its existence and reality. But what 
 are the expressions, what the manifestations, 
 of religion ? The most natural, perhaps the 
 most spontaneous, the most indubitable, is 
 prayer. It is the expression of the religious 
 heart to its God. It is the language of the 
 devout mind. It is the action of the pious 
 spirit. I cannot conceive, therefore, that any 
 5 
 
50 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 one should esteem prayer simply a means of 
 religion. It is a part of religion. It is an 
 inalienable concomitant. And it is repre- 
 sented, throughout the Scriptures, more fre- 
 quently as an essential act of religion, — 
 inseparable from and inherent in a devout 
 character, — than as a means of increasing 
 the devotional temper, or of spiritual im- 
 provement. 
 
 The same is true concerning the Chris- 
 tian ordinances. To express faith and new- 
 ness of spirit by baptism, and to commune 
 with the Savior at his table, are in them- 
 selves religious actions. To read the Scrip- 
 tures, and devoutly meditate on the truth of 
 God, and worship in his house, and listen to 
 the preaching of his word, are religious acts, 
 expressions of a religious character, no less 
 than means of increasing in Christian knowl- 
 edge and holiness. 
 
 It is, therefore, far from true that, in neg- 
 lecting religious observances, we merely post- 
 pone the means to the end. They constitute, 
 in their very nature, parts of that which we 
 seek to achieve. They are natural express 
 sions, manifestations, of the religious charac- 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 51 
 
 ter ; and one can hardly be authorized in 
 imagining himself to possess that character, 
 if it do not thus display itself. 
 
 If it be still said that one may make his 
 selection from these means, and use those 
 which best suit his own case and satisfy his 
 own want, it may be replied, Undoubtedly 
 he may find greater edification in some than 
 in others, and to such he may with peculiar 
 interest apply. But he can hardly think him- 
 self at liberty to slight any, so long as all 
 have been appointed by God, and are regarded 
 as part of man's service to him; so long, 
 too, as each of them is only another mode of 
 giving expression to that spirit which he pro- 
 fesses to desire to cultivate, and which he 
 ought to find pleasure in expressing. 
 
 If these things be so, every man's duty be- 
 comes plain, and he can live in neglect of it 
 only at the hazard of a great absurdity, which 
 casts his soul into fearful peril. 
 
52 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE YOUNG CHRISTIAN PUT ON HIS GUARD 
 AGAINST THE HINDERANCE TO PROGRESS 
 WHICH ARISES FROM DISAPPOINTMENT RE- 
 SPECTING THE ENJOYMENT OF A RELIGIOUS 
 LIFE. 
 
 Among the hinderances against which the 
 young Christian may need to be put on his 
 guard, we may mention, next, that arising 
 from false expectations respecting the enjoy- 
 ment of a religious life. The opening views 
 of a religious existence are like those of 
 youth, bright with vague anticipations of the 
 future, full of gay dreams, romantic and vis- 
 ionary expectations. It is the youth of the 
 soul, excited, ardent, confident, and painting 
 the future in colors too uniformly gorgeous to 
 be true. Not that any extravagance of ex- 
 pectation can exceed the actual happiness 
 which the Christian realizes in his estab- 
 lished faith. Young Christians do not, for 
 they cannot, expect too much ; but they ex- 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 53 
 
 pect — as the Scripture says "they ask — 
 amiss J^ They err as to the nature more than 
 as to the degree of enjoyment. They look for 
 it in excitement, in strong emotion, in ecstasy, 
 in rapture. They expect to be forever in the 
 same glowing frame of bliss in which they 
 are now, while the subject is all new and their 
 feelings all fresh. The scales have just fallen 
 from their eyes, the light has broken in upon 
 their souls for the first time, and the scene 
 that bursts upon their view is that of Elysium. 
 They have no idea that familiarity can ever 
 render it less beautiful, or dull in any degree 
 the emotion with which they gaze upon it. 
 But it is a universal and inexorable law of 
 nature, that familiarity tames the passionate- 
 ness with which any object is regarded. The 
 excitement of feeling goes down. The ex- 
 altation and frenzy of the mind subside. 
 The pleasure may continue, but the rapture 
 ceases. 
 
 He, therefore, who proceeds to cultivate 
 his religious nature under the expectation 
 that it is to yield him a perpetual, sensible 
 joy, is sure to be disappointed. It is not the 
 nature of the mind to be capable of perpet- 
 5* 
 
64 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 ual, unintermitted joy. In all cases in which 
 the mind is wrought up to a high pitch of 
 excitement, one of two consequences always 
 results — either it becomes weary, and the in- 
 terest of the subject is worn out by the in- 
 tenseness of the action, — and this often 
 happens in religion, where a most passionate 
 devotion for a season ends in coldness, indif- 
 ference, and worldliness, — or else, the excite- 
 ment being modified and controlled by reason 
 and principle, the mind settles down into a 
 quiet, steadfast, gentle, and equable condi- 
 tion, without ecstasy, but full of content. 
 And this, too, is what we see in daily exam- 
 ples of the judicious and confirmed believers. 
 Many are made greatly unhappy, and fall 
 mto grievous despondency, for want of duly 
 considering this. They find erelong that 
 their frame of mind sinks. Not only have 
 they no rapture, but they perceive with horror 
 that occasionally even a lethargy of feeling 
 comes over them, as if they had fairly ex- 
 hausted the excitability of their mind. They 
 read and pray with a calmness which fright- 
 ens them — a calmness they in vain try to 
 agitate ; and whereas they were shortly before 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 55 
 
 lifted to the third heavens with delight, they 
 now stand unmoved, as if the very pulse of 
 celestial life had stopped. The contrast ap- 
 pals them. They fancy themselves deserted 
 of God and all goodness. They feel them- 
 selves abandoned and lost, and are ready to 
 sink in consternation and despair. They had 
 imagined, in their hours of exalted musing, 
 that the love of the world was subdued ; that 
 the power of its fascination was gone ; that 
 its follies and lusts, its pride and pleasures, 
 having been seen once in their true light, 
 could never have charms for them again ; and 
 that the sinful feelings they had formerly ex- 
 cited could not be excited by them again. 
 But, as they again move about in the actual 
 scenes of the world, they find it far other- 
 wise. The desires and appetites which they 
 supposed to be dead, were only sleeping, and 
 they suddenly wake. The passions and sel- 
 fishness which they supposed subdued spring 
 up vigorously, and would break their chains, 
 and clamor for indulgence, as before, and, 
 perhaps, in some unguarded moment, seize 
 on their gratification. All this astonishes 
 and alarms them. They were not prepared 
 
56 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 for it. It is wholly unexpected. They find 
 themselves deceived. They knovi^ not how to 
 meet it. They are miserable. Their life is 
 wholly a different one from that which they 
 proposed to themselves — a life of watching, 
 self-denial, and anxiety, when they had been 
 looking for nothing but peace and joy. They 
 are disheartened, and perhaps abandon the 
 path which promised them pleasantness and 
 peace, but has yielded them weariness and 
 pain. 
 
 It becomes important, therefore, that the 
 beginner should understand the nature both 
 of Christian duty and of Christian happiness, 
 that he may count the cost before he begins, 
 and not fail through false and unreasonable 
 expectations. 
 
 Let him consider, then, that Christian duty 
 is conformity to a law, and Christian happi- 
 ness the result of that conformity. This law 
 governs the affections, as well as the conduct ; 
 determines the whole state of mind and feel- 
 ing, as well as of life; and it is only when 
 mind and feeling are conformed to this law 
 that the man is in the way of Christian duty, 
 — only then, therefore, that he is to expect 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 57 
 
 happiness. And what happiness? That which 
 belongs to the consciousness of having done 
 duty ; that which grows out of and appertains 
 to the state of mind which is attained ; — 
 and that will be, of course, satisfaction, con- 
 tentment, rather than ecstasy. The con- 
 sciousness of being right, the assurance of 
 the favor of God, — these, being abiding and 
 habitual impressions on the mind, are likely 
 to produce a calm peace, rather than a tu- 
 multuous delight. 
 
 Then it is to be considered, further, that 
 religion operates on the human mind upon 
 similar principles with other subjects, and fol- 
 lows the laws and constitution of human na- 
 ture. If, then, in respect to the question be- 
 fore us, the analogy of the other affections 
 shows the same result, we ought to be satis- 
 fied. And undoubtedly it is so. The reli- 
 gious affections are kindred to all the affec- 
 tions. That love which is the essence of 
 religion is the same love which exhibits itself 
 in the various relations of man, and is the 
 source of the purest and strongest joys of 
 earth, as it is to be of those of heaven. How 
 intense and fervent the love of a mother for 
 
58 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 her child ! What sacrifices will she make 
 for it, what toils endure, and how readily 
 does her heart flatter and her eye overflow ! 
 Yet there are times when that strong affec- 
 tion seems dead in her bosom, and we have 
 often heard her say that it seemed to her as 
 if she had no feeling, as if she were an un- 
 natural creature, from whom all natural 
 affection had departed. Yet, meantime, un- 
 excited as she is, she goes resolutely on, 
 discharging her maternal duties, till some oc- 
 casion calls forth again the floods of tender- 
 ness. She did not blame herself — we did 
 not blame her — for that habitual tranquillity 
 of feeling, for that temporary coldness; — 
 far from it. The cares of a large family 
 never could go on, if the parent were agitated 
 always with the intense feeling toward all the 
 children which is the real measure of her love 
 for each ; and we know that she gives as gen- 
 uine proof of her affection where the work 
 she does for them takes her thoughts away 
 from them, when she forgets them for a sea- 
 son, because she is so busy for their good, as 
 when she overwhelms them with caresses and 
 tears. 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 59 
 
 So, too, the father of the household. He 
 leaves them in the morning, is absorbed with 
 the toilsome cares of his business, and may 
 not be distinctly conscious of a thought or 
 emotion going back to them during the day. 
 Is it proved, then, that he does not love 
 them? Time was, when the image of her 
 who is now the mother of his children haunt- 
 ed him like a dream, mingled with all his 
 thoughts, could not be, would not be, ban- 
 ished from his mind : it was like a light about 
 him wherever he went, and a bliss in his 
 thoughts however he was employed ; and thus 
 his love was one perpetual living rapture. 
 Because it is so no longer, does he therefore 
 love her the less? Nay, he loves her the 
 more, — with a sober, steadfast, habitual con- 
 fidence and affection, which has lost its pas- 
 sion, but has become an essential portion of 
 his being, — intrudes on him less, but in its 
 calmness and quietness blesses him more. It 
 is only the idle dream of romance which ex- 
 pects the rapture of the lover to be perpetu- 
 ated in the sober certainty of waking bliss 
 which makes the happiness of home. And 
 so of all the affections. The religious affec- 
 
60 PROGRESS OP THE 
 
 tions go by the same law. When newly 
 awakened and fixed on the great realities of 
 God and eternity, they engross, and agitate, 
 and absorb the soul ; there is no room for 
 anjy other thought, affection, or care ; these 
 fill and consume the whole being. But by- 
 and-by the heart settles into a state of tran- 
 quillity ; and the man, occupied in obedience 
 and duty, is excited less, and walks with his 
 faith as an old and familiar friend. 
 
 Let it, then, be no discouragement to the 
 religious aspirant, that familiarity with his 
 new life has abstracted something from the 
 keen relish it had at first. Let him learn to 
 find an equal satisfaction in the moderate and 
 unexciting life of tranquil duty, that he at 
 first found in the strong emotions of the mind. 
 Acceptance with God depends on the heart 
 being right with him ; and as you do not 
 judge of the Tightness of your child's affec- 
 tion toward yourself and the other children 
 by its vehemence of expression, by its being 
 easily called out in tears and vented in out- 
 cries, but rather by its steady and unobtrusive 
 watchfulness for your wishes, and carefulness 
 not to offend, and fidelity, and kindness,- 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 61 
 
 SO believe that the great Father judges of 
 you, and approves you none the less because 
 the strength of emotion with which you first 
 came to him has subsided into an equable 
 confidence and uniform obedience. 
 
 And here I cannot refrain from saying a 
 few words in relation to another source of 
 discouragement, which often operates in con- 
 nection with that, to the consideration of 
 which this chapter is especially devoted. 
 
 The Christian is very frequently disheart- 
 ened, not only at finding less excitement and 
 rapturous enjoyment in the religious life than 
 he expected, but also at not discovering such 
 obvious marks of progress in the advancing 
 stages as at the commencement. But it is a 
 very important truth for him who is going 
 forward in the Christian life to remember, 
 that the growth of character follows, in many 
 respects, the analogy of all other growth. In 
 its beginnings it is more perceptible ; its prog- 
 ress in its first stages is more striking : an 
 extraordinary difference is in a very short time 
 noticed, after a man has positively changed 
 from worldliness to religion. But the suc- 
 ceeding steps become by-and-by less percep- 
 6 
 
62 
 
 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 tible; and though actual, perhaps equal prog- 
 ress may be made in a more advanced state 
 of the Christian course, yet the work may 
 seem to be almost stationary. An illustration 
 of this may be found in the different appear- 
 ances of motion in the rising and the me- 
 ridian sun ; the former seeming to advance 
 with rapidity, the latter hardly to move. Or 
 take, for comparison, a work of art, a paint- 
 ing. The artist takes a blank and unmeaning 
 canvass. He sketches the outlines of his 
 beautiful subject. A very short time suffices 
 to exhibit great progress. The whole form 
 and features come rapidly into view. But, as 
 he approaches towards the finishing of his 
 work, he labors the more delicate parts — he 
 retouches, refines, perfects; but.it all makes 
 little show : in truth, there may be more and 
 more careful study, and anxious toil, and the 
 highest efforts of his genius, and yet the 
 amount of labor and thought, and the degree 
 of improvement, be perceptible to none but 
 a most observing and practised eye. So it is 
 with the Christian character the nearer it 
 approaches to perfection : there may be great 
 watchfulness, laborious self-discipline, toil for 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 63 
 
 advancement, and a perpetual addition of 
 those delicate strokes, those hues and shades 
 of spiritual beauty, by which perfection is at- 
 tained; but no change shows itself, mean- 
 while, to the common observer; the Chris- 
 tian seems to others precisely where he was a 
 month ago, and he himself may be dissatisfied 
 at not perceiving any obvious marks of growth 
 corresponding with his arduous labors. 
 
 Let the Christian, then, not be deceived. 
 Let him be sure that he judges himself by a 
 right standard. It is true that he ought not 
 to be too easily satisfied of his improvement ; 
 but neither ought he to be discouraged through 
 an irrational regard and judgment of his 
 moral condition. When the oak was just 
 springing from the ground, and rearing its 
 stem in the increase of its first tender season, 
 its growth of but twelve inches above the 
 soil, whereon nothing but decayed leaves was 
 manifest before, appeared conspicuous and 
 considerable ; but now that it has waved its 
 branches in the sunshine and winds of three- 
 score summers, and sheltered two genera- 
 tions of men with its beneficent shadow, and 
 nurtured innumerable tribes of living crea- 
 
64 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 tures in its kindly arms, it may add the same 
 measure of increase in a year to each of its 
 hundred gigantic limbs, with no perceptible 
 enlargement ; its real growth has been a hun- 
 dred-fold what it was when most conspicuous 
 to men, but no one observes or appreciates it. 
 So it is with the Christian character : the 
 more advanced its stages, the nearer it attains 
 to perfection, its actual improvement, though 
 greater than in the beginning, may neverthe- 
 less be less perceptible. 
 
 In view of the discouragements alluded to 
 m this chapter, and of all others that might 
 be enumerated, I would say to him who has 
 really entered on a religious life, ** You have 
 taken the only rational course, the only safe 
 course, the only truly happy course : perse- 
 vere unto the end ; run with patience the 
 race that is set before you ; fight the good 
 fight, keep the faith, lay hold on eternal life. 
 Light is sown for the righteous, and gladness 
 for the upright in heart." 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 65 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 CONSIDERATIONS DESIGNED TO ASSIST THE 
 CHRISTIAN IN THE SUCCESSFUL USE OF 
 THE MEANS AND METHODS OF RELIGIOUS 
 PROGRESS. 
 
 In order to the successful use of the means 
 of religious progress, so that they shall truly 
 operate to a religious growth, it is essential 
 so to employ them as to create an equal, 
 healthy development of the character in all 
 its parts, so as to avoid the inconsistency and 
 distortion which are the consequence of too 
 exclusive devotion to some, and the compara- 
 tive neglect of others. A perfectly well pro- 
 portioned religious character is rarely to be 
 found ; but for that very reason it should be 
 the more anxiously desired. 
 
 Character is constituted of the state of 
 the mind and affections, and the habits of 
 life. These ought all to be in harmony with 
 each other, — directed by the same princi- 
 ples, exhibiting the same features, wearing 
 6* 
 
66 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 the same complexion. If they disagree, there 
 is a painful discordance perceived; some- 
 thing is wrong; there is neglect of duty, 
 blame somewhere. 
 
 Now, the means of cultivating and perfect- 
 ing the right state of mind and affections are, 
 primarily, meditation and prayer, and those 
 mental exercises of contemplation, self-exani- 
 ination and study, by which the soul is di- 
 rectly wrought upon and raised to a spiritual 
 fervor. Thus it approaches to God, cherishes 
 holy and benevolent desires, and comes to 
 love and enjoy the things that are unseen and 
 eternal. And when, from the seasons of 
 contemplation and thought, the man goes into 
 the scenes of active life, he carries with him 
 this propensity to goodness, these desires to 
 do well. He goes with a mind imbued with 
 the sentiment of devotion, and the spirit of 
 dutifulness. 
 
 Thus far. Well. But the character is not 
 yet complete : the habits of his active life 
 make part of it. And what are they ? Do 
 they correspond with this internal frame? 
 Are they in harmony with these principles 
 and sentiments ? 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 67 
 
 We are ready at first to ask, " How can they 
 be otherwise ? " But we are soon reminded 
 that it is often even so. It is common to 
 witness lamentable inconsistencies between 
 the feelings and the conduct. Some men 
 appear to live two lives. They seem to have 
 two souls. In private thought and in familiar 
 converse they are devout men. Their sen- 
 sibilities are quick ; their emotions are strong ; 
 their sense of God lively ; and they greatly 
 enjoy their seasons of devotion and reading. 
 But in the routine of life they are worldly, 
 grasping, self-indulgent, devoted to gain, neg- 
 lectful of trusts and duties, and far inferior 
 to many who have no religious sensibility, 
 who find little enjoyment in retirement and 
 reflection, but who have accustomed them- 
 selves to the most scrupulous fidelity in every 
 passing hour of social life. 
 
 It is to be with you, therefore, a matter 
 of study and effort to carry the sentiment of 
 the closet into action. The life of contem- 
 plation must not contradict the life of action. 
 It is but partially that character is formed 
 which is formed only by thinking, musing, 
 and purposing. It wants the completeness of 
 
68 PROGRESS OP THE 
 
 active habits. It wants the test which is to 
 be found only in life. It wants the principle 
 of growth which can be found only in action. 
 And this is what is particularly to be con- 
 sidered in this connection — action is an 
 essential and all-important means of religious 
 growth; so much so, that even the contem- 
 plative graces, the virtues of the mind, true 
 affection, exalted principle, benevolent dispo- 
 sitions, — which we are ready to believe thrive 
 best in solitude ; to cultivate which, multi- 
 tudes have shut themselves out from the world, 
 that they might have nothing to do but to 
 meditate, read, and pray, — even these fail of 
 their true perfection unless quickened and 
 ripened by action. For consider a moment. 
 When the mind is thus excited and glowing 
 with divine truth and virtuous thoughts, is 
 it not all so much impulse to do something 1 
 Does not the desire spring up spontaneously, 
 prompting to act, — that is, to express itself? 
 But there is no opportunity to act, and the 
 impulse is denied. It is excited again, and 
 again denied. What is the consequence? 
 It is enfeebled. It becomes less and less 
 strong. It fades and dies from the soul. 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 69 
 
 Generous impulses, not acted upon, perish ; 
 the soul loses its sensibility, becomes callous. 
 It has long been a familiar accusation against 
 a certain sort of sentimental reading, that it 
 tends to consume and waste the sympathies, 
 and paralyze the affections, by highly excit- 
 ing them, but allows them not expression in 
 action, awakening the impulse, but refusing 
 to gratify it. It is equally the case with all 
 religious affections. And it is easy to under- 
 stand how they who trust to them as if suffi- 
 cient, and take no pains to carry them out in 
 act, may come to exhibit two distinct charac- 
 ters — elevated thought and glowing feeling, 
 but selfish indolence of life and cold inac- 
 tivity. 
 
 Consider, therefore, that action is an essen- 
 tial means of religious growth. Follow out 
 the highest impulses of your mind. Obey 
 the suggestions of your conscience. Never 
 deny the religious promptings of your feel- 
 ings. Then you will establish the dominion 
 of principle, the supremacy of conscience. 
 Then all good feelings, having received their 
 natural and intended gratification, will be 
 
70 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 encouraged and strengthened, because they 
 have had their legitimate exercise. 
 
 Remarks to the same purpose may be made 
 respecting the relation which subsists be- 
 tween principle and habit. Habit is a thing 
 of tremendous power : it is sometimes om- 
 nipotent in man; and it is of the greatest 
 consequence that its energies be as much as 
 possible, and as easily as possible, secured 
 on the side of virtue. It may be the greatest 
 helper or the greatest hinderance to improve- 
 ment. It was intended to be the former ; 
 and yet to how many, through life, does it 
 prove the latter ! In how many men does 
 virtue make toilsome growth, because clogged, 
 thwarted, depressed, by unfortunate habits ! 
 — habits formed in early life, established in 
 the flesh, rooted in the affections, woven into 
 the daily routine of conduct, till they become 
 a part of the very nature ; and the poor wretch 
 whom they enthral is bound down to a mis- 
 erable insignificance of character, and yet is 
 wholly unaware of their deleterious predom- 
 inance. They are habits, for example, of lux- 
 urious living, of perpetual personal indul- 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 71 
 
 gence, of slothfulness, of mental inaction ; 
 they are around him like a heavy and dead- 
 ening atmosphere, through which his spirit 
 has to make its way upward, and by which its 
 flight is perpetually retarded. It has always 
 been so, and he does not know it ; or, if he 
 knows it, how difficult to enforce the remedy ! 
 But in most instances he has no conception 
 of the true nature of the evil which hinders 
 him ; is not, perhaps, even aware of his griev- 
 ous want of alacrity and progress — like the 
 perpetual invalid, who has borne about with 
 him from time immemorial a seated disorder 
 which enfeebles him, but has no violent symp- 
 toms, and who still engages in all the gen- 
 eral duties of life, without the vigor and de- 
 light that other men know, but with all the 
 vigor '^nd delight that he ever knew, and 
 therefore without any consciousness of the 
 extent of his own deficiency ; and who never 
 can be conscious how far he is below the vigor 
 and spirits of other men, except by being de- 
 livered from his ailment and made like other 
 men. So is it with him whose moral power 
 is palsied by the unpropitious habits I have 
 referred to : he never can know the degree 
 
72 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 in which they are an injury to him, until, 
 having thrown them off, he sees how rapidly 
 he rises without them. 
 
 There is the greatest reason, then, that one 
 should strictly examine himself in this re- 
 spect ; that he may not be depressed forever 
 by circumstances in his modes of life, of 
 whose mjurious influence he is ignorant, and 
 which he might counteract if he knew them. 
 
 But could he counteract them? It will 
 not do to answer. No; and yet the difficulty 
 is in many cases so all but insuperable, that we 
 are ready to understand in their literal sense 
 the words of the prophet, and believe that the 
 undertaking is as desperately hopeless as that 
 of changing the leopard's spots, and the Ethi- 
 opian's skin. To take the most familiar ex- 
 ample : there is the drunkard. He contin- 
 ues such against his own will, in spite of his 
 own resolutions, in contradiction to his own 
 interest, tears, professions, purposes, princi- 
 ples. His bad habit is but the type of all 
 bad habits ; a little more desperate, perhaps, 
 because it has worked itself into every fibre 
 of the body, and made its gratification to be 
 clamored for by every organ and function. 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 73 
 
 every muscle, sense, and nerve ; but all bad 
 habits, in their place, exercise the same insane 
 dominion. Sloth — is not the man ashamed 
 of it ? does he not make vows against it 1 
 does he not mourn at the ruin and disgrace 
 it entails upon him? and yet he is slothful 
 still. Ill-temper — does not the passionate 
 mother, whose bursts of anger lead her to ill- 
 treat the child that she loves, blush at her own 
 shame, and condemn herself with bitterness 
 and tears? and yet to-morrow the passion 
 is her master again. Procrastination — with 
 what keen anguish, with what abiding sense 
 of degradation, with what remorse for friends 
 neglected, duties omitted, precious opportu- 
 nities of usefulness passed by, and occasions 
 of honor and improvement lost forever, — 
 with what compunction and self-condemna- 
 tion, with what torment of unintermitting 
 self-dissatisfaction, — does that inexplicable 
 habit pursue its poor deluded victim ! And 
 yet remorse and shame, and a thousand in- 
 jurious results, and the appeal even of sober 
 principle, are vain. He still submits to his 
 master, and will be wiser to-morrow. Other 
 instances any one can add. And they sug- 
 7 - 
 
74 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 gest the fearful question, which almost stag- 
 gers our hope as we reply to it — whether, in 
 sober truth, a confirmed ill habit be not in- 
 curable, and whether virtue have any prospect 
 of gaining in the conflict. 
 
 The best answer is found in the appeal to 
 opposite facts. The worst habits in the most 
 desperate cases, and under the most unprom- 
 ising circumstances, have been corrected. 
 The history of the Christian religion is filled 
 with examples. It has shown its divine power 
 in these triumphs, and proved, by the won- 
 derful trophies of its grace, in the amazing 
 conversions from sin which it has wrought, 
 that however desperate may seem to be the 
 struggle between principle and habit, yet the 
 good is the stronger, and must prevail in the 
 end, whenever it is faithfully and persever- 
 ingly supported. 
 
 But how much faith and what long per- 
 severance it demands ! 
 
 From these extreme cases, then, the Chris- 
 tian, who is seeking improvement, must take 
 both a warning and encouragement — a warn- 
 ing that he examine his condition, and be 
 fully acquainted with every circumstance in 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 75 
 
 his modes of life which threatens this ruinous 
 ascendency over his principle ; and an en- 
 couragement that, if he detect any which is 
 interwoven with his whole being, so that to 
 part with it is like parting with a right hand 
 or right eye, he yet is able to do it, and to 
 enjoy the happiness of deliverance. 
 
 He is especially to learn the great duty of 
 seeing to it, from the first, that all his per- 
 sonal and social habits, his disposition of time, 
 the order of his affairs, the customs of his 
 daily life and business, be such as to facili- 
 tate his virtuous purposes, — such as to make 
 devotion and religion easy to him, — such as 
 to make holy thoughts and benevolent actions^ 
 always in place, never incongruous, never 
 irksome, because evidently in the way of 
 other affairs. By this method, he should give 
 to goodness the fairest chance of obtaining 
 a complete ascendency over him. Principle, 
 finding all the habits of life and mind con- 
 genial, would thrive, and strengthen, and 
 assume the complete mastery. 
 
 To make this yet the more sure, let him 
 take pains directly to aid and encourage his 
 principle ; not only by bringing it forward and 
 
76 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 making it active on great emergencies, but 
 by allowing it, nay, calling on it, to exert 
 itself constantly ; giving it small tasks ; cheer- 
 ing it by the pleasure of small triumphs ; and, 
 in a word, by making even those lesser offices 
 of duty and kindness, — which other men do 
 of course, and without thinking, — by making 
 even them matters of principle, — turning 
 them into thoughtful acts of religious obedi- 
 ence, doing them because they are consonant 
 to faith, and are suitable to a spiritual and 
 holy nature — whether he eats or drinks, or 
 whatever he does, doing all to the glory of 
 God, as to the Lord, and not to men. In this 
 way, the full power of habit and all its noblest 
 energies may be enlisted on the side of his 
 improvement. Because, principle being often 
 called into action, and being made the su- 
 preme deciding authority, more frequently 
 than any thing else, the habit of acting from 
 principle will become stronger than any other 
 habit ; will overcome, suppress, exclude every 
 hostile habit : the opposition between princi- 
 ple and habit, which once so palsied the pur- 
 pose and neutralized the efforts of virtue, will 
 have ceased; and the forces once antago- 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 77 
 
 nistic having become united in the alliance 
 of truth, having become in fact one, there can 
 be no longer any serious impediment to the 
 onward progress of the soul. Being made 
 free from sin, ye will become servants to God 
 and have your fruit unto holiness. 
 
78 FROGRESS OF THE 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MAXIMS ON WHICH THE EXPECTATION OF RE- 
 LIGIOUS PROGRESS IS TO BE BUILT. 
 
 Let us suppose that the low views and the 
 erroneous principles on which the Christian 
 life is too frequently made to proceed are set 
 aside. We next go on to state the maxims 
 on which the expectation of Christian pro- 
 gress must be built. 
 
 And, first of all, it is evident that there 
 must he a beginning. There is no such thing 
 as setting out in the midst. There is a first 
 step in every journey; there is the com- 
 mencement of life in every germ. The reli- 
 gious life of the soul can form no exception : 
 it must have a first step, a commencement. 
 Define it as you please, — let it be the act 
 of the human reason alone, — let it be the 
 moral character as exhibited in daily life, — 
 let it have no authority or guide but the indi- 
 vidual judgment and will ; still there must be 
 a beginning somewhere, for the simple reason 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 79 
 
 that the individual who exercises the judg- 
 ment and will has a beginning ; so that no 
 one, by adopting a low idea of the nature of 
 the religious life, can thereby escape the obli- 
 gation to ascertain whether he have started 
 on the true career, nor assume that he came 
 into it as a matter of course when he came 
 into the world. For into what did he then 
 come ? Into those very habits of decent 
 living which, in his view, are the Christian 
 life ? Surely not. Those habits were formed 
 at a time when he had power to form the 
 opposite habits ; when he had the opportunity 
 to decide for himself which he would adopt ; 
 and when, from some motive or other, he 
 did adopt the better rather than the worse. 
 If he claims that these should satisfy his con- 
 science, then he must be able to show that he 
 adopted them of good intention, that he formed 
 the purpose to possess and maintain this char- 
 acter. Either he formed the purpose, or he 
 did not form it : if he never formed the pur- 
 pose, but is what he is by pure accident, then, 
 of course, he will not pretend to any more 
 virtue, thoxi if, by a similar accident, he had 
 become any other character ; and, on the 
 
80 PROGRESS OP THE 
 
 Other hand, if he formed the purpose and 
 pursued it by resohite forethought and plan, 
 then he made a beginning. Therefore, nothing 
 can be more absurd than the idea so com- 
 monly and unthinkingly held by men, that 
 they are in the midst of their religious pro- 
 gress, when they never formed a distinct in- 
 tention of pursuing it, and cannot prove that 
 they ever laid an express plan in relation to it. 
 Novi', if this be true in regard to that low 
 idea of the Christian life just referred to, 
 how much more is it true of that correct and 
 elevated idea which rises beyond the decen- 
 cies of external morals, to the spiritual purity 
 of the affections, companionship with Christ, 
 and a universal holiness. This absolute and 
 express devotion to things invisible and eter- 
 nal, this perpetual and supreme reference to 
 the spiritual, is not a state of mind which 
 grows up spontaneously, which starts to being 
 of itself, out of the incumbrances and occu- 
 pations of this visible state ; — it must be the 
 result of effort, the effect of design. No man 
 can have thus gained the mastery over the 
 sensible present without having intended it 
 and labored for it : he could not do this with- 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 81 
 
 out fixing a mark on that era of his life; 
 without being able to go back and say that 
 then he made a beginning; not perhaps at 
 such a day or hour, or even absolutely such 
 a year ; but certainly that at such a period of 
 life he took a decided stand, and, by some 
 process of mind more or less protracted, came 
 to the express understanding with himself 
 that he was bound by religious obligations. 
 
 This is the first element in the religious 
 life — this settled purpose of soul, this dis- 
 tinct, acknowledged, cherished intention and 
 plan to live for heaven. He that cannot 
 convict himself of having deliberately formed 
 such a purpose, who is not conscious of 
 having meditated and acted upon such a 
 plan, talks idly when he asserts that he is in 
 the midst of a. Christian course. He deceives 
 himself He wants the first element of the 
 religious life. 
 
 Next to this purpose, religious progress 
 demands effort. The purpose must not die 
 in inaction ; it must not, as, alas ! is too fre- 
 quently the case, waste itself in reverie and 
 musing. That dreamy state of the mind, 
 which loves to dwell in contemplation, — to 
 
82 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 sit with the eyes half closed and gaze on the 
 visions of glory which the fancy brings before 
 it, — to think of the admirable things that 
 may be done, and the grand designs which it 
 would be delightful to accomplish, — is an 
 unprofitable state, and does little to advance 
 the character. It is likely to enervate rather 
 than to improve it. No purpose is of any 
 value which does not ripen into action ; and 
 the ever-present purpose of Christian pro- 
 gress is nought, unless accompanied by ever- 
 active effort. 
 
 Inaction is the death of all virtue, the palsy 
 of the character. It accounts satisfactorily 
 for the backwardness and meanness of Chris- 
 tian men in Christian attainments. One 
 might almost fancy, from the sluggishness 
 with which men hold their faith, that, in 
 adopting the gospel as their hope and rule, 
 they had simply placed themselves on board 
 some convenient vessel sent for their deliver- 
 ance, and now were quietly to float down the 
 gentle stream to the great city of their rest; 
 instead of which, all experience and all rev- 
 elation teach them, that they are embarked 
 on a wide and perilous ocean, where they 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 83 
 
 must watch and toil, and where they can 
 make no progress except they make effort. 
 
 Our infatuation on this point is dreadful. 
 Nothing else comes without labor and perse- 
 verance. Learning, accomplishments, dis- 
 tinction, wealth, — they are all earned ; and 
 no man who desires them hesitates to pay 
 for them the full price, enormous as it some- 
 times is, at which alone they can be pos- 
 sessed. But that greatest and highest attain- 
 ment, a perfect human character, is to come 
 of itself The calm peace of self-govern- 
 ment, — the holy luxury of heavenly-mind- 
 edness — the lofty and complacent dignity 
 of spiritualized affections — the honor of being 
 like God, and glory of entering with Jesus 
 Christ into immortal purity and love, — this 
 we expect to obtain by wishing : this vast 
 acquisition, this unlimited and illimitable 
 boon, we look at, we admire, we long for, we 
 do not doubt we shall possess ; and yet we 
 make for it nothing like the effort which we 
 make to get bread for our children and or- 
 naments to our houses. 
 
 No wonder, then, that the Christian com- 
 munity improves so slowly. No wonder that 
 
84 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 exemplary patterns of Christian attainment 
 are so rare. No wonder that, instead of 
 seeing all around us those men of the beati- 
 tudes, those partakers of the divine nature, 
 those illustrious imitators of God, of whom 
 the New Testament speaks, and whom Christ 
 meant to fashion as his peculiar people, we 
 are compelled to mourn over inconsistency 
 and frailty — compelled to hide a multitude of 
 sins in our good men with the mantle of a 
 wide charity — compelled no extenuate and 
 apologize for our own and our brethren's 
 faults, on the score of that human imperfec- 
 tion, which it is our shame that we have not 
 long ago surmounted and repressed. No 
 wonder that, in this laxness of exertion toward 
 Christian perfection, the world still waits to 
 comprehend the meaning of that description 
 which speaks of a *' royal priesthood," **sons 
 of God," *' perfect men in Christ Jesus." 
 For where are they? Here and there one, 
 just to satisfy us that the Word of God de- 
 scribes no impossibility — just enough to cast 
 unspeakable reproach and shame on the indo- 
 lence of the backward multitude of believers, 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 85 
 
 — backward, because they make no true 
 effort to go forward. 
 
 But it is not this listlessness and inaction 
 alone, to which we are to look as the cause 
 of this imperfect measure of Christian attain- 
 ment amongst us ; — much is to be imputed 
 also to a certain vagueness in respect to the 
 nature and order of Christian progress. Men 
 do not distinctly perceive what it is, nor how 
 it should proceed. The same inaccurate and 
 cloudy notions already adverted to, which per- 
 suade them that they are in the successful 
 prosecution of a work they have never ex- 
 pressly begun, nor formed any express pur- 
 pose of doing, lead them also to believe that 
 it will be, by-and-by, successfully completed 
 in some general way ; but they have not de- 
 scribed to themselves in what way it is to be. 
 They indistinctly see they must go forward ; 
 but they have no clear, accurate idea of the 
 path, and no idea whatever of the stages by 
 which they are to proceed. In a word, their 
 notion of the whole subject is general and 
 confused, amounting to nothing more than 
 that they are to be improving themselves and 
 advancing toward heaven; that they are to 
 8 
 
86 PROGRESS OP THE 
 
 grow better as they grow older ; — but as to 
 analyzing this idea, and reaching an actual 
 understanding of the several points in regard 
 to which they are to grow better, — this is 
 foreign from their thought ; and no wonder 
 that this vagueness of purpose keeps them 
 stationary. 
 
 The next point, therefore, to be considered 
 is, tha*t religious progress is to be made by 
 stages. It is not merely proceeding, but pro- 
 ceeding from one point to another. It is not 
 merely becoming better, but becoming better 
 first in one respect and then in another. 
 
 All progress is from stage to stage. In 
 the processes of nature it is so ; — first the 
 Wade, then the ear, then the full corn in the 
 ear ; — a continued growth, but arriving at 
 and passing certain epochs or periods as it 
 proceeds. So in the growth of the human 
 frame, and of the human mind ; so in the 
 advancement of society and knowledge. No 
 science can be taught, no art can be learned, 
 except in passing from step to step ; one por- 
 tion must be acquired first as a preparation 
 for another, and the third can be reached only 
 through the full comprehension of the second. 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 87 
 
 Why should religious knowledge and Chris- 
 tian character be exceptions ? Why should 
 we not expect in their pursuit also to find 
 natural steps of advancement, which invite us 
 to aim at one attainment in the first place, 
 and to make that a stepping-stone for the 
 next ? And if our religious progress were 
 divided out for us into portions, would not 
 its accomplishment be more certain and more 
 satisfactory ? 
 
 It may not be easy — indeed, it is very 
 difficult — to state distinctly and with philo- 
 sophical exactness the successive stages of 
 the religious progress ; and for this reason, 
 among others, that they cannot be precisely 
 the same to all men. Even the author of 
 that celebrated description of the Christian 
 life which depicts the Pilgrim's Progress, 
 though of a class of believers who have gone 
 as far as any in making Christian experience 
 of the same undeviating type in all individu- 
 als — has yet found it necessary to allow great 
 varieties in the several histories which he 
 framed. Greater varieties still will be allowed 
 by most persons who consider carefully the 
 infinite diversities which exist in the natural 
 
88 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 tempers and dispositions of men, and the cir- 
 cumstances of education, society, business, 
 companions, forms of Jife, &c. in which men 
 are placed. It is inevitable that, under this 
 state of things, no minute account can be 
 given of the stages of Christian progress 
 which will precisely apply to all persons. 
 We can state nothing more than a few general 
 principles, of whose varying application every 
 man must judge for himself 
 
 Thus we may say, first, this culture of 
 character which you have undertaken is a 
 vast and complicated thing : it is not one 
 thing, but many ; and it demands equal watch- 
 fulness and effort in many directions, as to 
 the thoughts, the passions, the words, the 
 actions. It demands right affections toward 
 all objects that concern you in this world, 
 and in the invisible world ; the proper balance 
 of the affections; the due adjustment of the 
 habits with the principle ; the true combi- 
 nation of freedom and restraint, of contem- 
 plation with action, of firmness with gentle- 
 ness. It demands knowledge, self-restraint, 
 watchfulness, and action, in so many direc- 
 tions, on so many subjects, and so uninter- 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 89 
 
 inittingly, that to undertake the whole at 
 once, to assume the equal charge of all, and 
 attempt their faithful regulation at the same 
 moment, is a task that might well seem des- 
 perate. The work must be divided and clas- 
 sified ; the field must be separated into por- 
 tions ; special attention must be first bestowed 
 on this, and then on that, and the huge labor 
 be facilitated by partition, the long journey 
 accomplished by stages. 
 
 Then, secondly, as respects the precise 
 order in which the several objects shall be 
 taken up and accomplished, it is clear that 
 the first care should be to establish the do- 
 minion of some great leading principle in 
 the soul, some one master authority, to whose 
 pervading influence all shall submit, and from 
 whose absolute word there shall be no appeal. 
 This will be to lay the foundation of the 
 character steadfast and strong, and to further 
 and facilitate the unity and compactness of 
 the whole structure. And the Creator has 
 provided for this in the very constitution he . 
 has framed, by making conscience the su- 
 preme power, and ordaining that every faculty 
 and disposition shall bow to its sway. To 
 8* 
 
90 PROGRESS OF THE 
 
 assure to conscience its rightful sovereignty 
 is, therefore, the first object; to this one great 
 end the attention should be directed and the 
 chief effort made, because, until conscience 
 sits monarch in the soul, all etfort after per- 
 manent moral advancement must be vain ; 
 and afterward none can be lost ; and in the 
 mean time, while this is going on, much dis- 
 cipline of the heart and the life will be un- 
 consciously accomplished which otherwise 
 might demand serious labor. Let the vigor 
 of the soul, then, be concentrated to the 
 accomplishment of this result, rather than 
 dissipated and enfeebled in the attempt to 
 perform several acts of inferior moment. 
 
 Having made some progress in this great 
 work, there is another distinct object which 
 may in the same way command the special 
 attention of the soul, and be made matter 
 of studious and almost exclusive consider- 
 ation — the predominant affection, namely. 
 This is of not inferior consequence to that 
 just mentioned. That to which the heart is 
 devoted decides the character ; and if the 
 character is matter of solicitude, especially 
 b it matter of solicitude to decide what shall 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 91 
 
 be mistress of the heart. Here the case is 
 plain. Love is the first and second thing ; 
 love is the fulfilling of the law; he that 
 dwells in love dwells in God. This is the 
 principle that must sway the affections : when 
 it does, the law will be fulfilled, and the soul 
 will dwell with God, without any minute and 
 painful toiling after the petty details of duty. 
 Let this, then, be a distinct study, — the sep- 
 arate and express aim, — until the character- 
 istics of divine love are impressed deeply on 
 the heart, and all meaner affections recognize 
 and bow to its dominion. 
 
 Another distinct object must be, to gain an 
 ever-wakeful consciousness ^of the divine pres- 
 ence. The good child must learn to feel the 
 Father's presence, must never lose sight of 
 his eye ; and it is essential to spiritual growth 
 that the spirit human should be always aware 
 of its contact with the Spirit divine. This is 
 to be learned. This must become a habit. 
 And it can only be by making it a subject of 
 distinct study and effort; so that the soul, 
 which the officious senses would restrict to 
 this visible scene of things, may be able to 
 
92 PROGRESS OP THE 
 
 Struggle away from them, and look alway at 
 the things which are unseen and eternal. 
 
 Let these suffice for specimens of what is 
 intended by stages in the religions progress. 
 I trust I have said enough to exhibit my 
 meaning clearly. The doctrine I would in- 
 culcate is, that, instead of proposing to our- 
 selves, in general terms, the vast and vague 
 purpose of becoming religious, we should 
 parcel out our duty into its natural depart- 
 ments, and make each the object of separate 
 discipline, until we have become in some mea- 
 sure adepts in it, and then attend in the same 
 way to another. Of course, this method can- 
 not be pursued to, the letter; no one can 
 exclusively cultivate his conscience, and have 
 no care of his affections; nor cherish the 
 thought of God, and yet neglect his con- 
 science. On the contrary, attention to either 
 of these objects greatly tends to fix attention 
 on the other two; but unquestionably the 
 greatest proficiency in regard to each and to 
 all would be achieved oy an effort specially 
 directed to one at a time. 
 
 This general principle might be illustrated 
 
CHRISTIAN LIFE. 93 
 
 and explained to a much greater extent ; but 
 enough has been said to render it intelligi- 
 ble, and show its application. One thing at 
 a time, though a rule impossible to be literally 
 adhered to, is yet, as far as it may be observed, 
 as wise in the progress of the religious char- 
 acter as in any other important affair. 
 
 END. 
 
14 DAY USE 
 
 ETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED 
 
 LOAN DEPT. 
 
 RENEWALS ONLY>-TEL. NO. 642-3405 
 
 This book is due on the last date stamped below, or 
 
 on the date to which renewed. 
 
 Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. 
 
 STANFQRgl ^ j. 
 
 INTER LIBRARY 
 
 151986 !1 
 
 9^ 
 
 I5i^^7 
 
 LOAN 
 
 ONE MONTH miR RECEIPT 
 NON-RENEVVADL 
 
 OCT 16 1969 
 
 AUTO. DISC. FEB 2 '87 
 
 IRVINE 
 
 TERLIBRARY [pAV \ 
 
 .IIIN 2 2 19/7 
 
 1-JS~11 
 
 2£S. Cifi^ MAY i 2. "^8 
 
 ) \><\ 
 
 o«:r riR. 111! 1 'ftn 
 
RETURN TO the circulation desk of any 
 University of California Library 
 or to the 
 
 NORTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILIT\ 
 BIdg. 400, Richmond Field Station 
 University of California 
 Richmond, CA 94804-4698 
 
 ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 Dfi 
 2-month loans may be renewed by calling 
 
 (510)642-6753 
 1-year loans may be recharged by bringing bo( 
 
 to NRLF 
 Renewals and recharges may be made 4 d* 
 
 prior to due date 
 
 DUE AS STAMPED BELOW 
 
 HAY 1 7 1993 
 P£t: 14 1993 
 
 JUN 2 7 2000