^ 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 University of Califof 
 
 Mrs. SARAH P. WALSWOR'^ 
 
 Received October, i8g4. 
 Accessions No. S^^^O- Class No, 
 
\ I (j ^ /Yii^miH 
 
•^\ 
 
 u.\. 
 
ESSAYS. 
 
 JOHN ABERCROMBIE, M.D., F.R.S.E., 
 ii 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 ' INQUIRIES CONCERNING THE INTELLECTUAL POWERS," *' THE 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL FEELINGS," 
 
 &C., &C. 
 
 FROM THE 19TH EDINBURGH EDITION. 
 
 NEW-YORK: 
 
 Harpeh 6l Brothers, Publisher s, 
 
 82 Cliff Street. 
 
 1845. - '^ •- 
 
 :\ 
 
 "^^Ca^^^^ 
 
 ' ^%SA 
 

 si^if>o 
 
4 
 
 or n 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 In this new and revised edition of the last pro- 
 duction of Dr. Abercrorabie, are now, for the first 
 time, incorporated some of the best of the author*s 
 didactic writings — ^the most matured fruits of his 
 well-stored and philosophic mind. No mean ev- 
 idence of the high popularity in which the vari- 
 ous emanations of his pen are held, is afforded 
 by the fact, that the present volume is a reprint 
 from the nineteenth Edinburgh edition, while his 
 previous works on the " Intellectual Powers" 
 and the " Moral Feelings" have even enjoyed a 
 still wider circulation both in Europe as well as 
 in this country. The above named works will 
 also be found included among the series of the 
 " Family Library," 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2007 with funding from 
 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/abercrombieessaysOOaberrich 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 I. Harmony op Christian Faith and Christian 
 
 Character 7 
 
 II. Culture and Discipline of the Mind . . 99 
 
 III. Think on These Things 147 
 
 IV. The Contest and the Armour . . . 187 
 V. The Messiah as an Example . ' . . . 245 
 
THE 
 
 HARMONY OF CHRISTIAN FAITH 
 
 CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 
 
TO THE INDUSTRIOUS CLASSES. 
 
 You have lately been addressed on a variety 
 of subjects, and by a great variety of individuals, 
 all of whom profess to feel an interest in your 
 welfare. He who now claims your attention 
 will yield to none of them in the deep interest 
 which he takes in you, or in the anxious desire 
 which he feels to contribute anything in his pow- 
 er towards promoting your comfort and better- 
 ing your condition. He has been long in hab- 
 its of much intercourse with you, and has learn- 
 ed to know your wants, to enter into your feel- 
 ings, and to estimate your character. He is 
 now desirous to cultivate that intercourse more 
 and more, and to communicate with you, from 
 time to time, on subjects of the highest interest 
 
 There was a period in the history of this coun- 
 try, now nearly two hundred years ago, when 
 political contests ran very high, and even the 
 pulpits were often made to give forth the sounds 
 of political strife. It is related of a distinguish- 
 ed clergyman of that day, that he was found 
 fault with by his friends for '* not preaching to 
 
10 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 the times." He replied in terms which carry 
 with them a weight of meaning worthy of the 
 most deep and serious attention, "When so 
 many brethren," said he, " are preaching to the 
 times, will you not allow one poor brother to 
 preach to eternity ?" 
 
 For some years past this country has re- 
 sounded from end to end with discussions and 
 contests which relate to " the times." You of 
 the industrious classes have had your attention 
 much occupied, shall I say distracted, with 
 these discussions ; and each new topic, as it 
 was brought before you, was represented as 
 carrying with it consequences and benefits of 
 the highest importance to your prosperity and 
 your comfort. Some experiments have conse- 
 quently been made, and you are, in a measure, 
 qualified to judge whether they have answer- 
 ed your expectations or fulfilled the promises 
 which were made respecting them. Others are 
 still proposed with equal confidence ; what ben- 
 efits may result from them, time will show. 
 
 But, amid all this discussion on " the times," 
 has it never occurred to you that life is passing 
 quickly on, and will very soon be over; that 
 a period is approaching with fearful rapidity, 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. H 
 
 when, regarding each of us, " time shall be no 
 longer ?" Has it never occurred to you to think, 
 with deep and personal interest, of that hour 
 when all that our best friends can do for us will 
 be to convey us, with suitable decency, to the 
 grave, to cover us with the green turf, and then 
 to return to the tumult of life with the same 
 activity and interest as if we had never been ? 
 To them the face of nature shall bloom fresh 
 and fair as it bloomed before ; and the full tide 
 of life shall flow on as it flowed before ; and 
 some pageant shall again move on, and a busy 
 crowd shall follow it with looks of wonder and 
 shouts of applause, till another and another of 
 them shall drop into the grave, and life, with 
 all its dread responsibilities, shall close upon 
 them for ever. 
 
 For life has dread responsibilities when view- 
 ed in relation to a life which is to come. What- 
 ever be out situation in this world; be it high 
 or low ; be it one of ease and affluence, or of 
 labour, poverty, and suffering, it is the one which 
 has been assigned to us by the great Disposer 
 of all things ; and every rank and situation has 
 attached to it peculiar duties and peculiar re- 
 sponsibilities, for which we must render a strict 
 
12 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 account to Him at the day when the secrets 
 of all hearts shall be revealed, and every man 
 shall be judged according to his works. Amid 
 the bustle and the tumult of life we are too apt 
 to frame to ourselves excuses for violations of 
 the laws of God, and for the neglect of sacred 
 and important duties ; such excuses may satisfy 
 our fellow-men, but the solemn question is 
 whether they will satisfy Him whose law is 
 holy and whose justice is inflexible. Were 
 such excuses admitted for the violation of hu- 
 man laws, the whole system of civil society 
 would run into confusion and anarchy. Have 
 we any ground for believing that the moral gov- 
 ernment of God will be exercised in a manner 
 which, in regard to human laws, would be reck- 
 oned a mockery of justice ? 
 
 But, besides the actual obedience which we 
 owe to the laws of God, and the actual duties 
 which pertain to our various relations to our 
 fellow-men, there is a most solemn class of re- 
 « sponsibilities which belong immediately to our- 
 selves. There is a part within us which shall 
 not die ; an immortal spirit, which must be eter- 
 nally happy in the presence and enjoyment of 
 God, or eternally miserable under the weight of 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 13 
 
 his righteous displeasure. To every man is 
 committed the solemn trust of seeking to have 
 this immortal being prepared for its appearance 
 before God. It must be the subject of great 
 and careful, and anxious moral culture in each 
 man who is really alive to his high destinies as 
 a moral and immortal being. This culture con- 
 sists of a discipline within, open only to the eye 
 of Him whoseeth in secret. By his mercy and 
 his grace, indeed, ample means have been pro- 
 vided, and the all-powerful aid of his Holy 
 Spirit is promised to every one who feels the 
 need of a strength that is not in man ; but an 
 essential movement must be in the mind of the 
 individual himself, leading him to the diligent 
 use of these means, and the earnest and habitual 
 application for this aid ; and, in the whole of this 
 mighty undertaking, the great and solemn re- 
 sponsibility is his own. 
 
 With these facts and considerations continu* 
 ally placed before us and impressed upon our 
 attention, it cannot but strike us as a matter of 
 astonishment that the bulk of mankind seem so 
 little to feel their importance. Engrossed by the 
 cares, anxieties, and business of hfe, or occupied 
 by its frivolities and follies, year after year pass- 
 B 
 
14 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 es over them, and life hastens to its close, while 
 their eager and undivided attention is devoted to 
 pursuits which they are soon to leave for ever. 
 Thus old age, perhaps, creeps on, and the mind, 
 so long unaccustomed to serious thought, con- 
 tinues to be occupied to the last with the con- 
 cerns of the passing hour; or acute disease, it 
 may be, arrests the man in the midst of all the 
 vigour and activity of life, and the truth bursts 
 upon him in a moment that he is hurrying into 
 an eternal world, while he has made no prepar- 
 ation for the wondrous change, and has scarce- 
 ly devoted one serious thought to the fearful 
 venture. 
 
 There cannot be a question of more intense 
 interest than what is the cause of this extraor- 
 dinary and inconsistent conduct. It is simply 
 and primarily to be ascribed to the want of calm 
 and serious thought. Amid the occupations and 
 tumult of life, men do not seriously question 
 themselves what they are, and what they are 
 doing, and whither they are going, and what 
 preparation they are making for the life which is 
 to come. There is nothing which makes so 
 great a difference between one man and anoth- 
 er as the practice of calm and serious thinking. 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 15 
 
 To those who have been unaccustomed to it, 
 there is required at first an effort, but it is entire- 
 ly in their own power to repeat this effort if they 
 will and when they will. It becomes every day 
 easier by perseverance and habit ; and the habit 
 so acquired exerts a material influence upon 
 their condition as responsible and immortal be- 
 ings. 
 
 In that great process, therefore, in which con- 
 sists the healthy condition of any man as a moral 
 being, there is a most important step, of which 
 he must be conscious as an exercise of his own 
 mind. You feel that you have here a power, 
 however litile you may attend to the exercise 
 of it. You can direct your thoughts to any sub- 
 ject you please ; you can confine them to objects 
 ^. which are before you at the time, or occurrences 
 which have passed during the day, or you can 
 send them back to events which took place many 
 years ago. You can direct them to persons 
 whom you are in the habit of meeting from day 
 to day, or to those who are separated from you 
 by thousands of miles. You can place before 
 you persons who lived, and events which oc- 
 curred long before you came into existence, 
 and you can anticipate and realize events which 
 
16 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 are pot likely to occur until you have ceased to 
 exist. 
 
 Study these wondrous processes of your 
 mind ; observe what power you have over them, 
 and what consequences of eternal importance 
 must arise from exercising them aright. If you 
 > can thus think of any subject you please, why 
 cannot you think of God ; of his power, his wis- 
 dom, his holiness, his justice ; of his law, which 
 he has written in your heart and in his reveal- 
 ed word ? Why cannot you think of and real- 
 ize the period when you shall lie down in the 
 grave, and that tremendous moment when all 
 that are in their graves shall hear the voice of 
 the Son of God, and they that hear shall live 
 and shall arise to judgment ? Such truths as 
 these, duly considered or thought of, could not 
 fail, under Divine influence, to exercise a power- 
 ful effect upon all our habits of thinking and act- 
 ing in this life. To think of and consider them 
 is a process of the mind which it is the imper- 
 ative duty of every rational being to perform ; 
 if we neglect it, the guilt, with all its fearful con- 
 sequences, is entirely our own. 
 
 Cuhivate, then, this important power of think- 
 ing of " things which are not seen," and conse- 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 17 
 
 quences of inconceivable moment will result 
 from it both to your happiness and your moral 
 condition, and to your whole habits of feeling 
 and judging respecting the things of this life and 
 of the life which is to come. Retire often from 
 the tumult of the world, and seriously propose 
 to yourself the questions, What are my leading 
 objects in this hfe, which is hastening to a close, 
 and what provision am I making for that life 
 which is never to end ? In the exercise of that 
 power which I possess of thinking of whatever 
 I please, what are the subjects which chiefly oc- 
 cupy my thoughts, what degree of thought am 
 I directing to God and to his law, and to that ac- 
 count which I am soon to render to him ? In 
 what degree is my conduct regulated by a sense 
 of his presence and by the authority of his 
 will ? To what extent do I make his word the 
 rule of my life, and look to it habitually as the 
 light of my feet and the lamp of my paths ? Am 
 I discharging the various duties which belong 
 to the situation in which I am placed in a man- 
 ner which will bear the dread investigation of 
 that day when I must give an account of my- 
 self to God ? Am I a parent, have I intrusted 
 to me the sacred charge of beings who, like 
 B2 
 
18 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 myself, are destined to an eternal existence; 
 what attention am I devoting to the solemn re- 
 sponsibility of training them for immortality? 
 Let me review my whole course of life, my 
 whole habits of thinking, and the objects and 
 pursuits which chiefly occupy my thoughts and 
 engage my active exertions, and say, am I liv- 
 ing for time, or am I living for eternity ? 
 
 It is such a course of inquiry as this that de- 
 termines a man's moral condition. He may 
 read many books and hear many sermons ; he 
 may become well acquainted with doctrines, and 
 learn to argue acutely on points of faith ; but, 
 whatever progress he has made in the knowl- 
 edge of truth, the great business of life is yet 
 to begin, till he seriously enters on the mental 
 exercise of applying it in this manner to his own 
 condition in the sight of God, who searches his 
 heart, and who perceives, at a single glance, the 
 whole details of his moral history. It is an ex- 
 ercise which may require little expense of lime ; 
 in the most laborious and busy life, leisure will 
 be found for it when there exists a due im- 
 pression of its supreme importance. When the 
 exercise has grown into a habit, it will mingle 
 itself with the daily concerns of life, and will 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 19 
 
 shed a directing and enlightening influence over 
 thenfi all, producing an habitual sense of the Di- 
 vine presence, and a uniform rehance on Divine 
 direction and aid in every action of life. It was 
 thus that the King of Israel " remembered God 
 upon his bed, and meditated on him in the night 
 v^atches,'' and his earnest desire above all earth- 
 ly things was that he might "dwell in the 
 house of the Lord all the days of his life, to be- 
 hold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in 
 his temple;" that is, to hve under a constant 
 sense of the presence of God, to contemplate 
 his character and perfections, and to seek the 
 direction of the Almighty in all his ways. 
 
 The mind which has been disciplined to this 
 habit of exalted thought will never be in want 
 of subjects on which it may be exercised. In 
 the works of creation, above, and beneath, and 
 within, it will trace with wonder the wisdom 
 and the power of Him who made them all. In 
 the ways of Providence it will trace the daily 
 working of his hand, and will learn to cast it- 
 self, with filial confidence, on the disposal of 
 him who rules among the children of men. In 
 the word of God, it contemplates him in new 
 and wondrous characters, at once of justice and 
 
20 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 of mercy, and it finds there a subject of thought 
 which, the more frequently and more closely it 
 is studied, presents features of new and increas- 
 ing interest. Taken in its more enlarged con- 
 nexions, it affords a study for the most profound 
 reasoner, while its shortest passages often con- 
 tain a weight of meaning accessible to the most 
 ordinary understanding, and adapted to every 
 relation of life. We ought, therefore, to read 
 diligently the word of God, and to cultivate the 
 habit of directing our thoughts to the important 
 lessons which may be drawn from it. This is 
 a mental exercise highly interesting in itself, 
 and productive of the best effects both on the 
 tranquillity of our minds and the regulation of 
 our conduct. It should be accompanied by ear- 
 nest prayer for the influence of the Holy Spirit 
 to enlighten our minds in the knowledge of the 
 truth, and to impress it upon our hearts in such 
 a manner that it may become the regulating 
 principle of our whole character. 
 
 The habit of calm and serious thought, which 
 has been the subject of these observations, may 
 become the prevailing or habitual exercise of a 
 duly regulated mind. But there are special sea- 
 sons of retirement and reflection which are pe- 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 21 
 
 culiarly favourable to it, and specially intended 
 for its cultivation. Among these we oiay reck 
 on the seasons of private and domestic devo- 
 tion, and the sacred rest of the Sabbath, that 
 wondrous provision of Divine wisdom and mer 
 cy for withdrawing us from the concerns of time, 
 and leading our thoughts to the things of eter- 
 nity. We are too apt to lose sight of the real 
 design and supreme importance of the Sabbath. 
 We are too much disposed to consider the ob- 
 servance of it merely as a certain duty to be 
 performed, and not to feel aright its unspeak- 
 able value, as a period given us for sacred 
 thought, as a means of moral culture. Learn, 
 then, to value the Sabbath ; esteem its exercises 
 as the food of the soul ; as that which is in- 
 tended to nourish you unto eternal life. To 
 those who are laboriously occupied on other 
 days, there is something peculiarly and solemn- 
 ly valuable in the evening of the Sabbath. You 
 are not fatigued as on other evenings with the 
 necessary labours of the day ; you have attend- 
 ed public ministrations of religion, which must 
 have left some impression upon your mind 
 of the things which relate to your everlasting 
 peace. Then is the time to retreat from all in 
 
tf 
 22 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 trusion, to shut your door, to gather your fam- 
 ily around you, and to contennplale yourself and 
 them as passing through a scene of moral dis- 
 cipline to an eternal existence. Lose not the 
 benefit of the precious moments; take your 
 children to your side ; fold them in the arms 
 of parental affection ; and talk to them of that 
 God who has appointed them their lot in this 
 world, and from whose all-seeing eye nothing 
 can hide them for a moment. Talk to them of 
 their high destiny as immortal beings, and of 
 the great provision which is made in the Gospel 
 of Christ for the nourishment and growth of 
 the soul. Talk to them of this life which is 
 hastening to a close, and of that eternal life 
 which is never to end ; and point out to them, 
 from the word of God, ihe way to eternal peace. 
 Gather them around you, and kneel before the 
 throne of God ; seek his mercy and his grace ; 
 commit yourself and them to his guidance 
 through life, and to the power of the Holy Spir- 
 it to prepare and purify you for the life which is 
 to come. Thus shall you return to the labours, 
 the cares, and the uncertainties of the world, 
 with the high bearing of one who is pursuing a 
 better portion than aught that the world can 
 
■1# 
 
 CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 23 
 
 give. Thus shall your habitation be the abode 
 of happiness, of peace, and of love. Thus shall 
 your children rise up to call you blessed. They 
 shall go out from their father's house with im- 
 pressions upon their minds of "things which 
 are eternal ;" impressions calculated, by the 
 blessing of God, to preserve them from the evil 
 that is in the world, and to lead them through 
 the labours and anxieties of life as heirs of im- 
 mortality. 
 
HARMONY 
 
 CHRISTIAN FAITH 
 
 CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 
 
 ** And besides this, giving all diligence, add to your faith, virtue ; 
 and to virtue, knowledge ; and to knowledge, temperance ; 
 and to temperance, patience ; and topatience, godliness ; and 
 to godliness, brotherly kindness ; and to brotherly kindness, 
 charity."— 2 Peter i., 5, 6, 7. 
 
 In the style and composition of the Sacred 
 Writings, nothing is more remarkable than the 
 manner in which, by a few simple expressions, 
 there is laid before us a detailed and harmonious 
 display of Christian faith and Christian char- 
 acter. In such expositions, each single word is 
 often found to be a clear and distinct subject of 
 contemplation in itself, while the combination is 
 arranged with such consummate skill, yet sim- 
 plicity and clearness, that it becomes at once a 
 study for the philosopher in moral science, and 
 C 
 
26 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 a guide to the most humble Christian in his 
 daily conduct through life. A beautiful exam- 
 ple of this nature is furnished by the passage 
 which we have placed at the head of this essay; 
 and, in its connexion with the observations which 
 go before it, taken along with the peculiar rela- 
 tion of its own component parts, it displays the 
 foundation of Christian hope, and affords a de- 
 lineation of Christian character in a manner 
 the most harmonious and comprehensive. 
 
 This striking exhortation is addressed to those 
 who profess to have received the truth respect- 
 ing the divine character and atonement of the 
 Messiah, and to rest their hope, in the sight of 
 God, on that great revelation of his mercy and 
 grace which is contained in the gospel of peace. 
 The apostle expresses to them his earnest desire 
 that they may grow in grace and in peace, found- 
 ed upon the knowledge which they receive in 
 the gospel of the character of God as it is dis- 
 played in his Son ; and he strikingly calls their 
 attention to the provisions which are therein held 
 out to them, so adapted to all their spiritual ne- 
 cessities. He reminds them that God has him- 
 self provided for them in the Gospel all that is 
 required for their spiritual life and for their 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 27 
 
 sanctification to his service ; while he has en- 
 riched this message of mercy with " great and 
 precious promises," calculated to bring them 
 into a state of conformity to the nature of God, 
 and to preserve them from the evil that is in the 
 world through the degradation of the moral na- 
 ture of man. 
 
 Having thus laid before them the ground of 
 their hope in the sight of God and the means 
 provided for their progress in the Divine life, he 
 goes on to impress upon their attention those 
 qualities of individual character which every 
 one who is resting his hope upon this foundation 
 is called upon to cultivate with the most anx- 
 ious care, as his great concern in his passage 
 through this scene of moral discipline. He is 
 required to **give all diligence" in this great 
 work ; implying that, in the cultivation of this 
 character, there is something to be done by an 
 exercise of the mind itself. This is a truth 
 which we are too apt to lose sight of, while 
 under a profession of our own weakness w^e ac- 
 knowledge our need of Divine aid, but sit still 
 in indolence and await its coming. True it is, 
 indeed, that without this aid we can do nothing ; 
 but it is not an impression which a man may 
 
28 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 imagine that he feels, and then content himself 
 with the ideal communicaiion. It is a power 
 which acts through the healthy operations of his 
 own mind ; in the exercise of these, endeavour- 
 ing, as a rational being, to regulate his thoughts 
 and desires by a sense of the Divine will, he is 
 encouraged to expect its communication ; and 
 it is in feeling these assuming the characters of 
 moral health that he has the evidence of its 
 actual presence. " Give all diligence," there- 
 fore, says the apostle, in the cultivation of those 
 qualities of character which are the only evi- 
 dence to yourselves or to others that you are 
 really interested in the gospel of peace. ** Give 
 diligence," he says again, ** to make your call- 
 ing and election sure." *' Work out your own 
 salvation," says another apostle, *' with fear and 
 trembling," having before you the encourage- 
 ment of a strength and a might that is not in 
 man to carry you forward in the great under- 
 taking, " for God workelh in you to will and to 
 do of his good pleasure." 
 
 A great and important truth, which is clearly 
 pointed out in such exhortations, is, that we have 
 a certain power, not only over our conduct, but 
 over the processes of our minds and the regu- 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 29 
 
 lalion of our thoughts ; and that, in the diligent 
 exercise of this power, and a state of mental 
 discipline arising out of it, we are encouraged 
 to look for an influence from God to enlighten 
 our darkness, to give strength in our weakness, 
 and to make us ** more than conquerors" over 
 all the difficulties and dangers which are before 
 us in our progress to an eternal world. The 
 subject is one of deep and extensive interest ; 
 the various important points of consideration 
 which arise out of it could not be expressed in 
 a more striking manner than in the exhortation 
 of the apostle, " Giving all diligence, add to 
 your faith, virtue ; and to virtue, knowledge ; 
 and to knowledge, temperance ; and to temper- 
 ance, patience ; and to patience, godliness ; and 
 to godliness, brotherly kindness ; and to broth- 
 erly kindness, charity." 
 
 In attempting a brief illustration of a subject 
 of such extent and importance, the first object 
 of attention which meets us is, that, in all this 
 exhibition of moral qualities, the primary and 
 fundamental principle is faith. This is at once 
 the source of spiritual life and the supporting 
 element of moral health ; and, until a man be 
 C2 
 
30 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 firmly established in this great principle, it is 
 vain for him to expect to make any progress in 
 the cultivation of Christian character". When 
 we thus consider faith as the source or primary 
 moving cause, essential to the culture of every 
 sound quality of the mind and to every regu- 
 lation of individual conduct, we have to view 
 it in two aspects: in its relation to truths re- 
 garding things not seen, and more especially 
 and peculiarly in its relation to the offers or 
 promises of the gospel of peace. 
 
 In considering the operation of faith in re- 
 gard to the truths which relate to things not seen, 
 we have to keep in mind the peculiarity of the 
 situation in which we are placed in the present 
 state of existence. In our connexion with the 
 things of the present world we are surrounded 
 by physical or material objects ; with these we 
 communicate by means of our bodily senses ; 
 they are continually obtruding themselves upon 
 our attention with little or no exertion of our 
 own, and therefore they exercise over us a con- 
 stant and extensive influence. But these are 
 not our only relations ; as moral and responsi- 
 ble agents, as immortal beings, we have to do 
 with objects as real as those which are present 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 31 
 
 ed to our senses, though of a very different na- 
 ture. The truths by which we ought to be in- 
 fluenced respecting them are addressed to a 
 different part of our constitution, and are to be 
 received upon a separate kind of evidence. 
 They do not come under the cognizance of any 
 of our senses, but are addressed directly to the 
 mind ; and their due influence upon us is pro- 
 duced through that mental process which we 
 call faith. In the exercise of this important op- 
 eration of the mind, our first object is, by a pro- 
 cess of judgment, to satisfy ourselves of the au- 
 thenticity of the statements which are thus ad- 
 dressed to us ; and this we do by an examina- 
 tion of the evidence on which they rest. When 
 we are thus convinced of their truth, the farther 
 operation of faith is to place them before us in 
 such a manner that they may exert the same 
 kind of influence over us as if the things be- 
 lieved were actually seen, or the events expect- 
 ed were taking place in our view. This corre- 
 sponds with the definition given by the apostle : 
 " Faith is the substance of things hoped for, and 
 the evidence of things not seen ;" that is, faith is 
 that exercise of the mind by which things which 
 are future, but expected to take place, influence 
 
Si CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 US as if they were present ; and things not seen 
 as if we saw them. 
 
 The truths which it is the office of faith thus 
 to place before us with all the vividness of pres- 
 ent existence are those which relate to the char* 
 acter and perfections of God ; the great concerns 
 of a world unseen, and the awful realities of a 
 future judgment, and a state of endless being. 
 When these overwhelming truths are really be- 
 lieved, and the thoughts are consequently di- 
 rected to them in a degree at all proportioned to 
 their momentous importance, the mind is in the 
 exercise of faith ; and its operation is to keep 
 the truths before us as regulating principles in 
 the mental economy, and governing principles 
 in the whole character and conduct. It causes 
 them to exercise the same kind of influence over 
 us as if they were objects of sense ; as if the 
 Deity, in all the splendour of his attributes, were 
 disclosed to our view, or as if we were present 
 at the dread hour in which he shall appear in 
 all his sublime and terrible majesty as a righte- 
 ous judge. 
 
 Now in this important process of the mind 
 it is impossible not to be struck with the con- 
 sideration of how much appears to belong to 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 33 
 
 ourselves in the exercise of our powers as ra- 
 tional beings. The truths are revealed, and 
 their evidence is before us ; but the due atten- 
 tion to ihem must be entirely our own. It is 
 ours to examine the evidence by which these 
 important truths are supported ; and, being sat- 
 isfied of their reality, it is an exercise of our 
 own minds to direct our thoughts to them in 
 such a manner, or to keep them so before the 
 mind, that they may exert their due influence 
 over our whole character. The man who, in 
 every action of life, thus bears upon his mind 
 an habitual sense of the Divine presence and a 
 realizing impression of an eternal world, is he 
 who lives by faith. Such a character is stri- 
 kingly contrasted with the conduct of those who 
 live by sense ; who are influenced only by the 
 things which they see around them, and devote 
 their supreme attention to objects and pursuits 
 which they are soon to leave for ever. 
 
 Such is the operation of faith in regard to 
 tru^.h ; we have next to attend to its agency re- 
 specting the offers or promises of the Gospel. 
 This great revelation of peace is addressed to 
 us as beings in a state of condemnation and of 
 impurity from which we have no power to de- 
 
34 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 liver ourselves. For the one it reveals a dis- 
 pensation of niercy, in which, with perfect con- 
 sistency with all the attributes of his charac- 
 ter, the Deity oflfers a free forgiveness ; for the 
 other is promised an influence from himself 
 capable of renewing the moral nature of man, 
 and of raising him again to the image of God. 
 The benefits thus freely promised are offered 
 to every one who believes ; and who is he that 
 believes ? he who is convinced of his guilt, and 
 perceives his moral necessities ; who feels that 
 he is incapable of delivering himself from their 
 power ; who is satisfied of the efficacy of the 
 offered deliverance, and confides in the faithful- 
 ness or sincerity of Him who offers it ; this is 
 he who believes ; and through this failh a man 
 is saved ; for, acting upon the impression of the 
 truths thus believed, he asks an interest in these 
 offered blessings, and throws himself upon the 
 faithfulness of God for a participation in the full 
 benefits of redemption. 
 
 When, under the influence of the mental im- 
 pressions which have been thus briefly referred 
 to, a man has been led to seek an interest in 
 the provisions of the Gospel, he enters upon a 
 new course of existence, the leading character 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 35 
 
 of which is, that it is founded upan and main- 
 tained by failh. Believing his guilt, and confi- 
 ding in the sincerity of God in a free offer of par- 
 don, he seeks an interest in the blessings of re- 
 demption for his reconciliation to God. Be- 
 lieving his moral depravity and helplessness, he 
 seeks continued communications of grace and 
 strength for his growing sanctification and his 
 progressive advancement in the Divine life. 
 Believing the actual existence of things future 
 and things unseen, he feels upon his mind their 
 habitual influence, the presence and the perfec- 
 tions of God, and all the realities of an eternal 
 world. Thus he both lives and walks by faith ; 
 his faith is the source of his spiritual life, and 
 it is the great mean of his daily progress. 
 
 It is to those who profess to have entered 
 upon this life of faith that the striking exhor- 
 tation of the apostle is addressed ; pointing out 
 to them at once the graces of the Christian 
 character which they are called upon to culti* 
 vate with "all diligence," and the means by 
 which they may be enabled to advance with 
 success in this great undertaking. 
 
 I. He exhorts them, in the first place, Add to 
 your faith Virtue. 
 
36 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 The word which is usually translated virtue 
 is well known to imply, in its original and strict 
 signification, fortitude. In its connexion in this 
 passage it appears to naean simply a firmness 
 and consistency of mind in reference to the 
 truths which are the objects of faith, a determi- 
 nation to contemplate them steadily in all their 
 tendencies, and an habitual effort to keep them 
 before the mind, so that they may become reg- 
 ulating principles in the whole conduct. It in- 
 cludes, therefore, an earnest endeavour to culti- 
 vate that character and conduct which the truths 
 so believed are calculated to produce in every 
 one who really believes them. This is the first 
 great step in that mental exercise which consti- 
 tutes living by faith ; and it cannot be too strong- 
 ly impressed upon us how much it is a process 
 of the mind, of which every one must be con- 
 scious who really performs it. From the want 
 of it we see such inconsistencies of character 
 in those who profess to believe the most im- 
 portant truths and who think they believe them. 
 They have, it may be, directed some attention 
 to the evidence of the truths, and have yielded 
 a certain assent of the understanding to their 
 reality, but this conviction has not been followed 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 37 
 
 Up by that necessary process of the mind which 
 is calculated to bring the truths into practical 
 operation upon the moral condition ; they have 
 neglected entirely the exhortation to add to their 
 faith virtue. 
 
 This important exercise of the mind must be 
 in habitual and active operation in him who de- 
 sires to live by faith. The things of time and 
 sense with which we are continually surround- 
 ed exert over us a constant influence; and it 
 requires a peculiar and intense direction of the 
 mind to withdraw us from their power, and to 
 cause us to feel as we ought the influence of 
 events which are future and of things which 
 are not seen. It requires this exercise to be in 
 a state of peculiar activity when we are called 
 upon to act, under the impression of these future 
 and unseen things, in opposition to present feel- 
 ings and present interests, and in circumstances, 
 it may be, in which this has to be done by great 
 exertion and great personal sacrifice. When a 
 man does thus resist the strongest inducements 
 of present things, and sacrifices the strongest 
 personal feelings, propensities, and interests, 
 under simple impressions of things which are 
 future and unseen ; and when he exhibits in his 
 D 
 
38 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 whole deportment a character guided by these 
 impressions, to the overcoming of present feel- 
 ings and personal interests whenever they hap- 
 pen to interfere with each other, this is to live 
 by faith, and this is to add to his faith virtue. 
 
 Such, in a remarkable degree, was the con- 
 duct of Noah. Warned of God that the world 
 was to be destroyed by water, and instructed to 
 prepare an ark for the preservation of his house- 
 hold, he promptly commenced this formidable 
 undertaking, and persevered in it through a long 
 course of years with unshrinking steadiness. 
 During this protracted period he had not only 
 to undergo much severe labour, but, in the pros- 
 ecution of it, must have withdrawn himself from 
 many engagements, and denied himself many 
 indulgences which present feelings and interests 
 would have rendered highly desirable. Besides 
 all this, we must suppose that he had to encoun- 
 ter, day after day, the derision and insults of 
 those around him, added, most probably, to the 
 earnest remonstrances of such as called them- 
 selves his friends against wasting his life in so 
 unprofitable a labour. But these insults, pri- 
 Yations, and remonstrances were alike disregard- 
 ed by this distinguished man of faith, while he 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 39 
 
 endured as seeing Hrm who is invisible, and 
 persevered in his work under the firui and un- 
 deviating conviction that what God had said he 
 would certainly perform. Thus does he exhib- 
 it a wonderful example of that character which 
 is founded upon and maintained by faith ; and 
 thus has he left us a striking pattern of acting on 
 his faith with unshrinking determination and for- 
 titude, in opposition to every impulse from pres- 
 ent things ; or, in the language of the apostle, 
 of adding to his faith virtue. 
 
 And thus will it be with every one who really 
 lives under the power of faith, that is, who feels 
 upon his mind the due influence of the truths 
 which he believes respecting things future and 
 unseen. This wondrous principle, when cul- 
 tivated as the regulating power in the whole 
 character, elevates the man above present feel- 
 ings, and carries him into a region where new 
 objects are presented to his view, and pursuits 
 of a new and superior order engage his atten- 
 tion and meet his enlarged desires. He is 
 raised to " Mount Zion, the city of the living 
 God, to an innumerable company of angels, and 
 the spirits of just men made perfect; to God 
 the judge of all, and Jesus the Mediator of the 
 
4t)' CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 new covenant, and to the blood of sprinkling, 
 which speaketh better things than the blood of 
 Abel." Thence returning to the humble con- 
 cerns of the present world, and all his engage- 
 ments anaong perishing things, he feels their un- 
 satisfying character, and learns to pass through 
 them under the habitual impression that this 
 is not his rest, nor here.his portion. Giving all 
 diligence to add to his faith virtue, it will be 
 his endeavour, by earnest meditation and prayer, 
 to keep the impression of these truths habitu- 
 ally before his view, so that they may alike in- 
 fluence the habits of his mind, and show this 
 influence in every part of his conduct. The 
 sublime conceptions produced on the mind of 
 such a man respecting the character of God 
 will be peculiarly powerful when contemplating 
 him as he is revealed in his Son. In that great 
 message of mercy and of peace he has been 
 taught to seek his only hope of reconciliation 
 to God, as well as his only means of making 
 progress in the Divine life. Acting under the 
 powerful influence of these great objects of 
 faith, he will derive from them a continual and 
 lively motive to love and new obedience ; know 
 ing that " he is not his own, but bought with a 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 41 
 
 price," and that he is under the most powerful 
 obligations to live, not to himself, but to Him 
 who died for him and rose again. Thus culti- 
 vating with anxious care an immediate feeling 
 of the character and perfections of God, the 
 man of faith seeks to keep the impression ha- 
 bitually before him as the directing principle of 
 his life, and to have every emotion and every 
 desire, and, consequently, every part of his con- 
 duct, regulated by a sense of the Divine will. 
 All this important process of moral discipline, 
 we must repeat, is closely connected with an 
 exercise of the mind, of which every one must 
 be conscious who really performs it. This con- 
 sists, as we have seen, in a strong and habitual 
 direction of the thoughts to those truths which 
 are the objects of faith, so that their power 
 shall enter into every feeling of the mind. At 
 first the exercise may require an effort, and ha- 
 bitual watchfulness may be necessary to pre- 
 vent the distracting influence of the things of 
 sense. But, like every habit, it becomes easier 
 by repetition and perseverance, until, under the 
 influence of a power that is not in man, it set- 
 tles down into the uniform, consistent conduct 
 of one who endures as seeing Him who is in- 
 D2 
 
42 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 visible ; and, amid the cares, anxieties, and dis- 
 tractions of life, gives all diligence to add to his 
 faith virtue. 
 
 That discipline of the mind which thus 
 brings it under the habitual influence of the 
 truths which are the objects of faith has well 
 received from the apostle the name of fortitude 
 or virtue ; for a high degree of moral courage 
 is required for commencing it, and a high tone 
 of moral determination is necessary for carry- 
 ing it forward with effect. The first great step 
 towards it is that most difficult of all exercises 
 of the mind which consists of seriously looking 
 within. It is easy to investigate doctrines and 
 to weigh evidences ; and there is a delightful 
 sense of intellectual vigour in detecting error, 
 and exposing sophistry, and demonstrating the 
 triumph of truth. It is comparatively easy also, 
 and it is delightful to a regulated mind, to rise 
 above the events of ordinary life, and to ascend, 
 in exalted contemplation, to those higher re- 
 gions, where shine forth in a peculiar manner 
 the Divine perfections ; to luxuriate amid the 
 wonders of creation, the wonders of Providence, 
 :and, it may be also, the mysteries of grace. 
 But. after the mind has been disciplined to thes.e 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 43 
 
 high pursuits, a more difficult exercise remains, 
 and that is to look within, and determinedly to 
 press the question respecting our own moral 
 condition, and how far we are under the influ- 
 ence of the truths which we profess to believe. 
 It is to search out the very worst concerning 
 ourselves, and steadily to contemplate the truth 
 so discovered in all its important bearings upon 
 our prospects for eternity. Do I beheve the 
 omiscience and omnipresence of Him who is 
 not only the witness of my conduct, but who 
 tries even the thoughts of my heart by the high 
 and holy standard of his law ? then is my moral 
 condition within such as will bear the inspec- 
 tion of that eye. Do I believe in the solemni- 
 ties of a coming judgment, in which strict ac- 
 count shall be required, and the secrets of all 
 hearts revealed ? When my whole moral his- 
 tory is then displayed, and this account required 
 of me, what shall I answer ? Such a course of 
 rigid scrutiny is the first great step in that moral 
 process in which consists the health of the soul. 
 When a man has determinedly nerved himself 
 for the work, and has resolved that nothing shall 
 shake him from his stern and rigid accomplish- 
 ment, this is to add to his faith virtue. 
 
44 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 II. That this discipline of the mind, so es- 
 sential to the health of every nioral being, may 
 be conducted upon right principles, it is neces- 
 sary to pay minute attention to the truth and 
 soundness of those opinions which are thus re- 
 ceived as objects of faith and adopted as regu- 
 lating principles in the character. Therefore, 
 continues the apostle, to your faith and virtue 
 add Knowledge, This is a consideration of the 
 utmost importance, which, though it may be re- 
 cognised in theory, is less attended to in prac- 
 tice than it ought to be. Whatever is received 
 as ihe object of faith must first be presented to 
 the mind as the object of knowledge ; that is, 
 it must be received only upon full examination, 
 and upon such evidence as is sufficient to con- 
 vince the understanding of its truth. Without 
 this the professed belief must be either some 
 vague generality unworthy of the character of 
 truth, or some vision of the mind itself which 
 leads only to enthusiasm ; it is not faith. 
 
 On this subject various errors are committed, 
 but all of them are of serious moment. One 
 of the most common, perhaps, is indifference. 
 Men who do not profess to believe the great 
 truths relating to things not seen are at no pains 
 
, CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 4{V 
 
 to study and examine them. With what eager 
 attention do we find them applying to interest- 
 ing questions in politics, trade, or science ; seek- 
 ing intensely after accurate knowledge, and di- 
 recting all the energies of their mind towards ar- 
 riving at the whole truth. But with what cool- 
 ness do they apply to those inquiries which most 
 of all concern them. In these they are satis- 
 fied with some vague and general notions, which, 
 perhaps, they have been taught in their youth, 
 or which they have adopted from others with- 
 out feeling the supreme importance of making 
 themselves fully acquainted with the truth ; of 
 forming distinct and clear opinions, and of per- 
 ceiving distinctly the grounds on which these 
 opinions are formed ; of being satisfied whether 
 their belief is consistent with truth, and wheth- 
 er it embraces the whole truth on those great 
 questions in which are involved their hopes and 
 prospects for a life that is to come. 
 
 Others affect to disbelieve these great truths, 
 and to consider them, perhaps, as the supersti- 
 tions of vulgar minds ; and they seem to think 
 it a proof of superior understanding to treat them 
 with contempt or even with ridicule. Do we 
 ask such persons for some account of that long. 
 
46 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 and laborious, and serious course of inquiry by 
 which they have arrived at this conclusion on a 
 question of such momentous importance, v^c 
 must not press them too closely for an answer. 
 We shall find that they have scarcely examin- 
 ed them at all. They have allowed their minds 
 to be carried away by some trivial objection or 
 some fanciful sophism ; and truths which re- 
 ceived the cordial assent of Newton, and of 
 many others distinguished by understandings of 
 the highest order, are often dismissed by the 
 most frivolous minds as altogether unworthy of 
 belief. This affectation of skepticism is as con- 
 temptible as it is melancholy. It is not the re- 
 sult of calm investigation, but the rash decision 
 of a distorted and prejudiced mind, which is 
 turned aside by its own partial views, widely at 
 variance with sound inquiry, or which, misled 
 by its moral condition, has argued itself into the 
 disbelief of what it wishes not to be true. For, 
 in many who have become the victims of vain 
 and sophistical opinions, the will evidently takes 
 the lead in the mental process, and opinions are 
 seized upon with avidity and embraced as truth 
 which have recommended themselves to previ- 
 ously existing inclinations of the heart. This 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 47 
 
 is a principle in the philosophy of human nature 
 of most intense and solemn interest. For when 
 the desires of the heart have once departed from 
 a full approbation of the purity of the Divine 
 law, the course is easy by which the mind 
 frames for itself a system in accordance with its 
 own disordered inclinations, and, after a certain 
 process, comes to rest in that system as truth. 
 In both cases the unbelief arises not from de- 
 ficiency of evidence, but from a total want of 
 that condition of the mind without which the 
 best evidence has no power; **If they believe 
 not Moses and the prophets, neither would they 
 be persuaded though one rose from the dead." 
 There are persons of a third class who, pro- 
 fessing a sincere love for the truth, wander from 
 it by their own speculations, and by neglecting 
 that calm and deliberate application of the mind 
 which is required for adding to their faith knowl- 
 edge. It is thus that, in all ages, men have de- 
 luded themselves and led others astray by put- 
 ting vague conceptions in the place of truth. To 
 every one who would preserve himself from such 
 delusions the great and solemn object of inqui- 
 ry ought to be, upon what ground his opinions 
 have been formed; have they been deduced 
 
48 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 from a full and candid investigation ? and do 
 they rest on such evidence as is sufficent to sat- 
 isfy a sound understanding that they are true ? 
 We have an interesting but melancholy picture 
 of human nature when we endeavour to trace 
 the principles by which minds of a serious 
 character are influenced in thus departing from 
 the simplicity of the truth. In some it would 
 appear to arise from a love of singularity, or a 
 desire of appearing wiser than their neigh- 
 bours ; in others from an ambition to be vi^ise 
 above what is written, accompanied generally 
 with a restless activity of mind and vividness 
 of imagination, while there has been very little 
 cultivation of the judgment. The peculiarity 
 in the actual mental condition of such persons is, 
 that they look only to one view of a question. 
 Having formed their opinions, probably on slight 
 and feeble grounds, their whole ingenuity is di- 
 rected to finding arguments in support of them 
 instead of rigidly examining their truth ; and 
 they do not allow themselves to consider fairly 
 the objections, or the views and principles 
 which are opposed to their own. This habit 
 of the mind is usually accompanied with a high 
 confidence in its own powers and a contempt 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 49 
 
 for those who differ ; and the persons who are 
 under its influence generally become, in a great 
 measure, inaccessible to argument, and almost 
 unsusceptible of the force of facts and consid- 
 erations which are opposed to their favourite 
 views. This arises from the habit of directing 
 their attention entirely to one view of a subject 
 or to one side of a question, while they put 
 away from them all that is opposed to it. For 
 when false opinions have once been allowed to 
 fasten on the mind, the evil is not confined to 
 the particular dogma which is embraced, but 
 an injury has been done to the mental economy, 
 which is apt to continue, or even to increase, and 
 to carry the individual more and more deeply 
 into error and delusion. When a man o/ a 
 certain activity of mind and energy of charac- 
 ter has thus framed for himself a system dif- 
 fering in some prominent manner from the es- 
 tablished opinions of those around him, the fa- 
 cility is equally remarkable with which he finds 
 zealous proselytes. These appear, in general, 
 to be influenced by principles similar to those 
 which have been referred to. There is a feel- 
 ing of intellectual superiority in appearing to 
 think more deeply or more acutely than others ; 
 E 
 
50 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 in pursuing discoveries beyond the reach of or- 
 dinary minds ; in standing, with the enhghtened 
 few, apart from the multitude, who are content 
 to tread the beaten path which their fathers trod 
 before them. Such a feeling influences the 
 judgment in a manner which will not be admit- 
 ted by those who most strongly manifest its pow- 
 er ; it does so chiefly by a misdirection of the 
 attention, that is, by leading them to consider 
 only their favourite system, without paying any 
 regard to the considerations which might show 
 it to be fallacious. 
 
 For preserving from all such perversions of 
 the understanding, and that pernicious influence 
 on the whole moral economy which follows, the 
 only security is in a close attention to the apos- 
 tle's exhortation, that to faith be added knowl- 
 edge. For this purpose the utmost care must 
 be habitually exercised that the mind be calm- 
 ly and steadily directed to an examination of the 
 truth, and the utmost anxiety felt to prevent it 
 from wandering into partial view^s or specula- 
 tions guided by favourite fancies. Such is the 
 discipline of a mind which seeks the truth in 
 the love of it ; and in the prosecution of its 
 inquiries, conducted with humility and candour, 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 51^ 
 
 it is encouraged to look for an influence from 
 Heaven which will preserve it from error, and 
 prove to it strength, and light, and wisdom. 
 
 Though it thus appears that all true faith 
 must be founded on knowledge, there is a pe- 
 culiar propriety and beauty in the order in which 
 the mental operations are staled by the apostle ; 
 first faith, then virtue, and then knowledge. 
 For the first step in this great mental process 
 is that frame or disposition of mind in which 
 it is open to receive truth in simplicity and can- 
 dour ; to take a full view of all its parts, and to 
 give full weight to all its evidences ; and with an 
 earnest determination to apply it to all those 
 purposes which it ought to answer in the regu- 
 lation of the whole character. When, with such 
 a disposition of mind, the attention is directed 
 to a diligent inquiry after the particular truths, 
 the individual is in that state of discipline in 
 which he is most likely to prosecute the mo- 
 mentous inquiry with success. He is so ac- 
 cording to the established laws of the mind, by 
 which such a sincere and candid love of truth 
 naturally leads to the discovery of it in every 
 department of knowledge. But, besides this, 
 in the search after Divine truth a special di- 
 
52 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 rection is promised to the sincere and humble 
 mind. This appears to be the condition so of- 
 ten referred to in the Scriptures as receiving 
 the truth "as a httle child;" and it appears to 
 be that which is intended by our Lord when he 
 says, " if any man will do his will, he shall know 
 of the doctrines whether they be of God." Such 
 a man enters on the great inquiry with a deep 
 feeling of its momentous importance, and a sin- 
 cere and simple desire to discover the whole 
 truth ; and he adds to this an earnest determi- 
 nation to press home each truth to all its conse- 
 quences on his own moral condition ; to take it 
 as the guide of his life, and the regulating prin- 
 ciple in the moral economy of his heart and of 
 his mind; this is he who adds to his faith vir- 
 tue, and to virtue knowledge. 
 
 The mental attributes which have been re- 
 ferred to in the preceding observations, consist- 
 ing of faith, virtue, and knowledge, may be con- 
 sidered as those which form the foundation of 
 Christian character ; but they are the foundation 
 only, not the real structure of which that char- 
 acter consists. From the consideration of them, 
 therefore, we are naturally led to that influence 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 
 
 which they ought to produce upon the moral 
 feelings of the rnind and the regulation of the 
 whole character and. conduct, without which 
 knowledge is vain and faith is barren. This 
 most important part of the subject is divided by 
 the apostle into two branches; the, one relating 
 to the moral condition of the individual himself, 
 consisting of temperance, patience, and godli- 
 ness ; the other having respect to his conduct 
 to his fellow-men, in brotherly kindness and 
 charity. All these qualities are required to be 
 in constant and harmonious operation to consti- 
 tute a healthy moral condition ; and there is 
 either self-deception, or a pretension of what is 
 not really felt, when there is the appearance or 
 profession of some of them without the harmony 
 of the whole. Though a man may show much 
 conduct having the characters of brotherly kind- 
 ness and charity, there is a radical error in the 
 mental economy if these are not founded upon 
 faith and knowledge, and accompanied by tem- 
 perance, patience, and godliness. And, what- 
 ever display there may be of knowledge, these 
 are but empty names unless they are accom- 
 panied by temperance and patience, and lead to 
 brotherly kindness and charity. 
 E2 
 
54 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 III. Therefore, continues the apostle, as the 
 first great result of your faith, virtue, and knowl- 
 edge, add Temperance, 
 
 In ascertaining the precise meaning of such 
 an expression as this, derived from an ancient 
 language, our proper course appears to be to 
 refer to the meaning affixed to it by ancient 
 writers who wrote in the same language. When 
 we do so in regard to this expression, we find 
 that the ancient writers on moral science at- 
 tached great importance to a distinction which 
 they made between temperance and continence. 
 By continence they expressed the mental con- 
 dition of a man who has irregular desires or in- 
 clinations, but does not yield to the gratification 
 of them ; by temperance the condition of him 
 whose desires and inclinations themselves are 
 under due regulation and control. When we 
 assume this, therefore, as the ancient and pre- 
 cise meaning of the term, a subject is opened 
 to us of great extent and supreme importance , 
 the discipline of the heart. It is most appro- 
 priately placed where it stands in the enumera 
 tion of moral qualities before us, as the first 
 step in that great moral process in which con 
 sists the health of the soul. Faith, virtue, and 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 55 
 
 knowledge are the means ; and these constitute 
 mental exercises which may be called intellect- 
 ual. Brotherly kindness and charity, again, ex- 
 press attributes of character in a man's conduct 
 towards his fellow-men. But between these 
 there is placed a class of moral qualities, in 
 which consists his own sound condition as a 
 moral being, and on which depends the aspect 
 in which he is viewed in the sight of Him who 
 " looketh on the heart ;" these are enumerated 
 by the apostle under the heads of temperance, 
 patience, and godliness. Among the three 
 classes of qualities, however, there is a close 
 and most important relation. Faith, virtue, and 
 knowledge, we have seen, are connected with 
 processes of the mind over which we have a 
 certain degree of voluntary power, and in the 
 due exercise of them much depends upon this 
 power being exerted in a steady and persevering 
 manner. The result of this is to bring us under 
 the agency of certain truths relating to things 
 not seen, which have a direct tendency, under 
 Divine influence, to produce most important ef- 
 fects upon the moral condition of our own minds 
 and hearts. When this great end has been ac- 
 complished, a certain conduct and character ful- 
 
56 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 low, not by any distinct and separate effort, but 
 as a natural and indispensable consequence : the 
 tree being nnade good, the fruit will be good; 
 the fountain being purified, the water will be 
 pure. 
 
 The consideration of temperance, therefore, 
 leads us to a subject of the deepest importance, 
 the regulation of the heart ; the cultivation of 
 a pure and healthy state of the desires, affec- 
 tions, and dispositions of the mind, those prin- 
 ciples within from which our external conduct 
 and character proceed. " Keep thy heart," 
 says an inspired writer, " with all diligence, for 
 out of it are the issues of life." 
 
 The subject must be one of supreme import 
 ance in the estimation of every man who feels 
 what that is which constitutes a state of moral 
 purity in the eye of God. Man can judge of 
 man by his external character alone, but ''the 
 Lord looketh on the heart;" and there may be 
 much of irregular desire, unsubdued passion, 
 and impure imagination within, which are not 
 allowed to show themselves in the conduct. 
 There are various principles by which this may 
 be accounted for. In restraining the conduct 
 of men, much is done by the influence of hu- 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 57 
 
 man laws, much by a regard to health and in*- 
 terest, and much more still by our regard to the 
 opinions of other men, our desire of their ap- 
 probation and esteem, our fear of their contempt, 
 indignation, or anger ; very much by a regard 
 to character, a principle of most extensive op- 
 eration with all descriptions and classes of men. 
 There may be even a certain operation of con- 
 science, or a conviction of what is morally right 
 and wrong, contending with an unsound inclina- 
 tion within and restraining the outward conduct, 
 while the desire is still cherished, and the en- 
 vious passion or impure imagination still holds 
 its place in the heart. But, if we really be- 
 lieve that every desire and imagination of the 
 heart is open to the eye of God, we cannot for 
 a moment suppose that this can be in his esti- 
 mation a sound moral condition. To constitute 
 moral purity, the heart must be pure ; the de- 
 sires and inclinations of the mind, and our af- 
 fections or dispositions towards God and towards 
 man must, equally with our external conduct, be 
 regulated by the indications of conscience, and 
 by a supreme regard to the Divine will. The 
 habitual direction of the thoughts should be such 
 as recognises the inspection of infinite purity. 
 
58 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 When the Psalmist, accordingly, prays the Eter- 
 nal One to scrutinize minutely his moral con- 
 dition, it is by saying, " Search me and know 
 my heart, try me and know my thoughts, and 
 see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead 
 me in the way everlasting." 
 
 But a mind which is not the slave either of 
 impure desire or malignant passion may be de- 
 voted to pursuits which relate only to present 
 things; to wealth, to power, to distinction; or 
 may be allowed to waste itself in the mere fri- 
 volities and trifles of the passing hour. A sound 
 condition of the heart and of the mind requires 
 not only the absence of unsound and irregular 
 emotions, but the careful culture of those which 
 are worthy of our high destiny as immortal 
 beings. It leads us to seek after spiritual bless- 
 ings and moral acquirements ; to " set our affec- 
 tions on things above, not on things on the 
 earth ;" it calls us to the cultivation of kind and 
 benevolent feelings towards men, and of love, 
 submission, and devotedness towards God ; of a 
 habitual desire to feel the impression of his 
 presence, and to have every action of life and 
 every desire and emotion of the mind regulated 
 by the sense of his holiness and purity. It leads 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 59 
 
 US to direct our minds, with a suitable degree 
 of atlenlion, to tlie various duties and responsi- 
 bilities which belong to the particular situation 
 in which we are placed, and the means and op- 
 portunities of usefulness which are commiited 
 to us ; our high responsibilities as parents and 
 as children, as masters or servants, as subjects, 
 as neighbours and friends, as possessed of tal- 
 ents which ought to be devoted to the glory of 
 God, or of wealth in regard to which we must 
 render to him a strict account of our steward- 
 ship : and, finally, it leads us to feel all the deep 
 responsibility of that culture of the soul which 
 alone can qualify and prepare it for the enjoy- 
 ment of God. 
 
 The cultivation of a state of mind which feels 
 as it ought such impressions as these, is closely 
 connected with a most important principle in 
 our mental constitution, the power which we 
 have over the regulation and direction of our 
 thoughts. We feel that we possess such a 
 power, however imperfectly we may exercise it. 
 We can direct the thoughts to any subject we 
 please ; we can continue them intensely directed 
 to it, so as to follow out the train of thinking 
 to which it gives rise ; and we can vary or dis- 
 
60 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 miss it at our will. But this requires a certain 
 effort, especially in tho^ who have been little ac- 
 custonaed to close and serious thinking. With- 
 out this eifort we leave the mind to be occu- 
 pied only with passing events, or to frame for 
 its own amusement vain delusions and phan- 
 toms of the imagination no better than dreams, 
 and as unprofitable. The due control and regu- 
 lation of this power over our thoughts lie at the 
 foundation of all true mental culture, and there 
 is nothing that makes a more essential differ- 
 ence between one man and another than a due 
 regulation of the thoughts and the subjects to 
 which they are habitually directed. In all men, 
 indeed, there are various subjects to which the 
 thoughts must be directed in the ordinary con- 
 cerns of life; and these must occupy a great 
 degree of attention in persons who may differ 
 widely from each other in the regulation of the 
 mind. But there are, to all, seasons of leisure 
 from these concerns, in which the mind seeks 
 • telief in some other occupation. It is then that 
 a man may read in his own thoughts both his 
 intellectual and his moral condition ; and if he 
 then attend to the habits of his mind with an 
 earnest desire to know the truth, he will find a 
 monitor within which will never deceive him. 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 61 
 
 It is true, indeed, that a due regulation of the 
 thoughts does not alone constitute a sound moral 
 condition ; but they are closely and immediately 
 connected. Correct and pure moral emotion 
 towards God, and a pure and healthy state of 
 moral feeling in, our own mental discipline in 
 general, are conditions of the mind over which 
 we have not a direct control ; that is, we cannot 
 call them up at our will. But, by the constitu- 
 tion of the mind, they are the natural result of 
 certain truths, and they are called forth by a 
 proper direction of the attention to those truths, 
 so that their natural effects may be produced 
 upon the moral feelings. In making this state- 
 ment we lose not sight of the important fact that 
 the influence of the Spirit of God is required to 
 bring home these truths with effect to a mind 
 which has never felt their power. But we abuse 
 this important doctrine when we talk of it in a 
 manner which turns aside our view from the 
 power which we possess over our own minds, 
 and the deep and solemn responsibility which 
 attaches to every man in the due exercise of it ; 
 the deep guilt which may be incurred by a neg- 
 lect of adequate attention to the truths which 
 are calculated to influence the moral condition of 
 F 
 
62 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 the mind, and, through it, to regulate the whole 
 character. However nnuch we want the inclina- 
 tion to exercise it, we feel that we have the pow- 
 er. We can direct our thoughts intensely and 
 seriously to God ; can contemplate his power 
 and wisdom, his purity and his holiness, and all 
 the solemnities of an eternal world and a judg- 
 ment to come. We can consider seriously the 
 various responsibilities and duties which belong 
 to our own condition in life, and can rigidly ques- 
 tion ourselves whether we are discharging them 
 in a manner which will bear the light of an eter- 
 nal day. We can in the same manner look with- 
 in, and strictly question ourselves respecting our 
 moral condition in the sight of Him who search- 
 es our hearts and knows our inmost thoughts. 
 We can thus cherish trains of thinking which 
 have a tendency to promote correct feelings of 
 the mind, and we can avoid or banish such as 
 have an opposite tendency. We can study with 
 diligence the word of God, and contemplate de- 
 liberately and carefully the various important 
 truths which are there disclosed to us, and their 
 tendencies both for the regulation of our minds 
 and the guidance of our conduct. This process 
 of the mind, indeed, requires a steady and per- 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 63 
 
 severing effort, and unceasing watchfulness ; 
 and every one who seriously enters upon the 
 great undertaking will feel continually his own 
 weakness and his need of a power that is not 
 in hinnself. But, while he humbly and earnest- 
 ly s^eeks for this alnnighty power to enlighten his 
 darkness, and, in his weakness, to give strength, 
 let him not forget the part which is his own ; let 
 him not lose sight of the full import of the apos- 
 tle's exhortation, calling upon him to "give all 
 diligence," that to his faith, virtue, and knowl- 
 edge he may add temperance. 
 
 IV. From the whole mental condition which 
 has been referred to in the preceding observa- 
 tions, another naturally arises, which, in fact, is 
 nearly allied to it ; to temperance must be add- 
 ed Patience. This, considered as a quality of 
 individual character, seems to imply a state of 
 mind which may be viewed in its important in- 
 fluence both in reference to God and to our re- 
 lations to our fellow-men. In reference to God, 
 it implies not only submission to, but a cordial 
 acquiescence in, the dispensations of his provi- 
 dence, as parts of a great system carried for- 
 ward by infinite wisdom, and calculated to an 
 
64 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 swer important purposes in his great scheme of 
 moral government. It leads us thus to rest in 
 the absolute conviction that the whole economy 
 of Providence is one great and magnificent sys- 
 tem of design, and order, and harmony. The 
 mental tranquillity arising from this conviction 
 will be felt both in relation to our ow^n concerns 
 and to those which are going on in the world 
 around us. In regard to the former, it leads us 
 to rest in a sense of our being in the hand of a 
 Father, infinite in wisdom as in goodness and 
 mercy, who has appointed us the place we are 
 to occupy in this state of moral discipline, and in 
 the assurance that it is the one best suited to 
 promote his great purposes and our own eter- 
 nal good. We are thus taught to consider the 
 peculiar duties which belong to our lot, and 
 how we may best glorify God in it, rather than 
 to compare it with the lot of others, and thus 
 discover sources of discontent. Even the anx- 
 ieties and troubles of life we are taught to re- 
 gard with similar feelings, knowing that, if used 
 as a means of moral discipline, they are condu- 
 cive to our highest improvement; that tribula- 
 tion, viewed and improved in this manner, 
 'worketh patience, and patience experigice, 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 65 
 
 and experience hope ; and that this hope maketh 
 not ashaaied." The peace arising from this con- 
 dition of the mind should also be experienced in 
 reference to the events which are taking place 
 in the world around us. Though " the heathen 
 should rage, and the people imagine a vain 
 thing," it directs us to a hand which controls 
 their movements; and, even when events as- 
 sume their most alarming aspect, we are still 
 led to contemplate the operation of that hand 
 with humble confidence, and to rest in the as- 
 surance that " the Lord reigneth." 
 
 The mental condition which is referable to 
 patience has also a most important relation to a 
 man's intercourse with his fellow-men. It is 
 nearly synonymous with meekness, and closely 
 allied to humility, and all the graces of charac- 
 ter which spring from it. It leads a man to 
 form a moderate estimate of his own rights and 
 pretensions, and to take the most enlarged esti- 
 mate of the rights and feelings of other men. 
 It leads him to be slow to take offence ; to put 
 the best construction on the conduct and motives 
 of others ; to seek peace, and often to submit to 
 injuries rather than violate it. Such a disposi- 
 tion has its reward in itself; the man who pos- 
 F2 
 
^6 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 sesses it passes quietly through life, borne far 
 above all its lesser disturbances and evils by 
 his habitual sense of those great concerns which 
 relate to the life which is to come. 
 
 V. In this striking enumeration of the quali- 
 ties of Christian character we haye seen that 
 temperance and patience relate to the internal 
 moral condition of the man. But there is most 
 appropriately placed in immediate connexion 
 with them that mental exercise by which they 
 are promoted and cherished. Faith, virtue, 
 and knowledge are of no value unless they be 
 productive of temperance and patience ; but 
 these essential qualities cannot be maintain- 
 ed in growth and progress without Godliness. 
 Wherefore, says the apostle, to your temperance 
 and patience add godliness. 
 
 We read in scripture of those who live with- 
 out God in the world ; that is, without any im- 
 pression of his character, without any sense of 
 his presence, without any regard to his law, 
 without any gratitude for his goodness, and with- 
 out any feeling of their dependance upon him 
 both for mercy and for spiritual strength. We 
 read of others who think of God as such a 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 67 
 
 one as themselves ; that is, bringing down his 
 high and holy attributes to a conformity with 
 their own degraded moral feelings. The state 
 of mind here designated by the term godliness 
 seems to be that which is opposed to both these 
 conditions. It implies forming high and worthy 
 conceptions of the Divine character, and habit- 
 ually cherishing these as the regulating princi- 
 ple of Qur own moral condition. The attributes 
 of God, indeed, are far above our full compre- 
 hension. They are higher than heaven ; what 
 can we do ? they are deeper than hell ; what 
 can we know ? the measure of them is longer 
 than the earth and broader than the sea ; who, 
 by searching, can find out God ? But from his 
 works and from his word we can derive such 
 knowledge of him as is sufficient for all the 
 purposes of our guidance, direction, and comfort 
 in this our state of moral discipline. From his 
 works around us we trace his power and wis- 
 dom, ^nd should learn to bow in humble adora 
 tion before him who called all things into being 
 by his word, and maintains them all in undevi 
 ating harmony. From the moral impressions 
 of our own minds, or, in other words, in the 
 light of conscience, we may read his perfections 
 
68 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 as a being of infinite holiness, and righteousness, 
 and truth. All these impressions are confirnned 
 and illustrated by his revealed word, where, in 
 addition to those great and overwhelming attri- 
 butes of his character, we learn his perfections 
 as a God of love, long-suffering and slow to 
 anger, not willing the death of a sinner, but that 
 he turn from his wickedness and live. We 
 learn the wondrous provision which he has 
 made for the recovery of his lost creatures ; and 
 are led to throw ourselves before his throne of 
 mercy, seeking his pardon and his grace to 
 help us in every lime of need ; seeking that 
 strength which he has promised to every one 
 that asks it to carry us forward in our state of 
 trial and discipline, and to prepare and purify 
 us for the immediate enjoyment of himself. 
 
 He who feels upon his mind such impres- 
 sions of the Divine character, and cultivates 
 them in a manner in any degree adequate to 
 their supreme importance, will naturally seek 
 after intercourse with God ; will desire to feel 
 the influence of his continual presence, and to 
 cherish the sense of his holiness as the regula- 
 ting principle of the character, and even of the 
 desires and imaginations of the heart. He will 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 69 
 
 find increasing delight in con tena plating the per- 
 fections of God. He will desire to continnit hinn- 
 self, with filial confidence and love, to the dis- 
 posal of his heavenly Father, and to make his 
 will the habitual rule of his whole conduct ; he 
 will look to his mercy as the only ground of 
 safety, and to his grace as the only source of 
 spiritual strength and the only means of progress 
 in those great concerns which pertain to an im 
 mortal being. Thus will he " dwell in the house 
 of the Lord all the days of his life, to behold 
 the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his 
 temple." 
 
 The disposition of mind which we have thu« 
 considered as being included under the term 
 godliness may be the habitual exercise of the 
 duly regulated mind. But there are certain 
 special means by which it is encouraged and 
 promoted ; and the chief of these is prayer. 
 Not that the Eternal Omniscient One requires to 
 be informed either of our wants or our desires. 
 All our necessities are better known to him 
 thaft they are to ourselves ; and the most secret 
 thoughts and inclinations of the heart are naked 
 and open before him. But he has specially 
 appointed the exercise of prayer as a means of 
 
70 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 communication with himself, and through which 
 he is pleased to dispense the blessings of his 
 grace. In addition to these considerations, the 
 exercise of prayer is calculated to bring a spe- 
 cial and peculiar benefit to ourselves. In the 
 midst of our ordinary engagements in life, in- 
 deed, we may elevate the soul to God ; but, 
 surrounded by the distractions of external things, 
 this must be done in a partial and unsatisfac- 
 tory manner. Our feeble and imperfect nature, 
 so much under the influence of the objects of 
 sense, requires every possible aid to enable us 
 to feel the due impression of the things of faith. 
 It requires us to withdraw from external things, 
 and in solitude and silence, and by solemn acts 
 of devotion, to bring ourselves, as it were, into 
 the immediate presence of God. There is a 
 power in the mind by which it thus brings down 
 upon itself an influence from the inner sanctu- 
 ary, a special impression of the perfections of 
 that incomprehensible One, who is thus dis- 
 closed to us as if by his more immediate pres- 
 ence. We realize his omniscient eye, and stand 
 in awe under the truth that he understandeth 
 our thoughts afar off. We feel the impression 
 of his holiness, and bow beneath the sense of 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 71 
 
 our own depravity and guilt. We feel the in- 
 fluence of his love, and throw ourselves upon 
 his mercy. We commit ourselves to his grace 
 to supply all our wants out of his fulness ; to 
 conduct us in safety through the dangers, the 
 difficulties, and the evils of life, and to carry us 
 forward in the course which leads to eternal 
 peace. Would we seek to feel our own moral 
 condition, and to fix the deep impression of an 
 inquiry of such eternal importance, we cannot 
 use a means of greater efficacy than putting it 
 into words in the presence of Him to whom it 
 is better known than it is to ourselves. Is there 
 any mental or moral habit which we feel to have 
 acquired a mastery that puts in peril the safety 
 of the soul, we cannot assail it in a more effi- 
 cient manner than by fully confessing it before 
 Him who seeth in secret, and asking from him 
 a might which alone is able to rescue us from 
 its power. Such is the province and such the 
 efficacy of prayer. It maintains our intercourse 
 with things which are not seen. It is the life, 
 the strength, and the nourishment of the soul ; 
 and it will be diligently cultivated, not as a mere 
 duty to be performed, but as a means of spirit- 
 ual life, by every one who feels the deep import 
 
72 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 of the truth that all the graces of the Christian 
 character must be founded upon and supported 
 by godliness. 
 
 VL The mental condition which has been 
 referred to in the preceding observations does 
 not waste itself in monkish solitude or in the 
 exercise of sublime contemplation. It tends at 
 once to lead the man who is the subject of it 
 to the relation in which he stands to his fellow- 
 men, and to the various important duties which 
 belong to the situation in which he is placed. 
 While it leads him to seek after purity of heart, 
 it also produces a character and conduct calcu- 
 lated to promote the good of others, the happi- 
 ness and comfort of all those with whom he 
 may be brought into contact in his passage 
 through this state of trial and discipline. Fol- 
 lowing out this as the natural or necessary result 
 of a healthy moral condition within, the apostle 
 next inculcates that to temperance, patience, 
 and godliness is to be added Brotherly 'kind- 
 ness. This seems to include the highest exer- 
 cise of all those affections which bind man to 
 his fellow-men ; leading us to feel towards each 
 other as brethren, t(t study the wants of others. 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 73: 
 
 to enter into their feelings, and, in as far as we 
 have power, to relieve their distresses. It tends 
 to pronnote a conduct distinguished not only by 
 the highest degree of integrity, but by habitual 
 complaisance, sympathy, and kindness ; and this 
 is not to be regulated by the condition of men 
 as to the things of this world, but by the high 
 and broad principle that, whatever may be their 
 lot as to external things, they are the children 
 of the same Almighty Father with ourselves, 
 inheriting the same nature, possessed of the 
 same feelings, and soon to enter on the same 
 state of external existence, when all the dis- 
 tinctions which exist in this world shall cease 
 for ever. It thus leads us to bring ourselves, 
 as it were, to the same rank and the same situ- 
 ation with them, and, with a brotherly interest, 
 to view their wants and their feelings as if they 
 were our own. The principles of conduct which 
 arise from this interchange of tender affections 
 are applicable to every situation of life, and 
 to all those exercises of justice, benevolence, 
 forbearance, and friendship which may be 
 called forth by our various relations to our fel- 
 low-men. It sets aside those artificial distinc- 
 tions by which, on the principles of the world, 
 G 
 
74 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 men are kept at such a distance from each oth- 
 er; and it sets aside, what is more powerful 
 still, the principle of selfishness, by which men 
 are made so acutely alive to everything that 
 concerns their own wants and their own feel- 
 ings, and so cool in what relates to the wants 
 and the feelings of others. It goes farther siill ; 
 for, according to the sublinnie maxims of the gos- 
 pel, it teaches us even to love our enemies, to 
 bless them that curse us, to do good to them 
 who despitefully use us. The benevolence of 
 the gospel thus raises us above the highest prin- 
 ciples to which we are led by the mere feeling 
 of human kindness; it leads to do good to the 
 evil and the unthankful ; and this is impressed 
 upon us by the highest of all motives, the imi- 
 tation of Him who is the giver of all good. Such 
 a character is exemplified, in the most striking 
 manner, in the whole life of Him who, for us 
 and for our salvation, humbled himself and be- 
 came a man of sorrows. He humbled himself 
 that he might mingle with mankind; that he 
 might enter into their wants; that he might 
 know their feelings ; that, having suffered being 
 tempted, he might succour them that are tempt- 
 ed. He has left us ati example that we should 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 75 
 
 follow his steps ; and he has left us precise in- 
 structions respecting the course by which this 
 may be dor^e, and the objects whom he has 
 specially committed to our care. These arc 
 the hungry, the naked, the stranger, the sick, 
 and the prisoner. He has even left us the sol- 
 emn intimation that, at the last and great day 
 of account, our moral condition will be estima- 
 ted by the actual influence which has been ha- 
 bitually manifested on our relations to our fel- 
 low-men, as done from a principle of love to 
 him and of devotedness to his service. While 
 we retire, therefore, from . the influence of ex- 
 ternal things, and devote ourselves to the high 
 undertaking which relates to the culture of the 
 moral being within ; while we feel the supreme 
 importance of cultivating temperance, patience, 
 and godliness as the qualities which are essen- 
 tial to our own moral condition, let us constantly 
 bear in mind that the direct tendency of these 
 is to lead us forth to our fellow-men, to seek 
 them in their hour of need, to minister to their 
 wants, to relieve their distresses, to instruct 
 the ignorant, to reclaim the wanderer, to sooth 
 the wounded spirit. For this exalted exercise 
 wealth is not necessary ; the humblest of those 
 
76 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 who breathe the spirit of the Redeemer may 
 «how much kindness and do much good to 
 others as humble as themselves. 
 
 But it is not in the abodes of poverty and 
 deprivation alone that the kindly feelings of the 
 heart may be called into exercise. In every 
 situation of life we may find openings for deeds 
 of kindness. In every rank and in every re- 
 lation this disposition will manifest itself by 
 gentleness and forbearance, by leading us to 
 study the feelings and consult the wants and 
 the desires of others, whether superiors, equals, 
 or dependants ; by repressing selfishness, and 
 by producing the habit of placing ourselves in 
 the situation of others, so as to make their feel- 
 ings and circumstances our own. Hence arise 
 the sympathies and exertions of Christian friend- 
 ship, and the habit of sacrificing personal feel- 
 ings and selfish interests, with all that inter- 
 change of the kindly affections which diffuses 
 happiness and comfort wherever it is exercised. 
 To all such exercise of those affections which 
 bind man to his fellow-men, the great principle 
 of Christian duty gives a strength, stability, and 
 permanence which never can arise from any 
 lower source. For much active benevolence 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 77 
 
 may and does arise from motives of an inf^or 
 kind, and from certain feelings of our nature 
 from which there results an actual and peculiar 
 enjoyment in the discharge of offices of sympa- 
 thy and kindness. Much real enjoyment arises 
 from doing good to those whom we esteem and 
 love, and from relieving the distresses of the 
 virtuous and worthy. There is an actual re- 
 ward in the return of gratitude, and in senti- 
 ments of respect and affection from those whom 
 we have made to feel a weight of obligation 
 which they cannot expect to repay. There is 
 something more directly personal or selfish in 
 exciting the love and gratitude of those wha 
 may be able to return our kindness, and feel 
 the^ most anxious desire to do so ; and, in re- 
 gard to cases of both descriptions, there is a 
 separate and peculiar enjoyment, or of actual 
 reward, in the approbation of other men, espe- 
 cially to those whom we respect, and in the- 
 general sentiments of regard and esteem whick 
 follow the man who makes himself known by 
 deeds of disinterested and active benevolence 
 But the great principle of Christian duty car- 
 ries us farther and higher ; it calls upon us to. 
 do good to the evil and the unthankful, and to. 
 G2 
 
78 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 do it in secret, looking not for any return, wbetli- 
 er of good offices, approbation, or gratitude, but 
 sinaply to the love and devotedness which we 
 owe to Him who is the Giver of all good. This, 
 accordingly, is the innportant distinction so stri- 
 kingly referred to in the word of God, " If ye 
 love them that love you, what reward have ye ; 
 do not even the publicans the same 1 And if 
 ye do good to them which do good to you, what 
 thanks have ye 1 for sinners also do even the 
 same. But I say unto you, love your enemies, 
 bless them that curse you, do good to them that 
 hate you, and pray for them which despite fully 
 use you and persecute you. That ye may be 
 the children of your Father who is in heaven, 
 for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on 
 the good, and sendeth the rain on the just and 
 on the unjust." Such is the great principle, en 
 joined by the apostle, of brotherly kindness. 
 That it may hold its true place in the economy 
 of a mind which is under the influence of faith, 
 it must arise from no partial or selfish motives, 
 no mere exercise of incidental feeling, nothing 
 that has respect either to our own emotions or 
 to the opinions of other men. It must be a 
 steady, consistent principle, pure in its origin 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 79 
 
 and uniform in its influence ; it must be found- 
 ed on faith and knowledge, and cherished by 
 temperance, patience, and godliness ; the willing 
 service of filial affection ; a steady, persevering 
 course of active usefulness, influenced simply 
 by the high spirit of love and devotedness to 
 him who has redeemed us to God by his blood. 
 Go, then, ye who profess to serve this Divine 
 Master, go and follow his steps. Deny your- 
 selves the selfish indulgences of those who 
 know no better portion ; go forth in search of 
 those who are in want of your kindness ; search 
 out the hungry, the naked, the sick, the stran- 
 ger, the prisoner; visit llie fatherless and the 
 widows in their affliction. Realize that eye 
 which follov^s you in all your wanderings among 
 the abodes of misery, disease, and suflering. 
 Realize continually that high principle of active 
 usefulness which flows from afiection to him 
 who died for you ; and realize continually the 
 value which he will assign to such a course of 
 active exertion, not, indeed, as a ground of ac- 
 ceptance, but as a test of devotedness and love ; 
 " Verily, I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have 
 done it unto one of the least of these my breth- 
 ren, ye have done it unto me." 
 
80 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 VII. The mere exercise of deeds of benevo- 
 lence and kindness does not alone constitute 
 that character towards our fellow-men which is 
 the true and proper result of a sound moral 
 condition. That state of the mind and of the 
 heart which is founded on faith and cherished 
 by temperance, patience, and godliness, will 
 extend its influence over all those feelings and 
 affections which refer to others in every rela- 
 tion of life. The condition of mind which thus 
 arises appears to constitute that which the apos- 
 tle inculcates when to brotherly-kiiidness he 
 calls upon us to add Charity. This must be 
 considered as claiming our deep and serious at- 
 tention, when it is here given as the finishing 
 quality of that character which is founded upon 
 and maintained by an habitual principle of devo- 
 tedness to God. The feelings which are in- 
 cluded under it are enumerated by the apostle 
 Paul, and are by him referred to the following 
 heads. (1 Cor. xiii.) 
 
 1. It suffer eth long, and is kind. It exer- 
 cises candour, indulgence, and forbearance in re- 
 gard to the conduct of others, entering into their 
 feelings with gentleness and kindness, and ma- 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 81 
 
 king every allowance for the circumstances in 
 which they are placed, and the nnotives and 
 feelings by which they are influenced. This 
 disposition prevents us from hastily assigning 
 unworthy motives or bad intentions ; it induces 
 us to take the most favourable view that we 
 possibly can of the conduct of other men, and, 
 even when appearances are against them, to en- 
 deavour anxiously to discover favourable views 
 and palliating circumstances. It thus leads us 
 to be slow to take offence, to be unwilling to 
 consider injuries as intended, to be above ta- 
 king offence at trifles, and, under real injuries, 
 to be easily conciliated and ready to forgive. 
 This temperament of the mind is strikingly 
 contrasted with one which we find so common 
 in the world — envious, suspicious, and censo- 
 rious — ready to be offended by trifles, to con- 
 strue accidental circumstances into intended in- 
 sults, and to impute to others bad intentions on 
 the most frivolous grounds. Such a disposition 
 is a source of wretchedness to those who are 
 under its power, and of unhappiness to all with 
 whom they are connected ; and we cannot sur- 
 vey the distress which arises from ill-regulated 
 temper without perceiving how much the pres- 
 
82 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 ent happiness of men would be increased by 
 the exercise of that charity which sufFereth 
 long and is kind. 
 
 The kindness which is here associated with 
 long-suffering seems to be distinct from the ex- 
 ercises of benevolence referred to under the 
 former division of the subject. It appears to 
 imply more particularly a tender regard to the 
 feelings of others, which makes us studious to 
 avoid wounding them by jealousies and suspi- 
 cions, by peevishness or fretfulness, and by al- 
 lowing trifles to ruffle the temper and disturb 
 the social harmony. Many who are not defi- 
 cient in deeds of benevolence or friendship are 
 apt to forget how much the exercise of true 
 kindness consists in gentleness, meekness, and 
 tender consideration for the feelings of others ; 
 and it is melancholy to observe how much real 
 unhappiness often exists in families and in com- 
 munities which would be effectually prevented 
 by the Christian grace of kindness. 
 
 2. Charity envieth not. Envy looks with 
 displeasure on the real or imagined happiness 
 of others, leading men to compare their own 
 situation with that of their neighbours, and to 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 83 
 
 covet Circumstances in their lot which seem to 
 render it happier than their own. It is thus 
 founded on discontent, a state of mind decidedly 
 opposed to sound Christian feeling; for this 
 teaches us to consider our lot, in all its circum- 
 stances, as assigned to us by the Great Disposer 
 of all things, and precisely adapted to the place 
 which it is his pleasure we shall hold in this 
 state of moral discipline. Envy, therefore, is 
 not only injurious to a sound state of feeling to- 
 wards other men, but is also destructive of our 
 own moral culture ; for it tends to withdraw 
 our attention from our actual condition as re- 
 sponsible beings, leading us to forget, amid 
 fruitless longings afler imagined good, the high 
 responsibilities which pertain to our own con- 
 dition, and thus waste the precious hours which 
 are given us to prepare for the life which is to 
 come. Christian charity, therefore, teaches us 
 to rejoice in the good of others ; in their hap- 
 piness, their honour, and their reputation. It 
 is opposed to detraction, and leads us to allow 
 to other men, though rivals or even enemies, 
 all praise, honour, and reputation that are justly 
 due to them ; to avoid everything calculated to 
 injure their good name or to lower them in the 
 
84 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 public estimation, and to defend them against 
 such attempts when we find them made by 
 others. 
 
 3. In the exercise of that correct state of 
 moral feeling which we owe to other men, we 
 are very much impeded by the false and exag- 
 gerated views which we are apt to form of our 
 own importance, and the undue weight which 
 we attach to our own feelings. In opposition 
 to this, Christian charity leads us to view our- 
 selves with humility, and this naturally induces 
 us to view others with indulgence, candour, and 
 justice. Accordingly, the apostle adds, " Char- 
 ity vaunteth not itself; is not puffed up^ The 
 immediate and natural result of this humble, 
 calm, and considerate view of our own condi- 
 tion and our own feelings in reference to those 
 of other men, is a general propriety and deco- 
 rum of behaviour towards them ; " doth not be- 
 have itself unseemly. ^^ A man acting under the 
 influence of this law of Christian charity con- 
 ducts himself with a correct and judicious re- 
 gard to the situation of life in which he is placed; 
 he does not push himself into notice or prefer 
 himself to others ; but is, in all circumstances 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 85 
 
 of life, to his superiors respectful, to his equals 
 accommodating and courteous, to his inferiors 
 kind, gentle, and considerate. He is thus pre- 
 served from those improprieties and absurdities 
 of conduct into which men are led by pride and 
 vanity, putting themselves out of their proper 
 place, and losing sight of the proprieties of con- 
 duct adapted to their situation ; involving them- 
 selves with matters in which they have no con- 
 cern ; and, by a disposition restless, meddling, 
 and conceited, at once destroying their own 
 peace and injuring the peace of others. 
 
 4. The propensity in human nature which 
 has the chief influence in separating man from 
 man, and disturbing all the harmonies of life, is 
 Selfishness, By one device or another men are 
 ever seeking to promote their own interest, their 
 own gratification, their own ease, reputation, or 
 distinction. Hence arise the jealousies, suspi- 
 cions, and envies with which they view those 
 who are likely to interfere with them in their 
 favourite pursuits, and those who in similar pur- 
 suits have been more fortunate than themselves. 
 Christian charity strikes at the root of this pro- 
 pensity, so wide in its extent, so destructive in 
 H 
 
86 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 its influence ; " charity seeketh not her own^ 
 It would lead us into a field far too extensive 
 for our present purpose were we to endeavour 
 to trace the manner in which selfishness enters 
 into all our pursuits, and the extent to which it 
 interferes with that spirit of kindness to our fel- 
 low-men to which so much importance is at- 
 tached in the great practical rules of the gospel 
 of Christ. Every one has only to watch mi- 
 nutely his own conduct to discover in how 
 many instances a regard to his own interest, 
 comfort, or distinction interferes with the kindly 
 feelings and the offices ol kindness which he 
 owes to others ; how often he is prevented by 
 mere indolence, or a selfish regard to his own 
 ease, from doing good in various ways which 
 would cost him nothing but a little exertion; 
 how often a regard to his own feelings inter- 
 feres with what is due to the feelings of other 
 men ; and how different the conduct of all of 
 us would very often be did we deliberately 
 place ourselves in the situation of others, and 
 calmly view their circumstances and their feel- 
 ings, as if they were in our situation and we in 
 theirs. There is not, in the high requirements 
 of the gospel, a principle of more essential im- 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 87 
 
 portance than this. When our Lord says, " if 
 any man will be my disciple, let him deny him- 
 self," he calls us not to mortifications or austeri- 
 ties calculated only to inflict suffering on" our- 
 selves ; but he calls us, and calls us " as one 
 having authority," to renounce all those selfish 
 indulgences and selfish humours, and that pur- 
 suit of selfish interest, which interfere with the 
 zealous and extensive exertions for the comfort 
 and the good of others, to which he attaches so 
 important a place as a test of our affection to him 
 and our devotedness to his service. In such a 
 coarse he has left us a bright example, and he 
 calls us to follow his steps. He calls us to en- 
 ter with kindly interest into the wants and feel- 
 ings of our brethren, and, in many instances, to 
 sacrifice our own interest, ease, indulgence, and 
 inclinations to theirs. By the high sanction of 
 his own example we are exhorted to have the 
 same mind in us which was also in him ; and 
 this exhortation is enforced by the solemn de- 
 nunciation, that " if any man have not the Spirit 
 of Christ, he is none of his." 
 
 5. The mind that is under the influence of 
 Christian charity " is not easily provoked, and 
 
88 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 it thinketh no evilP Like its Divine Master, it 
 is meek and lowly, not apt to be offended by 
 trifles, and, under real injuries, patient and for- 
 giving. It is slow and cautious in forming an 
 unfavourable opinion of others, or in imputing 
 to them bad designs or bad intentions ; and, 
 consequently, it is not apt, as so many are, 
 to conjure up to itself imaginary injuries and 
 imaginary enemies. That mental condition 
 which we usually distinguish by the name 
 meekness, quietness, and magnanimity of mind, 
 is equally conducive to a man's own comfort 
 and to the sound state of his moral feelings to- 
 wards other men. It carries with it its own re- 
 ward in the tranquillity which it brings to us in 
 our passage through this scene of tumult and 
 strife. While it is peculiarly favourable to the 
 culture of the moral being, it tends also to pre- 
 serve from numerous evils, mortifications, and 
 distractions to which the opposite character ex- 
 poses. " Learn of me," says our Lord, '* for I 
 am meek and lowly in heart, and^ye shall find 
 rest to your souls." 
 
 6. This catalogue of Christian graces is stri 
 kingly concluded by a reference to that great 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 89 
 
 and broad principle of Christian feeling which 
 lies, in a great nneasure, at the foundation of the 
 whole : " charity rejoiceth not in iniquity, hut 
 rejoiceth in the truth.^^ Viewing himself and 
 all around him as immortal beings in their pas- 
 sage to an eternal world, the man of charity has 
 for his first and great anxiety respecting his fel- 
 low-men to see them walking in the truth ; to 
 find among them the culture of those qualities 
 which mark the healthy condition of the moral 
 being, and its preparation for the solemn reali- 
 ties of an eternal world. When brought into 
 comparison with those great concerns, all pres- 
 ent things sink into insignificance. He can de- 
 rive, therefore, no satisfaction from moral evil, 
 even though it may contribute to his own bene- 
 fit, as, in the transactions of life, it may often 
 do. For how often may it happen that we de 
 rive advantage from the misconduct of rivals, 
 and may be tempted to feel a secret satisfaction 
 at the loss of character on the part of those who, 
 perhaps, have stood in the way of our favourite 
 pursuits, either of interest, reputation, or com- 
 fort. How often might we turn to our advan- 
 tage the quarrels of others, and thus be tempted 
 to foster rather than to heed the feelings from 
 H2 
 
90 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 which they arose. But whatever personal ben- 
 efit we might derive from it, the man of charity 
 cannot view with satisfaction what is displeas- 
 ing to God or destructive of the moral condi- 
 tion of an immortal being, and he will gladly 
 sacrifice his own present feelings and present 
 advantage for the high achievement of rescu- 
 ing a soul from death. In this great object he 
 will exert himself to instruct the ignorant, to 
 reclaim the vicious, to win even his enemies 
 by deeds of kindness, to prevent differences, to 
 heal divisions, and to bring together as brethren 
 those who have assumed the attitude of hatred 
 and defiance. Feeling in himself all the su- 
 preme importance of '* things not seen," it will 
 be his habitual and earnest desire to promote 
 among all around him a character and conduct 
 governed by a sense of the overwhelming inter- 
 est of a life that is to come. 
 
 7. The enumeration of those qualities of the 
 mind which constitute Christian charity is re- 
 capitulated by the apostle in four expressions 
 of a most comprehensive character ; " it heareih 
 all things; believeth all things; hopeih all 
 things; endureth all things.'*^ The first of 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 91 
 
 these expressions would have been more prop- 
 erly rendered, " coverelh all things ;" and, when 
 they are taken together, they display in a few 
 words the great peculiarities of that conduct 
 and character towards our fellow-men which 
 ought to arise out of the gospel of Christ. The 
 man who is under its influence seeks to cover 
 the faults of other men, to defend them against 
 misrepresentation of calumny, and, in all his re- 
 lations towards men, to treat them with meek- 
 ness, forbearance, and kindness. He is dis- 
 posed to form the most favourable opinion of 
 others that circumstances will at all allow ; and, 
 when personally injured, to give the utmost 
 possible weight to concessions or explanations ; 
 to be easily conciliated and ready to forgive. 
 This justice and indulgence which he appHes to 
 the conduct of men he extends also to their 
 opinions, giving to their sentiments and state- 
 ments a fair, calm, and attentive hearing, and 
 judging them with impartiality and candour. 
 Farther, in regard to the character of other men, 
 he does not, without great cause, depart from 
 the favourable opinion of what may be done 
 for their improvement, but takes advantage of 
 every hopeful cii«cumstance, and is thereby en- 
 
92 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 couraged to persevere in his efforts to do ihem 
 good. In the prosecution of this high design 
 he puts up with much waywardness, absurdity, 
 and folly on the part of those whom he seeks 
 to benefit, not considering his own comfort or 
 honour, but the great object which he has in 
 view in the good of others ; and in this he per- 
 severes with constancy, however unpromising 
 the circumstances may appear as to his ultimate 
 success, or however unproductive of comfort to 
 himself in the prosecution of them. 
 
 Such, then, is the exercise of the kindly feel- 
 ings towards our fellow-men which is repre- 
 sented as indispensable to that chatacter which 
 is founded on faith, virtue, and knowledge, and 
 cherished by temperance, patience, and godli- 
 ness. The importance attached to it in the 
 word of God cannot be represented more stri- 
 kingly than in the words of the apostle, where 
 he teaches us that without it knowledge is vain 
 and faith is barren ; and that all acquirements 
 and endowments, however high their preten- 
 sions, are but an empty sound, which can never 
 profit. " Though I speak with the tongues of 
 men and of angels, and have not charity, I am 
 become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 93 
 
 And though I have the gift of prophecy, and 
 understand all mysteries and all knowledge ; 
 and though I have all faith, so that I could re- 
 move mountains, and have not charity, I am 
 nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to 
 feed the poor, and though I give my body to be 
 burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me no- 
 thing And now abideth faith, hope, 
 
 charity, these three, but the greatest of these is 
 Charity." 
 
 The whole subject, thus briefly and imper- 
 fectly delineated, is full of important instruction, 
 which, in an especial manner, claims the atten- 
 tion of two descriptions of persons. 
 
 I. Are there those who maintain that the doc- 
 trines of the Gospel are unfavourable to morali- 
 ty, because they offer acceptance in the sight of 
 God to faith alone ? Let such put away from 
 them those flimsy and distorted conceptions of 
 Christian truth by which they voluntarily de- 
 lude themselves. Let them look at the record 
 of God in all its harmony and consistency, in 
 all its extent and all its purity. Let them see 
 it requiring a higher tone of morals than ever 
 
94 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 was contemplated in the most exalted of human 
 standards ; let them see it enjoining as an indis- 
 pensable part of Christian morality all those dis- 
 positions and actions towards our fellow-men 
 which are included under the comprehensive 
 terms of brotherly kindness and charity. Let 
 them contemplate it as extending its high and 
 pure requirements even to the thoughts, desires, 
 and inclinations of the heart, and demanding 
 purity within. Let them consider calmly and 
 deliberately these important truths, and say, as 
 candid and honest men, what estimate they form 
 of the morality of the gospel. 
 
 IL Let those who profess to be under the in- 
 fluence of the truths which are the objects of 
 faith see that they truly feel and really mani- 
 fest their power. It is easy to assume Ihe 
 phraseology of religion ; it is easy to acquire a 
 knowledge of its doctrines, and to argue acute- 
 ly and ingeniously on points of faith. It is not 
 difficult to practise with decorum its rites and 
 forms, to observe its ordinances, and to show 
 all that zeal for the externals of religion by 
 which a man acquires a certain character among 
 his fcUow-men. It is easy, also, to those who 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 95 
 
 have ihe means, and it is gratifying to feelings 
 which exist in the generality .of mankind, to 
 practise much benevolence, and to show much 
 real concern for alleviating the distresses of 
 other men. But much of all this, it is to be 
 feared, may and does exist, while there is none 
 of that discipline of the heart without which 
 knowledge is vain and faith an empty name. 
 It is to the heart that the eye of Him looketh 
 who cannot be deceived by external things; 
 and it is when a man reiires from all consider- 
 ation of the opinions of his fellow-men, and looks 
 seriously into those processes of his mind wliich 
 are open to the Divine inspection ; it is then 
 ihat he may discover his own moral condition, 
 and may learn, if he seriously wishes to know 
 the solemn truth, what he really is in the eye 
 of God. JjCt him inquire what is the habitual 
 current of his thoughts ; what the prevailing ob- 
 ject of his desires ; what the governing motives 
 of his conduct ; what place among them have 
 the things of time, and what the things of eter- 
 nity ; what influence have the motives and prin- 
 ciples of the world, and what the great princi- 
 ple of dcvotedness to God. It is thus that he 
 may icarn those " secrets of the heart" which 
 
96 CHRISTIAN FAITH AND 
 
 at present are hidden from all hunaan eyes, but 
 will be fully revealed at the great day of account, 
 and rigidly tried by the pure and holy standard 
 of the law of God. The important truth, there- 
 fore, cannot be too often or too seriously con- 
 templated by every one who feels the over- 
 whelming interest of eternal things, that, what- 
 ever be his faith and whatever his knowledge ; 
 whatever be his character in the eye of man, 
 and whatever his real and active usefulness to 
 others, there is a distinct and most serious ob- 
 ject of attention which immediately concerns 
 the safety of the soul ; and this is, that, while 
 he cultivates faith and knowledge, he shall give 
 all diligence to add temperance, patience, and 
 godliness. Without these, while he greatly ben- 
 efits others, he may inflict irreparable injury on 
 himself; amid many good works, he may neg- 
 lect that discipline of the heart in which is in- 
 volved his own safety as a moral being. 
 
 But, while this first and great concern receives 
 ' the attention which it demands from every im- 
 mortal being, let it never be forgotten that there 
 is a fatal error in the mental economy unless 
 the fruits are manifest in every part of the con- 
 duct and character. In this respect the high 
 
CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 97 
 
 principle bf Christian faith ought to maintain its 
 superiority over all other nnotives and princi- 
 ples, however honourable these may be in them- 
 selves. The great question to those who pro- 
 fess to be under its power is, ** What do ye more 
 than others ?" Are there men who, from kind- 
 ness of natural feeling, or those principles of 
 honour and integrity which prevail in the world, 
 perform many deeds of exalted integrity, benev- 
 olence, or kindness? the man of faith must 
 do more. Are there those who, on such prin- 
 ciples, show much mildness, forbearance, and 
 forgiveness? the man of faith must do more. 
 It is vain to talk of faith and godliness while 
 an inconsistent conduct, a contracted selfish- 
 ness, or an unsubdued temper gives the empty 
 profession the lie. When the great principle 
 really exists within, it will be manifest by its 
 fruits ; and when it is thus exhibited in all its 
 consistency and all its power, it is then that it 
 challenges the conviction of those who oppose 
 themselves, and compels them to acknowledge 
 its reality and its truth, and to " glorify our Fa- 
 ther who is in heaven." 
 I 
 
m^ 
 
CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 THE MIND. 
 
 ADDRESSED TO THE YOUNG. 
 
The substance of the following Essay was originally 
 published as a Rectorial Address, delivered in Marischal 
 Coilege, Aberdeen, and it was printed by desire of the 
 Senatus Academicus. It is now republished, with con- 
 siderable enlargement in the practical parts, and with 
 the oniission of those observations which had an iniiXie- 
 diate reference to the place and the circumstances in 
 which it was delivered. 
 Edinburgh, December, 1836 
 
CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 OP 
 
 THE MIND. 
 
 If we are asked what constitutes the great- 
 est difference between one man and another, 
 considered either as intellectual or as moral be- 
 ings, we cannot hesitate to answer, the culture 
 and the discipline of the mind. Under the in- 
 fluence of those external things by which we 
 are so habitually occupied, our consideration is 
 too little directed to the wondrous essence of 
 which we are conscious within. But when we 
 turn our serious attention to the economy of 
 the mind, we perceive that it is capable of a 
 variety of processes, of the most remarkable 
 and most important nature. We find, also, 
 that we can exert a voluntary power over these 
 processes, by which we control, direct, and reg- 
 ulate them at our will ; and that, when we do 
 12 
 
102 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 not exert this power, the mind is left to the in- 
 fluence of external impressions or casual trains 
 of association, often unprofitable and often friv- 
 olous. We thus discover that the mind is the 
 subject of culture and of discipline, which, when 
 duly exercised, must produce the most impor- 
 tant results on our condition as rational and 
 moral beings; and that the exercise of them 
 involves a responsibility of the most solemn 
 kind, which no man can possibly put away from 
 him. 
 
 Youth is the season peculiarly adapted for 
 this great undertaking, while the attention is 
 not yet engrossed by the distractions of active 
 life, and while those injurious habits have not 
 yet been formed which are so often fatal to the 
 health of the mind. Allow me, then, to direct 
 your earnest attention to this high concern, the 
 highest and the most important that can engage 
 your anxious care. While life is opening be- 
 fore you with all its fair prospects and all its 
 promises of happiness, learn to feel the supreme 
 interest of the discipline of the mind ; study the 
 remarkable power which you can exercise over 
 its habits of attention and its trains of thought ; 
 and cultivate a sense of the deep importance of 
 
OP THE MIND. 103 
 
 exercising this power according to the principles 
 of wisdom and of virtue. 
 
 You are at present eagerly engaged in pros- 
 ecuting useful and important acquirements in 
 various branches of knowledge, but all that is 
 furnished by early study gives only the elements 
 for forming the mind, and for gradually training 
 it to that intellectual vigour and moral discipline 
 by which it may be prepared for farther and 
 greater pursuits. While, therefore, you prose- 
 cute with ardour the various departments of sci- 
 ence, you will remember that a higher and 
 more extended object is still before you. You 
 will feel the necessity of rising above the de- 
 tails of individual sciences, to those results 
 to which all science ought to combine in lead- 
 ing us, the culture of understanding itself, and 
 the practical application of those rules by which 
 the mind may be directed towards the discovery 
 of truth, and by which the truth so discovered 
 may be applied to the actual duties and respon- 
 sibilities of life. You will learn to estimate the 
 value of that greatest of all acquirements, a 
 well-regulated mind, and to study with anxious 
 
 are what those qualities are which constitute 
 
104 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 such a mind, and what are the particular pur- 
 suits, and the mode of conducting them, which 
 are best adapted for the high attainment. You 
 will learn to estimate the benefits which arise 
 from such a regulation of the mind ; to see how, 
 in every inquiry, it tends to conduct us to truth ; 
 how it leads the mind to apply itself to various 
 pursuits with a degree of attention adapted to 
 their real value, and to follow out the inductions 
 of each to its last and highest object, the cul- 
 ture of the moral being. ^ 
 
 Amid the most zealous prosecution of knowl- 
 edge, you will learn to press forward to those 
 great and ultimate truths by which science 
 ought to lead us to the Omnipotent and Eternal 
 Cause. Philosophy fails of its noblest object 
 if it does not lead us to God ; and, whatever 
 may be its pretensions, that is unworthy of the 
 name of science which professes to trace the 
 sequences of nature, and yet fails to discover, 
 as if marked by a sunbeam, the mighty hand 
 which arranged them all ; which fails to bow in 
 humble adoration before the power and wisdom, 
 the harmony and beauty, which pervade all the 
 works of Him who is Eternal. 
 
 Judging upon these principles, we are taught 
 
OF THE MIKD. 105 
 
 to feel that life has a value beyond the mere ac- 
 quirement of knowledge and the mere prosecu- 
 tion of our own happiness. This value is found 
 in those nobler pursuits which qualify us for 
 promoting the good of others, and in those ac- 
 quirements by which we learn to become mas- 
 ters of ourselves. It is to cultivate the intel- 
 lectual part of the attainment of truth, and to 
 train the moral being for the solemn purposes 
 of life, when life is viewed in its relation to a 
 life which is to come. These exalted pursuits 
 are not more conducive to the great objects 
 which are presented to us as moral and responsi- 
 ble beings, than they are calculated to promote 
 our own happiness and peace. Constituted as 
 we are, indeed, and placed in certain relations to 
 objects of sense and to other sentient beings, 
 we are in some degree under the influence of 
 external things. But the powers which wield 
 the destiny of our happiness are chiefly within. 
 It is there that we trace the elements of those 
 noble faculties which, if duly cultivated, se- 
 cure at once our usefulness and our happiness; 
 and it is there that we find the germes of those 
 vulture passions whose dominion is worse than 
 Eastern bondage, and under whose relentless 
 
106 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 tyranny a nnan who is master of the world may 
 be himself a slave. In the conquest of these 
 consists the highest dignity of our nature, and 
 in the control and subjugation of them is our 
 only solid peace. 
 
 Among the phenomena presented by human 
 character, none will strike you as more remark- 
 able than the various objects which men pro 
 pose to themselves in life. In all, a certain 
 vision of happiness seems to float over the 
 scene ; but how various are the courses by 
 which the phantom is pursued, and how many 
 enter upon the pursuit without proposing to 
 themselves any definite course at all. They 
 never seem distinctly to put to themselves the 
 question in what the imagined enjoyment con- 
 sists, and what are the elements by which it is 
 constituted. One expects to find it in wealth, 
 another in power, a third in rank, a fourth in 
 fame, while not a few are found to seek it in a 
 mere round of excitement, perishing with the 
 hour which gave it birth. Thus a large propor- 
 tion of mankind pass through life pursuing an 
 imagined good which too often eludes their 
 grasp, or which, even after it has been attained. 
 
OF THE MIND. 107 
 
 is found incapable of giving satisfaction. They 
 live upon the opinions of other men, and are 
 thus left at the mercy of a thousand external 
 circumstances, by which the good they had 
 so long pursued is blasted in the enjoyment. 
 They enter upon life without forming any def- 
 inite conception of what the great business of 
 life ought to be ; and, when they perceive that 
 it is drawing to a close, they look back with as- 
 tonishment to find that it has passed over them 
 like a dream ; that they cannot say for what 
 purpose they have lived, or, perhaps, are com- 
 pelled to acknowledge that they have lived in 
 vain. 
 
 But life presents another aspect when we 
 view it as a scene of moral discipline ; when 
 we look not at its pains and its pleasures, but 
 Its high duties and its solemn responsibilities ; 
 and at the discipline of the heart, from which 
 springs a true and solid happiness which exter- 
 nal circumstances cannot destroy. All then is 
 defined and clear. The object is definite, and 
 the way to it is marked as by a light from heav- 
 en. Each step that is gained is felt to be a 
 real and solid acquirement, and each imparts a 
 sense of moral health, which strengthens eveiy 
 
108 CLLTIRE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 principle within for farther progress. I know 
 that I carry your best feelings along with me 
 when I thus call your attention to that course of 
 life which alone is adapted to its real and sol- 
 emn importance, which alone is worthy of those 
 powers of our intellectual and moral nature 
 with which we have been endowed by Him who 
 formed us. In the culture of these is involved 
 not only a duty and a responsibility, but a source 
 of the purest and the most refined enjoyment. 
 For there is a power which is calculated to car- 
 ry a man through life without being the sport 
 and the victim of every change that flits across 
 the scene ; this power resides in a sound moral 
 discipline and a well-regulated mind. 
 
 The foundation of all mental discipline, in the 
 words of an eminent writer,* consists in the 
 " power of mastering the mind." It is in hav- 
 ing the intellectual processes under due regula- 
 tion and control, and being thus able to direct 
 them, upon sound and steady principles, to the 
 acquisition of useful knowledge and the dis- 
 covery of truth. Here we are, in the first place, 
 reminded of that remarkable power which we 
 possess over the succession of our thougto. 
 
 * M. Degerando. 
 
OP THE MIND» 109 
 
 We can direct the thoughts to any subject we 
 please, and can keep them directed to it with 
 steady and continuous attention. In the due 
 culture of this power consists a point in mental 
 discipline of primary and essential importance. 
 By the neglect of such culture, the mind is al- 
 lowed to run to waste amid the trifles of the 
 passing hour, or is left the sport of waking 
 dreams and vain delusions entirely unworthy 
 of its high destiny. There is not a greater 
 source of difference between one man and an- 
 other than in the manner in which they ex- 
 ercise this power over the succession of the 
 thoughts, and in the subjects to which these 
 are habitually directed. It is a mental exer- 
 cise which lies at the foundation of the whole 
 moral condition. He who, in early life, seri- 
 ously enters upon it, under a sense of its su- 
 preme importance; who trains himself to habits 
 of close and connected thinking, and exerts a 
 strict control over the subjects to which his 
 thoughts are habitually directed ; leading them 
 to such as are really worthy of his regard, and 
 banishing all such as are of a frivolous, impure, 
 or degrading character ; this is he who is pur- 
 suing the highest of all earthly acquirements, 
 K 
 
110 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 the culture of the understanding and the disci- 
 pline of the heart. This due regulation and 
 stern control of the processes, of the mind is, 
 indeed, the foundation of all that is high and 
 excellent in the formation of character. He 
 who does not earnestly exercise it, but who al- 
 lows his mind to wander as it may be led by 
 its own incidental images or casual associations, 
 or by the influence of external things to which 
 he is continually exposed, endangers his high- 
 est interests both as an intellectual and a moral 
 being. "Keep thy heart with all diligence," 
 says the sacred writer, " for out of it are the is- 
 sues of life." 
 
 Now it cannot be too anxiously borne in mind 
 that this great attainment is, in a remarkable 
 degree, under the influence of habit. Each 
 step that we take in the prosecution of it will 
 facilitate our farther progress; and every day 
 that passes over us without making it the ob- 
 ject of earnest attention, the acquirement be- 
 comes the more difficult and the more uncer- 
 tain, and a period at length arrives when no 
 power exists in the mind capable of correcting 
 the disorder which habit has fixed in the men- 
 tal economy. The frivolous mind may then 
 
OF THB MIND. HI 
 
 continue frivolous to the last, amusing itself 
 with trifles, or creating for itself fictions of the 
 fancy no better than dreams, and as unprofita- 
 ble : the distorted mind may continue to the 
 last eagerly pursuing some favourite dogma, 
 while it is departing farther and farther from 
 truth ; and the vitiated and corrupted mind may 
 continue to the last the slave of its impure and 
 degrading passions. Such is the power and 
 such the result of mental habits ; and let us 
 ever bear in mind how such habits are formed. 
 They arise out of individual acts of the mind ; 
 and we have not the means of determining what 
 number of such acts are necessary for forming 
 the habits, and at what period these may acquire 
 a nrjastery which shall peril the highest interests 
 of the mind. We cannot determine how many 
 instances of frivolity may constitute the perma- 
 nently frivolous mind ; how many trains of im- 
 purity may constitute the permanently corrupt- 
 ed mind ; or what degree of inattention to the 
 diligent culture of the powers within may be 
 fatal to the best interests of the man, both as 
 an intellectual and a moral being. Hence the 
 supreme importance of cultivating in early Hfe 
 the mastery of the mind, and of watching with 
 
112 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 earnest attention the trains of thought which we 
 encourage there, as we cannot determine at 
 what period a habit may be formed, the influ- 
 ence of which shall be permanent and irreme- 
 diable. 
 
 When we take this extended view of that 
 which constitutes sound intellectual culture, we 
 perceive that it does not consist in the mere ac- 
 quirement of knowledge, however extensive 
 that knowledge may be ; for this may be an ex- 
 ercise of memory alone. We feel that there is 
 a culture of the higher powders of the mind of 
 greater difficulty and greater importance far, 
 without which knowledge is vain. This is a 
 due regulation of the various mental faculties 
 themselves, so that each may perform its prop- 
 er office upon the knowledge we have acquired ; 
 that the various powers within may observe a 
 healthy relation towards each other; and that 
 from the whole may result a due influence upon 
 our motives and principles of action as moral 
 and responsible beings. Without attention to 
 these considerations, a man may accumulate a 
 mass of knowledge which yields him no real 
 advantage ; he may have gone the round of the 
 sciences, commonly so called, while he haa 
 
OF THE MIND. 113 
 
 made no progress in that higher department, the 
 knowledge of himself. 
 
 The great principle of self-government, there- 
 fore, consists in calling ourselves to account 
 both for what we know and for what we do, 
 and for the discipline which we exercise over 
 the processes of our minds. It consists in 
 questioning ourselves rigidly what progress we 
 are making in important acquirements; what 
 are the subjects which chiefly occupy our atten- 
 tion ; whether these are such as are really of ad- 
 equate value, or whether, amid undue devoted- 
 ness to some favourite pursuit, others of higher 
 importance are overlooked and forgotten; or 
 whether, under a habit of listless vacuity and 
 inactivity of mind, we may be allowing the best 
 of our days to creep on without eager attention 
 to any solid acquirement at all. It consists in 
 questioning ourselves in the same manner 
 what opinions we have formed, and upon what 
 grounds we have formed them ; whether they 
 have been received from others without exam- 
 ining for ourselves, or after a slight and partial 
 exammation, directed, it may be, by some previ- 
 ously formed prejudice, or whether they have 
 been deduced from a full and fair examination 
 K2 
 
114 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 of all the facts which ought to be taken into 
 the inquiry. It consists, finally, in scrutinizing 
 our mental habits, our moral feelings, and our 
 principles of action ; what are the subjects to 
 which our thoughts are most habitually direct- 
 ed ? what the motives which chiefly influence 
 our conduct ? what the great objects which we 
 propose to ourselves in life ? what place among 
 these have the principles of selfish indulgence, 
 personal distinction, or mere human applause ? 
 and what place have those exalted principles 
 which spring from a higher source, and rise to 
 that elevation from which they spring, a spirit 
 of devotedness to Him who made us, and views 
 and feelings which point to an existence beyond 
 the grave ? 
 
 In regard to the discipline of the mind as 
 well as the external conduct, the rule proposed 
 by Bishop Butler is of high efiicacy and uni- 
 versal application. It consists in simply asking 
 ourselves, before proceeding to any act or any 
 course of action, " i s this I am going to do 
 right, or is it wrong ; is it good, or is it evil ?" 
 This rule is so simple and so obvious, that 
 most people, probably, think they act upon it ; 
 but this they will find has been done in a very 
 
OF THE MIND. 115 
 
 loose and inefficient manner when they come 
 in every instance distinctly to put the question 
 and distinctly to answer it. The practice of 
 doing so in every step of life will grow into a 
 habit of mental discipline of vital importance 
 to the highest interests of the moral being. 
 It ought to be exercised, not in regard to our 
 actions alone, but also in regard to the process- 
 es of the mind, the direction of the attention, 
 and the regulation of the thoughts. These will 
 be found to be as much under the influence of 
 a voluntary power as are our external actions; 
 and the due and habitual exercise of this pow- 
 er is, in both cases, of equal and indispensable 
 importance to a sound moral condition. 
 
 A leading defect in many characters, and 
 one which lies at the foundation of much and 
 serious imperfection, both intellectual and mor- 
 al, is the want of this habit of self-inspection 
 and self-interrogation. This deficiency is not 
 confined to the listless and vacant mind, which 
 allows life to glide over it amid frivolities and 
 waking dreams. It may be found in those who 
 are intensely and actively occupied with exter- 
 nal things. It may be found alike in the la- 
 borious student, who is eager in the pursuit of 
 
116 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 knowledge, and in the active man of the world, 
 who, engrossed with the affairs ot the living 
 scene which is moving around him, has neg- 
 lected the wondrous scene that is passing with- 
 in ; has never cultivated the rigid scrutiny of his 
 own intellectual and moral temperament. The 
 truth, indeed, seems to be, that, after a certain 
 period of life, few have the hardihood thus 
 sternly to look within. For a high degree of 
 moral courage is required to face the disclosure 
 which awaits the mind when it is thus turned 
 inward upon itself; a disclosure, it may be, of 
 the result of years and years that have passed 
 over it in listless inactivity, which yields no- 
 thing to reflection but an empty void ; or in the 
 eager pursuit of objects which are seen to be 
 worthless ; or in the acquirement of habits 
 which are felt to be destructive of the health of 
 the mind ; the disclosure, it may be, of impor- 
 t2^nt duties neglected and important pursuits 
 overlooked, and the conviction that life is draw- 
 ing to a close while its great business is yet to 
 begin. Few have moral courage to meet this 
 disclosure ; and, when it is met with an atten- 
 tion in some degree adequate to its supreme 
 interest, the impressions which it yields are en 
 
OF THE MIND. 117 
 
 countered by the force of confirmed nnoral hab- 
 its, which seem to claim every faculty and feel- 
 ing of the mind as theirs by hopeless bondage. 
 Hence the supreme importance of cultivating 
 in early life the habit of looking within ; the 
 practice of rigidly questioning ourselves as to 
 what we are and what we are doing ; what are 
 our mental habits ; what are our plans and pros- 
 pects for life, and what influence over the whole 
 of our moral discipline have the solemn reali- 
 ties of a life which is to come. What I have 
 called the power of mastering the mind consists, 
 if I may use a strong mode of expression, in 
 compelling it to listen to such a course of inter- 
 rogation as this, and compelling it to return 
 distinct and definite answers. Each hour that, 
 in early life, is spent in such an exercise, is 
 fraught with results of greater value than aught 
 that the world can give. The exercise is grad- 
 ually confirmed into a mental habit; and, under 
 the influence of a power from on high, the con- 
 sequences are likely to be such as reach beyond 
 the narrow limits of time, and extend into eter- 
 nal existence. 
 
 The regulated condition of the mind which 
 
118 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 has been the subject of these observations is 
 applicable lo every situation in which a man 
 can be placed in life, and leads him to feel his 
 way through its various pursuits and responsi- 
 bilities in a manner adapted to the requirements 
 of each of them. But it more properly belongs 
 to the aim of my present suggestions lo mark 
 its influence upon the progress of the mind it- 
 self; and in this respect I may allude, in a very 
 few words, to its remarkable bearing upon three 
 leading objects of mental discipline, the acqui- 
 sition of knowledge, the formation of opinions, 
 and the culture of those moral emotions of the 
 heart which are the last and highest object to 
 every responsible being. 
 
 I. A regulated condition of the mind contrib- 
 utes, in a most material degree, to our progress 
 in knowledge. In this respect it is, in the first 
 place, the source of a quality which ought to 
 be carefully cultivated in early life, which I may 
 call mental activity. This consists of an eager, 
 inquiring state of mind, ever on the watch for 
 information from any source from which it can 
 be drawn, and ever anxious to make its infor- 
 mation more correct and more extensive. It 
 
OF THE MIND. 119 
 
 leads to a habit of observation, by' which we 
 learn lo derive knowledge from all that is pass- 
 ing around us. It teaches us, farther, to direct 
 this mental activity in a proper manner, by se- 
 lecting such objects as are really deserving of 
 our regard, and by directing the mind to them 
 with a steady and continuous attention, so that 
 we may acquire a full and connected knowledge 
 of all the facts and their relations to each other, 
 and thus prepare them for the conclusions or 
 general principles which they are calculated to 
 yield. It thus tends to preserve us from frivo- 
 lous pursuits by leading us to a steady culture 
 of those which are of real importance, and with 
 an eager and persevering attention adapted to 
 their true value. For, among many pursuits, 
 no man can excel in all ; and the foundation of 
 eminence is a due selection, and a leading di- 
 rection of the mind to those which are thus se- 
 lected. You will be at no loss to discover 
 around you remarkable and instructive exam- 
 ples of the effects produced by the want of this 
 sound discipline of the mind. One you will 
 find dreaming through life, without directing 
 himself with energy to any object ; a second 
 wasting his powers, perhaps of a superior or- 
 
 k 
 
120 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 der, in a desultory application to a variety of 
 studies, without excelling in one ; while a third 
 devotes himself with eagerness and zeal to 
 some favourite pursuit, neglecting others which 
 really merit his chief regard. 
 
 Closely connected with the habit of mental ac- 
 tivity is the habit of reflection on the relations 
 of the facts which are acquired, leading us to 
 observe their connexions and the conclusions 
 which they yield ; and the habit of association, 
 referring facts to others with which they bear 
 an analogy, and to principles or opinions which 
 they tend to confirm, modify, or overturn. It 
 teaches us also to trace among facts the rela- 
 tion of cause and effect, and to deduce from 
 them general conclusions or general principles, 
 the last and main object of science. Now the 
 whole of this course of mental activity is pro- 
 ductive not only of intellectual improvement, 
 but of the highest mental enjoyment, while the 
 frivolous or ill-regulated mind is not only fatal 
 to improvement, but is a burden to itself, and, 
 as life advances, becomes its own tormentor. 
 Let, then, the eager desire for knowledge carry 
 you above those pursuits which waste the best 
 years of so many around you, and leave them, 
 
OF THE MIND. 12l 
 
 even to the close of their days, the victims of 
 frivolity still. 
 
 In regard to this important object, there are 
 some suggestions of a practical nature which 
 I may offer in a few words. 
 
 (1.) Carefully select the subjects to which 
 your attention is to be more particularly direct- 
 ed ; and, having selected them from a deliber- 
 ate conviction of their importance, prosecute 
 them steadily and perseveringly, upon a regular 
 and connected plan. To a certain extent, the 
 mind derives a feeling of relief from varying its 
 occupations, but this requires to be done with 
 caution; for a most essential means of prog- 
 ress in intellectual pursuits is to have one 
 leading object, to which the energies of the 
 mind are directed in a special manner. This 
 ought not only to be cultivated by regular peri- 
 ods of study, but should be kept, as it were, 
 habitually before the mind, so as to prove a 
 ready subject of thought, to which the atten- 
 tion may be directed during intervals of disen- 
 gagement from any direct pursuit. The mind 
 cannot be unoccupied, and to all there are many 
 such periods of disengagement ; it is a most 
 important part of mental discipline to cultivate 
 L 
 
122 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 the habit of having ready and accessible objects 
 to which the nnind may then be directed in a 
 profitable manner. This is a practice of great 
 value in the regulation of the mind itself, and 
 calculated to prevent habits which are destruct- 
 ive of a sound mental condition ; and it is also 
 a source of much real intellectual progress. 
 For a subject which is habitually contemplated 
 in this manner often expands itself before the 
 mind with comparatively little effort, develop- 
 ing views and principles which had probably 
 escaped us in periods of more regular study. 
 
 (2.) Cultivate the habit of intense attention 
 to whatever subject is before you, whether in 
 reading, observation, or in listening to the in- 
 struction of others ; and check the first tenden- 
 cy either to a listless inactivity of mind, or to 
 allowing it to be led astray by visions of the 
 imagination, or by incidental trains of associa- 
 tion foreign to the subject. Sound intellectual 
 progress depends less upon protracted and la- 
 borious study than on the habit of close, steady, 
 and continued attention. It is from it that evi- 
 dence derives its power to produce conviction ; 
 it is by means of it that any subject of inquiry 
 is brought before the mind in a manner calcu 
 
OF THE MIND. 123 
 
 lated to yield sound views and accurate conclu- 
 sions ; and the deficiency of it is the source of 
 those partial and distorted impressions by which 
 men, even of considerable endowments, often 
 wander so widely from truth. This habit, of 
 what I may call active attention, will carry you 
 through every pursuit in a manner calculated 
 to ensure the utmost advantage from it. Does 
 a subject occur to you either in reading, con- 
 versation, or reflection, in which you feel that 
 your knowledge is deficient, you will promptly 
 go in search of the information that is wanting. 
 In perusing a work^ your attention will be acute- 
 ly and distinctly directed to the information to 
 be derived from it, the train of investigation or 
 of reasoning which the author pursues, the au- 
 thenticity of his facts, the validity of his argu- 
 ments, the accuracy of his conclusions, his style 
 of writing, his character as an observer, and all 
 the circumstances which may enable you to de- 
 cide whether you can trust to him as a guide 
 in the branch of knowledge of which he treats 
 A discourse to which you have occasion to lis- 
 ten may possibly be uninteresting, and may 
 promise little improvement, and you may feel 
 the disposition to allow the mind to wander 
 
124 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 from it ; but in such circumstances there should 
 never be forgotten the paramount importance of 
 the discipline of the mind itself, and the danger 
 of anything that might break in upon the habit 
 of attention. In the pursuits of science, this 
 habit of the mind leads to sound knowledge and 
 correct conclusions ; in the affairs of ordinary 
 life, it is the source of promptitude, united to 
 discretion and prudence ; in the highest con- 
 cerns of a man as a moral being, it brings him 
 under the influence of those important truths 
 which are calculated to guide and regulate his 
 moral emotions, and his whole character and 
 conduct in life. Such is the power of the habit 
 of attention ; it is not saying too much of it to 
 affirm that it lies at the foundation of the whole 
 character. 
 
 (3.) Cultivate the object of correct observa- 
 tion, association, and reflection. This is near- 
 ly connected with the former: it leads us to be 
 acutely awake to all that is passing around us, 
 and to be ever on the watch for information 
 from every source from which we can draw it. 
 It teaches us to treasure up knowledge in an 
 orderly and accessible form, by associating new 
 facts or principles with others to which they 
 
OF THE MIND. 125 
 
 bear a relation or analogy, and with principles 
 or objects of inquiry which they tend to illus- 
 trate. It leads us, farther, to trace among facts 
 the relations which they bear to each other, 
 and the new principles and conclusions to 
 which they conduct us ; and thus, by a process 
 of the mind itself, to deduce new and important 
 truths from a simple series of facts which are 
 before us. This condition of the mind is the 
 source of what we call Observing and Invent- 
 ive Genius, which lie at the foundation of all 
 philosophical eminence. Observing Genius 
 leads the philosopher not only to acquire facts, 
 but to arrange, generalize, and reflect upon them 
 in such a manner as to deduce from them new 
 truths, which the mere collector of facts does 
 not discover. It was by reflections produced 
 by the fall of an apple from a tree that New- 
 ton was led to those principles which regulate 
 the movement of the great bodies of the uni- 
 verse. Inventive Genius, again, leads him not 
 only to observe and arrange facts when they 
 are presented to him, but to go in search of 
 them. In doing so, he takes for his guides cer- 
 tain conjectures or assumptions which have 
 arisen out of his own intense contemplation of 
 L2 
 
126 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 the subject, and then commences a course of 
 observations or experiments calculated to ascer- 
 tain their truth. This habit of the mind, there- 
 fore, is pecuharly applicable to the experiment- 
 al sciences, and in these has often been the 
 source of the most important discoveries. 
 
 (4.) Study to acquire the habit of improving 
 fragments of time. A very little experience 
 will convince you of the great importance of 
 this rule, and will show you how much may be 
 done by the careful improvement of portions of 
 time which are too often entirely lost. They 
 are lost partly from the want of that habitual 
 mental activity which has been so often refer- 
 red to, and partly from not cultivating the habit 
 of having some leading object always, as it 
 were, in progress, and keeping it so before the 
 mind that the attention may at any time be 
 directed to it in a profitable manner. 
 
 (5.) In the culture of the mental habits 
 which have been referred to much benefit is 
 derived from writing, provided it be done in a 
 distinct, methodical manner, and in your own 
 words. In history, for example, it may consist 
 of chronological tables, with the addition of 
 your own reflections on the relations of the 
 
OP THE MIND. 127 
 
 events, and the displays of character which 
 they present to us ; in other subjects, of ab- 
 stracts of innportant facts, statements, and argu- 
 ments, with your own observations. Such a 
 practice tends to fix the attention, and to culti- 
 vate habits of correct thinking and correct ex- 
 pression. 
 
 The points of mental discipline which have 
 been thus briefly referred to you will find at 
 first to require an exertion and a steady effort 
 to exercise that power which you possess over 
 the processes of the mind. If left to itself, the 
 mind is very apt to become listless, or to be 
 led away into incidental trains of images which 
 have arisen within itself, or have been suggest- 
 ed by some trivial source of association. But 
 you find that you have the power to control its 
 movements ; to direct it into trains of thought 
 of a useful and important kind, and to check 
 the first risings of such as are of an opposite 
 character. The effort, made with steadiness 
 and perseverance, will become easier the lon- 
 ger it is pursued, and will be gradually formed 
 into a habit, the important habit of a well-reg'. 
 ulated mind. 
 
128 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 According to a common mode of expression, 
 we attach ^reat importance to that which we 
 call genius^ and which we consider as an origi- 
 nal quality of particular minds. But what is 
 of greater value than that which often receives 
 the name of genius is not to be considered as 
 an original quality, but a habit of the mind. It 
 is nothing more than intense mental activity, 
 steadily directed to some leading pursuit. This 
 important principle was well illustrated by Sir 
 Charles Bell in his introductory address to his 
 first course of lectures in Edinburgh, when he 
 took occasion to allude to that distinguished 
 physiologist and surgeon, Mr. John Hunter. 
 Mr. Hunter, he said, had been called a man of 
 genius, but he was disposed to take a different 
 view of his character from that which is com- 
 monly expressed by that term. The great and 
 leading feature in Mr. Hunter's character, he 
 added, was, that he was steadily and eagerly 
 devoted to his object, and that no change of ex- 
 ternal circumstances had the power, for one mo- 
 ment, of turning him aside from it. Was he in 
 his study or in his dissecting-room, or min- 
 gling with men in the common occupations of 
 life ; was he at sea, shut up in a crowded trans- 
 
OF THE MIND. 129 
 
 port, or was he in the field of battle, with bul- 
 lets flying and men dropping around him, one 
 great object was steadily and habitually before 
 him, and he never lost an opportunity of seiz- 
 ing upon everything that could in any way be 
 made to bear upon it. This, call it by what 
 name you will, is the source of all distinction. 
 It is greatly assisted by education; but what I 
 am anxious to impress upon you is, that it is not 
 an original quality, but an acquired habit of the 
 mind, and a habit which may be cultivated by 
 every one who determinedly devotes himself to 
 the high attainment. 
 
 II. The second great mental operation, in 
 which is felt the value of a regulated mind, is 
 the formation of opinions. Here various errors 
 are committed, but all of them are of serious 
 moment. There is a listless vacuity of mind 
 which prevents it from being directed with at- 
 tention or interest to the formation of defined 
 opinions, even on subjects of supreme impor- 
 tance. There is a servility of mind which 
 leaves it the slave of mere authority, without 
 forming opinions for itself by personal inquiry. 
 And there is a rude and reckless affectation of 
 
130 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 mental independence or liberty of thinking 
 which leads a man to despise authority, to aim 
 at striking out for himself a system distinguish- 
 ed from the received opinions of those around 
 him, led, it may be, by a love of singularity or 
 the vanity of appearing wiser than his neigh- 
 bours ; or, perhaps, impelled by the condition 
 of his moral feelings, to argue himself into the 
 disbelief of what he wishes not to be true. 
 From all such distortions of the understanding 
 a regulated mental discipline tends to preserve 
 us. It induces us to approach every subject 
 with a sincere and humble desire for truth ; to 
 give its due influence to authority, without be- 
 ing blindly led by it ; to give its due weight to 
 every kind of evidence, without partial views 
 or imperfect examination ; and to direct the 
 whole powers, not to favour, establish, or over- 
 turn particular opinions, but honestly and anx- 
 iously to discover what is truth. 
 
 This is a subject of intense and solemn in- 
 terest. A slight attention to the philosophy of 
 it will enable you to perceive its true bearings 
 upon us as responsible beings ; and how, on the 
 highest of all subjects, a man may incur moral 
 guilt in the formation of his opinions. Both as 
 
OF THE MIND. 131 
 
 intellectual and moral beings, the great agent by 
 which we are acted upon is truth. Trulh de 
 rives its power from evidence ; and there are 
 lawrs of evidence which, in their nature, are as 
 absolute and immutable as the laws of physi- 
 cal relations. But for the operation of them a 
 state of the mind ilself is required ; and without 
 this, even the best evidence may be deprived of 
 its power to produce conviction. For the result 
 of evidence upon the mind depends on close 
 and continued attention ; and this is a voluntary 
 process which every one may be able to per- 
 form. It is on this ground, therefore, that we 
 hold a man to be responsible for his belief, and 
 contend that he may incur deep moral guilt in 
 his disbelief of truths which he has examined 
 in a frivolous or prejudiced manner, or which, 
 perhaps, he indulges in the miserable affecta- 
 tion of disbelieving without having examined 
 them at all. The remarkable fact, indeed, ap- 
 pears to be, that the chief source of unbelief, on 
 the greatest of all subjects, is generally to be 
 found in a previous moral corruption of the 
 mind. It arises from no defect of evidence, 
 but from a state of mind on which the highest 
 falls without power. This striking moral pro- 
 
132 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 cess begins by a man renouncing the guidance 
 of sound moral principle and ihe restraints of 
 religious truth both on his conduct and on the 
 discipline of his heart. The great truths which 
 he thus violates are then repelled as intruders 
 which disturb his mental tranquillity ; and, from 
 this stage in his downward progress, the ca- 
 reer is short and the mental process simple by 
 which he succeeds in driving the belief of them 
 from his mind. Such is the wondrous econo- 
 my of the human heart, and such is the history 
 of many a man, who, after a certain course of 
 moral degradation, has sought refuge in infidel- 
 ity. 
 
 On the great questions of religious belief, 
 therefore, allow me to suggest to you some con- 
 siderations respecting the manner in which a 
 well-regulated mind ought to approach this 
 highest of all inquiries. 
 
 (1.) Beware of indifference ; that is, of treat- 
 ing the subject in a light and careless manner ; 
 professing, it may be, a nominal acquiescence 
 in certain truths, because you have been taught 
 them in your infancy, or because they are the 
 established creed of those with whom you are 
 particularly connected. Study the subject for 
 
OF THE MIND. 13S 
 
 yourselves ; study it in a regular and connected 
 manner, and let every step be a matter of close 
 and serious personal inquiry. Study it under 
 a deep sense of its supreme importance, and 
 with an anxious desire that the opinions you 
 form shall be consistent with truth, and that 
 they shall embrace the whole truth ; and, final- 
 ly, study it with a devout reliance on a light 
 and an influence from above, which are promised 
 to the humble inquirer; a light which will con- 
 duct to the truth, and an influence which will 
 fix that truth as a ruling principle in the whole 
 economy of the heart. It is the part of a reg- 
 ulated mind not only to know the truths, but 
 to know the grounds on which they are believed 
 to be true ; ^ " to be able to give a reason for the 
 hope that is in you." When the great elements 
 of the Christian faith are thus studied in a man- 
 ner adapted to their supreme importance, they 
 are found to rest upon a chain of evidence 
 which falls upon the mind with irresistible pow- 
 er. This evidence is addressed to us as ration- 
 al and responsible beings ; but its influence de- 
 pends upon the attention which is directed to it, 
 and this is a voluntary process of the mind 
 which it is the solemn duty of every man to 
 M 
 
134 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 perform. That the truths may exert their due 
 influence upon the moral condition, they ought 
 ihvxA to be fixed in the understanding ; for it is 
 at once the source of true faith, and the best 
 antidote to enthusiasm, liiat faith be founded in 
 knowledge. But that this great purpose may 
 be answered, the attention must be devoted not 
 to the evidence alone; it must be extended, 
 with the same anxious care, to the doctrines 
 themselves. These are presented to tiie can- 
 did inquirer with a wondrous force of internal 
 evidence, when he perceives their harmony 
 with each oiher and their adaptation to the ac- 
 tual condition of man ; and, to a mind thus pre- 
 pared, they soon vindicate their claim to subju- 
 gate every emotion of the heart to their power, 
 the power of immutable and eternal truth. 
 
 (2.) Acting upon these principles, you will 
 learn to estimate, according to its real value, a 
 display of character which, I fear, you may 
 meet with in the intercourse of life. This is 
 what I would call the cant of infidelity ; the af- 
 fectation of scoffing at sacred things by men 
 who have never examined the subject, or never 
 with a degree of attention at all adapted to its 
 deep importance. The conduct of such per- 
 
OF THE MIND. 135 
 
 gons is not more melancholy in itself than it is 
 at variance with every other principle worthy 
 of a regulated mind. The following account of 
 the menial condition, in a noted class of French 
 infidels, is given by one who knew them well, 
 and whose authority is entitled to the utmost 
 confidence. " Vanity has a greater share in 
 iheir disputes than conscience ; they imagine 
 that the singularity and boldness of the opin- 
 ions which they maintain will give them the rep- 
 utation of men of parts ; by degrees they get 
 into a habit of holding impious discourse, and, 
 if their vanity be accompanied by a voluptuous 
 life, their progress in that road is the swifter. 
 They have made no deep exami- 
 nation ; they have learned some few objections, 
 which they are perpetually making a noise with ; 
 they speak from a principle of ostentation, and 
 give themselves the lie in the time of danger."* 
 Such is infidelity as described by one who had 
 ample opportunity of knowing it, and such 
 will it in general be found to be. I wilLnot 
 venture to maintain that it is impossible to find 
 a man who has arrived at this conclusion after 
 an extent of examination adapted to the su* 
 * Bayle's Dictiouary, 
 
136 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 preme importance of the subject, but 1 hesitate 
 not to assert that it will be exceedingly difficult ; 
 and 1 believe it may be confidently stated as a 
 fact, that calm and serious inquiry has almost in- 
 variably ended in conviction. 
 
 III. But I must leave this deeply important 
 subject, and hasten to offer a very few remarks 
 on the third of the topics to which I have al- 
 luded, the influence of a regulated mind on the 
 tnoral emotions of the h6art. In these consists 
 the highest state of man, his soundness as a 
 moral being; and there flow from them, by di- 
 rect and natural sequence, all those affections 
 and motives of action which guide his conduct 
 to his fellow-men, and those nobler emotions 
 fetill which raise the feeble and finite being to 
 Him the infinite and eternal. In the culture 
 of these are involved not only the chief dignity 
 of our nature, and our prospects as moral and 
 responsible beings, but also, in an equal de- 
 gree, our present sound and solid happiness. 
 They constitute that true wisdom, of which we 
 are entitled to say, on the best of all authority, 
 " her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her 
 paths are peace." 
 
OF THE MIND. 137 
 
 Here we are reminded of that remarkable 
 principle which pervades the whole economy of 
 the mind, the intimate relation which exists be- 
 tween the moral emotions and intellectual pro- 
 cesses over which we have a direct and absolute 
 control. As moral and responsible beings, the 
 power by which we are acted upon is truth. 
 But all truth must first be presented to the un- 
 derstanding; and being, by an appropriate pro- 
 cess of examination, received into the mind, it 
 is then, by a voluntary exercise of attention and 
 reflection, to be applied in such a manner as to 
 produce its proper influence on the moral emo- 
 tions of the heart. It is thus that a beautiful 
 harmony and consistency pervade the whole 
 economy of the mind, evidently worthy of Him 
 who made it ; and it is thus that a solemn re- 
 sponsibility attaches to ourselves in regard to 
 those emotions of the heart over which we have 
 not a direct control. It is precisely the same 
 principle to which I have already referred re- 
 specting the responsibility of man for his belief. 
 He cannot believe as he wills by any direct ef- 
 fort of his mind, yet a deep responsibility at- 
 taches to him in the formation of his opinions ; 
 and he cannot call forth at his bidding the moral 
 
138 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 emotions of the heart ; but the deepest guilt 
 may be involved in the absence of them ; be- 
 cause, by an established economy of his mind^ 
 they arise out of processes of the understand- 
 ing over which he has an absolute power, ap- 
 phed to truths which, under a higher influence, 
 are calculated to exert a direct control over the 
 moral emotions of the heart. This part of the 
 mental constitution is worthy of the deepest at 
 tention of every one who appreciates that most 
 essential of all pursuits, the culture of the 
 moral feelings. It is by means of it that truth, 
 which is received by a process of the under- 
 standing, is made to exert its power in control- 
 ling the tempests of the heart ; it is by means 
 of it that we can invite and cherish mental im- 
 ages and trains of thought, which tend directly 
 to the highest purposes of our moral culture ; 
 and can banish those which have an opposite 
 tendency, as enemies which would poison the 
 springs of moral health and peril the safety of 
 the moral being. 
 
 And what are the truths which, under a su- 
 preme influence, our intellectual nature is thus 
 to use as the engines of a power to control and 
 regulate the emotions of the heart ? They are 
 
OF THE MIND, 139 
 
 those which refer to the attributes of God, and 
 our relation to him as the creatures of his hand, 
 moral, responsible, and immortal. They rest 
 upon evidence so extensive and so varied, that 
 its authority will be best appreciated by those 
 who have made the greatest attainments in the 
 laws of rigid inquiry. This evidence is above 
 us, and within us, and around us. Every step 
 that we take amid the wonders of creation 
 without leads us to new discoveries of the 
 power, and wisdom, and goodness of Him who 
 called them into being by his word, and main- 
 tains them all in undeviating harmony. When 
 we turn our attention within, we read in the 
 moral impressions of our own minds, or, in 
 other words, in the light of conscience, his at- 
 tributes of holiness, and justice, and truth. 
 And, meeting with difficulties in the book of 
 natural religion, we have only to turn to the 
 page of revelation, where all these difficulties 
 are removed, and the Divine character is dis- 
 played with a harmony and consistency which 
 carry conviction to every candid mind. We 
 have there disclosed the wondrous provision 
 which has been made by infinite wisdom and 
 infinite mercy for the restoration of man from 
 
140 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 his State of moral ruin, and a power adapted to 
 his moral weakness, and a light to shine upon 
 his moral darkness, and a code of ethics more 
 high, more pure, and more extensive far, than 
 ever was contemplated by the wisest of men. 
 The whole is supported by a weight of evidence 
 which fixes itself upon the mind with irresisti- 
 ble power, and, with a lone of authority, it calls 
 our attention to all the responsibilities of life, 
 and all the realities of a life which is to come. 
 Such are the truths which, as moral causes, 
 are calculated to act upon the mind, and thus to 
 control and regulate our emotions and our whole 
 character as moral and responsible beings ; and 
 it is of the utmost consequence that we attend 
 to the philosophy of that process by which they 
 may be made to answer this great purpose, and 
 without which it may be entirely lost to us, 
 with all its important results. This is an exer- 
 cise of attention and reflection over which 
 every man feels that he has a voluntary control. 
 The truths are endowed with certain tenden- 
 cies which are as uniform as the operation of 
 physical causes ; but their actual efficiency is 
 closely connected with this exercise of the mind 
 itself; and it is thus that, by ignorance or in* 
 
OF THE MIND. 141 
 
 attention, a man may incur the deepest guilt in 
 the want of that moral culture, the great agents 
 of which are thus presented to him, and press- 
 ed upon his attention as a rational being. Now 
 the truths to which I have thus referred are 
 usually called objects of faith; and you will 
 often find a distinction made between objects 
 of reason and objects of faith, as if the latter 
 were, in some respect, inferior to the former in 
 their evidence and stability ; but this is entirely 
 without foundation. The truths which are the 
 objects of faith are properly so called because 
 they do not come under the cognizance of any 
 of our senses ; but they are as directly address- 
 ed to the understanding as the most obvious in- 
 ductions of physical science ; and they carry a 
 weight of evidence as direct and incontrovert- 
 ible to every mind which is open to its power. 
 This evidence, indeed, is of a different charac- 
 ter, but its strength and its authority are the 
 same. The truths themselves are calculated to 
 engage the highest powers of the mind ; and 
 the most exalted understanding that ever dwelt 
 in human form will derive from them a new- 
 feeling of intellectual vigour and moral health, 
 by which it shall wing its way to those regions 
 
142 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 where shine forth in a peculiar nnanner the Di- 
 vine perfections ; and shall there prostrate these 
 highest powers in devout and hunnble adoration 
 of Him" who was, and who is, and who is to 
 conne." This, and nothing less than this, is 
 true philosophy ; for it is this alone that traces 
 the phenomena of nature to their cause ; it is 
 this alone that takes within its grasp the whole 
 range of truth, and places fairly and deliberately 
 against the mere objects of sense those great 
 realities which are the objects of faith. 
 
 Our highest concern as moral beings, there- 
 fore, being not with objects of sense, but with 
 things future and objects unseen, to live, in a 
 certain degree, under the influence of these is 
 essential to a sound moral condition. But this 
 requires an effort of the mind of a very pecu- 
 liar nature. It requires that we cherish the 
 habit of banishing for a time the power of sen- 
 sible objects, and of raising the faculty of con- 
 ception to an immediate contemplation and re- 
 alizing impression of things and events which 
 are the objects of faith. It requires that we 
 cultivate the habit of referring every act of our 
 life and every element of our character to the 
 will of God ; of treasuring up in the mind the 
 
OF THE MIND. 143 
 
 principles and maxims of his word, and of ma- 
 king ihem the subject of contemplation in such 
 a manner that they may at all times promptly 
 exert their power, both in the regulation of the 
 conduct and the discipline of the heart. We 
 have formerly alluded to the numerous intervals 
 of disengagement of mind which are left to us 
 even in the busiest life, and the great import- 
 ance of having accessible subjects of thought 
 to which the mind can then be directed in a 
 profitable manner. It is in reference to such 
 intervals that the sacred writer describes so 
 beautifully the effect produced upon him when 
 he sought refuge in the contemplation of the 
 Divine character, and the impression which im- 
 mediately followed of a sense of the Divine 
 protection : " When I remember thee upon my 
 bed, and meditate on thee in the night watches, 
 in the shadow of thy wings will I rejoice.'' 
 The most exalted aspirations of the poet can 
 ascend to nothing more sublime than this, at 
 once pointing to the highest elevation to which 
 the finite being can aspire to rise, and leading 
 to some of the most important principles both 
 in intellectual and moral science. 
 Let it, then, be your study in early life to cul- 
 
144 CULTURE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 tivate that sound condition of the mind by which 
 its powers are not kept in bondage to the mere 
 objects of sense, but are trained to the habit of 
 bringing down upon it the habitual influence of 
 the truths which are the objects of faith. Amid 
 the collisions of active life on which you are 
 about to enter, you will soon find yourselves in 
 want of a safer guide than can be furnished by 
 human wisdom ; ** you will require a higher in- 
 centive than human praise, a more exalted ob- 
 ject than human ambition, a principle more fixed 
 than human honour."* This object and this 
 principle are to be found only in a devout and 
 habitual sense of the homage which we owe 
 to Him who made us, and in the habitual desire 
 to make his word at once the rule of our con- 
 duct and the regulating principle of every emo- 
 tion of the heart. Devote yourselves with ea- 
 ger enthusiasm to the high acquirements of sci- 
 ence, but cultivate also that habit of the mind 
 by which science shall continually lead you. to 
 the eternal Cause. And, while you are taught 
 to follow the planet through the wondrous reg- 
 ularities of its movements, when you find the 
 
 * Lord Stanley's Rectorial Address at Glasgow j newspaper 
 report. 
 
OF THE MIND 146 
 
 comet, after being lost for a century, returning 
 at the appointed period horn ihe solitudes of its 
 eccentric orbit ; when you extend your view be- 
 yond the system in which we move, and pene- 
 trate into that field in which ten thousand other 
 systems revolve around ten thousand other suns 
 in ceaseless harmony, oh rest not in a cold rec- 
 ognition of the facts, but take one step and say, 
 "These are thy wondrous works, thyself how 
 wondrous ;" and rest not here, but take yet an- 
 other step, and recognise this Being as the wit- 
 ness of all your conduct, as the witness even of 
 the moral condition of the heart; seek after 
 purity of character, for you cannot go where you 
 are not followed by that eye ; aspire after pu- 
 rity of heart, for that eye extendeth even there ; 
 and, feeling your inability for this mighty un- 
 dertaking, seek continually a power from God ; 
 a power which he alone can give ; a power adapt- 
 ed to your utmost want, and which is promised 
 to every one that asks it. In your progress 
 through life, indeed, you will not fail to meet 
 with those by whom this momentous truth is 
 treated with derision, as the vision of fanaticism, 
 unworthy of a philosophical mind. But never 
 allow yourselves to be imposed upon by names ; 
 N 
 
146 CULTURE, ETC., OF THE MIND. 
 
 and never suppose there can be anything un- 
 philosophical in the belief that an influence 
 should be exerted on the mind by Him who 
 framed the wondrous fabric : and be assured you 
 follow the dictates of the most exalted philoso- 
 phy when you commit yourselves to him as the 
 guide of your youth ; when you resign your- 
 selves to that guidance, and ask that powerful 
 aid both for your conduct through this life and 
 your preparation for the life which is to come. 
 
THINK ON THESE THINGS 
 
THINK ON THESE THINGS. 
 
 "Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever 
 things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things 
 are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are 
 of good report ; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, 
 think on these things." — Philippians, iv., 8. 
 
 When a man's attention is directed to the 
 solemn inquiry, what is his moral condition in 
 the sight of God, he cannot fail to perceive 
 that the answer is chiefly to be sought for in 
 the discipline of the mind. His external con- 
 duct is the only test by which his character 
 can be estimated by his fellow-men ; but this, 
 it is obvious, may be guided by motives and 
 principles of a very inferior or even selfish de- 
 scription ; principles which would not bear the 
 inspection of man, far less the scrutiny of Him 
 who cannot be deceived by external appear- 
 ance, but whose eye looketh directly into the 
 heart. This important consideration is brought 
 before us in the most forcible manner in vari- 
 ous parts of Scripture ; and the solemn truth 
 is impressed upon our serious attention, that a 
 N2 
 
150 THINK ON THESE THINGS. 
 
 man may hold a fair and respectable charac- 
 ter in the estimation of men, while he is in a 
 state of moral degradation in the eye of God. 
 Whenever this subject is referred to in Scrip- 
 ture, accordingly, we find the condition of the 
 heart viewed as of equal importance with a 
 man's conduct and character in life, or even 
 brought forward as holding a more essential 
 place in determining his condition as a moral 
 being. "Keep thy heart with all diligence," 
 says one of the inspired writers, " for out of it 
 are the issues of life." " Let the wicked for- 
 sake his way," says another, " and the unrigh- 
 teous man his thoughts, and let him return unto 
 the Lord." When the Psalmist, again, prays 
 the Eternal One to scrutinize most rigidly his 
 moral condition, it is by saying, " Search me, 
 O God, and know my heart ; try me, and know 
 my thoughts, and see if there be any wicked 
 way in me, and lead me in the way everlast- 
 ing." And in another passage by the same 
 writer, the discipline of the heart is placed 
 upon a level with those great principles of ve- 
 racity and justice, the least infringement of 
 which exposes a man to the unanimous con- 
 demnation of his fellow-men. " Who shall as- 
 
THINK ON THESE THINGS. 151 
 
 cend into the hill of the Lord, and who shall 
 stand in his holy place; he that hath clean 
 hands and a pure heart, who hath not lifted 
 up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully." 
 ** Blessed," says our Lord himself, "are the 
 pure in heart, for they shall see God." 
 
 In all these passages of Scripture, and many 
 others of similar import, there is distinctly and 
 fully recognised the important principle, that 
 we have a power over the succession of our 
 thoughts, and the subjects to which they are 
 directed. A deep and solemn responsibility 
 thus arises, respecting the government of the 
 mind ; and to every one who feels, as he ought, 
 this responsibility, it is of the greatest conse- 
 quence to keep in view in what the voluntary 
 po-wer over the mind consists, and what are 
 the principles on which it ought to be exer- 
 cised by every rational being. Without this, 
 a man may be lamenting defects in his mental 
 condition which refer to emotions over which 
 he has no direct control, and may thus waste 
 himself in useless regrets, instead of directing 
 his earnest efforts to those mental processes, 
 and those points of mental discipline over 
 which he can really exert a power. He may 
 
152 THINK ON THESE THINGS. 
 
 be lamenting his want of faith and confidence 
 in God, of love to him, of submission to his will, 
 and delight in his service, while he is neglect- 
 ing that diligent and habitual direction of the 
 thoughts to the character, the works, and the 
 will of God, from which, under the power of the 
 Holy Spirit, these emotions naturally spring. 
 
 On this important subject, a beautiful har- 
 mony pervades the economy of the mind. The 
 emotions of the heart, properly so called, are 
 mental conditions over which we have not a 
 direct power; we cannot call them forth at 
 our will, however much we may desire to ex- 
 perience them, and however much we may 
 feel that in them really consists the healthy 
 condition of the soul. But these emotions are 
 called into action by certain truths, when these 
 truths have acquired that established place 
 which their nature demands in the economy 
 of the mind ; that is, when they have been the 
 subjects of steady attention and serious reflec- 
 tion, adapted to their supreme importance. 
 Now this is a process of the understanding 
 over which every man feels that he has a pow- 
 er. He can direct his thoughts to any subject 
 he wills — can keep them directed to it for such 
 
THINK ON THESE THINGS. 153 
 
 a period as he pleases, and withdraw them at 
 his will. He has within his reach the means 
 of acquiring the knowledge of those truths 
 which, as a moral and responsible being, most 
 of all concern him ; and he has the power to 
 make these truths the subject of that calm at- 
 tention and serious reflection, which may lead 
 to their natural and legitimate influence over 
 the economy of the heart. In these great con- 
 cerns, also, he is encouraged to look for the 
 mighty Spirit of all truth, who alone has pow- 
 er to purify the heart, and to produce a con- 
 dition of the moral system which diffuses it- 
 self, by inseparable consequence, over the 
 whole character and conduct. It is thus that, 
 according to the statement of Scripture, " out 
 of the heart are the issues of life ;" and it is 
 thus alone that the character can be framed 
 and regulated in a manner worthy of a moral 
 being. When a man's attention is directed 
 only to his conduct in life, he probably looks 
 in a great measure to the approbation of men ; 
 that culture of the character which has re- 
 spect to the approbation of God, must have its 
 origin in the heart. 
 
 Such, in a striking manner, was the experi- 
 
154 THINK ON THESE THINGS. 
 
 ence of the Psalmist, whose mind had thus 
 been disciplined to an habitual contemplation 
 of the character and the will of God. " O how 
 I love thy law: it is my meditation all the day.'* 
 " Thy word have I hid in my heart, that I might 
 not sin against thee." " When I remember 
 thee upon my bed, and meditate on thee in the 
 night watches — in the shadow of thy wings 
 will I rejoice." And it was by such a process 
 of the understanding, directing his thoughts to 
 this highest of all subjects, that he experienced 
 those wondrous effects of the truth on the 
 whole economy both of his understanding and 
 his heart, which he has described in a manner 
 so striking and so comprehensive : " The law 
 of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul ; the 
 testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise 
 the simple ; the statutes of the Lord are right, 
 rejoicing the heart ; the commandment of the 
 Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes." 
 
 From this view of the subject, we must per- 
 ceive the deep and important influence which 
 is exercised over our condition by the govern- 
 ment of the thoughts. It, in fact, lies at the 
 foundation of the whole character, both intel- 
 lectual and moral ; and the man who would 
 
THINK ON THESE THINGS. 155 
 
 apply himself to this high pursuit with an at- 
 tention adequate to its supreme importance, 
 must begin by a diligent exercise of the pow- 
 er which he feels that he possesses over the 
 current of his thoughts, and a careful selection 
 of the subjects to which they are habitually di- 
 rected. The leading defects which attach to 
 individuals on this great subject are probably 
 referable to three heads. 
 
 I. An absolute engrossment of the mind with 
 things in themselves valuable and important, 
 but of a temporal or external character — 
 whether the details of business, or the pursuits 
 of science ; while no leisure is left, and no in- 
 clination cherished, for those great inquiries 
 which relate to a man's own moral condition, 
 or to the supreme importance of future and 
 eternal things. 
 
 II. A habit of listless vacuity or inactivity 
 of mind, which leads it to be engrossed by ab- 
 solute trifles, and prevents it from applying it- 
 self to any subject with energy or interest. 
 
 III. A habit of dwelling in a world of ima- 
 gination, amid visions of fancy and waking 
 dreams, which occupy the mind in all those in- 
 tervals in which it can escape from the neces- 
 
156 THINK ON THESE THINGS. 
 
 sary engagements of life, to the exclusion of 
 those various objects of high importance to 
 which such intervals ought to be devoted. 
 
 For the correction qf such mental habits as 
 these, there are tv^o leading objects to which 
 the attention ought to be carefully and steadily 
 directed. The first is, to control and regulate 
 the current of the thoughts, so as to cultivate 
 the habit of having them steadily and continu- 
 ously directed to subjects of adequate impor- 
 tance. We thus contend equally against the 
 two great evils of listless frivolity and vacuity 
 of mind on the one hand, and on the other, 
 of having the mind occupied with visions of 
 the fancy entirely unworthy of its high desti- 
 ny. This control of the thoughts, indeed, re- 
 quires an effort, and to those who have long 
 neglected it, the effort at first is great. But it 
 becomes easier the longer it is pursued, until it 
 is gradually fixed into a habit — the invaluable 
 habit of a disciplined mind. For promoting 
 ^ the cultivation of this habit, the second great 
 object to which I have referred is, to have al- 
 ways in view, or, if I may use such an expres- 
 sion, within reach, subjects of thought of ade- 
 quate importance, to which the mind may read- 
 
THINK ON THESE THINGS. 157 
 
 ily and easily betake itself in all intervals of 
 disengagement from the necessary avocations 
 of life. To one who feels the deep importance 
 of the subject, and is anxious to pursue this 
 course of mental discipline, the great difficulty 
 that presents itself is to fix upon a plan for 
 doing so, with a proper choice of subjects of 
 reflection, and a proper distribution of them, 
 so that the mind may be duly occupied, and 
 yet not engrossed with any one subject to the 
 exclusion of others that may be of equal val- 
 ue. Now, in the sacred Scriptures, along with 
 numerous exhortations to this regulation of the 
 thoughts, we have various and most important 
 instructions in regard to the manner of con- 
 ducting it, and the subjects of high importance 
 to which the thoughts ought to be directed as 
 their chief and highest object of serious atten- 
 tion. The passage before us contains a beau- 
 tiful code of rules for this purpose, opening 
 up a wide and comprehensive field for mental 
 exercise of the highest and noblest kind, while, 
 at the same time, the various subjects are so 
 placed before us as to point out their relation to 
 each other, and the degree and order in which 
 the mind ought to be directed to each of them. 
 O 
 
158 THINK ON THESE THINGS. 
 
 I. The first of these objects to which we are 
 exhorted to direct the serious attention of the 
 mind is Truth : " Think on whatsoever things 
 are truer The operation of the mind in re- 
 gard to truth is twofold; The first is to ac- 
 quire a knowledge of the truths, and to exam- 
 ine the evidence on which we are to receive 
 them. In respect to those great truths which 
 concern our relation to God, this leads us to a 
 diligent study of the word of God, as well as 
 of his works — and a care and diligence to ex- 
 amine what opinions we have formed on this 
 supreme inquiry, and on what grounds we have 
 formed them ; what are the objects of belief 
 which we have received as true, and why have 
 we done so. Having, by such a careful ex- 
 ercise of the powders of attention and judgment, 
 acquired a knowledge and a conviction of the 
 truths, the next exercise of the mind is to 
 make them subjects of thought in such a man- 
 ner that they may produce their proper influ- 
 ence on the moral condition. Now there may- 
 be much knowledge of truth, and much care- 
 ful study of evidence, while this great mental 
 exercise is neglected ; and the most important 
 truths may thus be received as matters of cold 
 
THINK ON THESE THINGS. 159 
 
 and barren speculation, yielding no results, and 
 exerting no influence over the character. It is 
 against this mental condition that the exhorta- 
 tion of the apostle seems to be directed, call- 
 ing upon us not only to know the truths, but 
 to make them subjects of thought and reflec- 
 tion, so that they may fix their influence on the 
 moral economy of the mind. Do we believe 
 it to be a truth that we are every moment ex- 
 posed to the inspection of a being of infinite 
 perfection and infinite purity, from whose all- 
 seeing eye nothing can cover us, and to whom 
 even the thoughts of the heart and the whole 
 moral condition within are constantly open ; if 
 we make this solemn truth the subject of fre- 
 quent and serious thought, what influence must 
 it not produce upon the discipline of the heart, 
 and the whole of our conduct in every rela- 
 tion of life. No man can put away from him 
 the truth that a day is fast approaching when 
 he must lie down in the grave ; but it is also a 
 truth, that another day will come, with equal 
 certainty, when, at the voice of the Eternal 
 One, the graves shall yield up their dead, and 
 those who have slept in death shall arise to 
 judgment. Did we think of this truth with a 
 
160 THINK ON THESE THINGS. 
 
 seriousness in any degree adapted to its sol- 
 ennn interest, and make the reflection a fre- 
 quent and habitual exercise of the mind, it 
 could not fail to act upon every rational man 
 with a power which would be irresistible. It 
 could not fail to make him feel the value of the 
 soul which is to live for ever ; and to force upon 
 him the habitual conviction, how trivial in im- 
 portance are the highest concerns of time, and 
 how big with momentous interest are the con- 
 cerns of eternity. 
 
 The exercise of a regulated mind in think- 
 ing on such truths as these is something wide- 
 ly different from a simple acknowledgment of 
 them as a part of our belief, with whatever 
 sincerity this may be made. It is to place 
 them before tis by that realizing act of the mind, 
 by which things future and things unseen are 
 invested with the power of actual and present 
 existence. It is by an act of imagination or 
 conception to represent to ourselves the actual 
 and dread solemnities of that day, when the 
 last trumpet shall sound, and those who have 
 so long slept in death shall come forth togeth- 
 er as living men, and stand before God. It is 
 to realize the appearance of the great white 
 
THINK ON THESE THINGS. 161 
 
 throne, and him who shall sit upon it, from 
 whose face the earth and the heavens shall flee 
 away. It is to place ourselves before him in 
 the attitude of those who are to render their 
 account — to suppose the question put to us — 
 and to ask ourselves seriously what we shall 
 answer. It is to represent our whole moral 
 history, and all the secrets of our hearts, then 
 disclosed, and conscience awaking, with all its 
 power to condemn, independently of the sen- 
 tence of the omniscient Judge. Such is the 
 exercise of a disciplined mind in reference to 
 momentous truths like these ; and such is the 
 mental process which is really suited to our 
 condition as moral beings. When we thus 
 place the great realities of things future and 
 unseen against the lying vanities of life and 
 against the empty visions of a frivolous mind — 
 this is to meet the spirit of the apostle's exhor- 
 tation," to think on whatsoever things are true." 
 To a mind which has been disciplined to this 
 sound and healthy exercise of its power, wide 
 is the field of truth in which it may have oc- 
 cupation, at once the most instructive and the 
 most interesting. From the planet revolving 
 in its appointed orbit, to the economy of the in- 
 02 
 
162 THINK ON THESE THINGS, 
 
 sect that flutters in the sunbeam, it will find 
 matter for studying, with renewed admiration 
 and wonder, the perfections of Him of whom 
 they witness. In the course of Providence it 
 will trace the workings of the same almighty 
 wisdom and power, and the moral attributes 
 of his character will be contemplated with still 
 higher feelings of adoration as they are dis- 
 played in the economy of redemption through 
 " God manifest in the flesh." But the exercise 
 of such a mind in regard to the eternal incom- 
 prehensible One has effects of a more person- 
 al kind, and bearing directly upon its own mor- 
 al condition. It leads a man to place himself 
 as in the constant and immediate presence of 
 God, and to feel that his whole conduct in life, 
 and the most secret desires, motives, and im- 
 aginations of the heart, are at all times open 
 to Divine inspection. It thus impresses upon 
 him the important inquiry whether his condi- 
 tion within will bear the scrutiny of that eye. 
 In every decision of life, it leads him to inquire 
 what will be pleasing to God ; and, feeling con- 
 tinually his own weakness and his liability to 
 err, it leads him to look habitually for Divine 
 direction and Divine strength to carry him 
 
THINK ON THESE THINGS. 163 
 
 through all the dangers and difficulties of life, 
 and to prepare and purify him for the life which 
 is to come. 
 
 There are still other mental exercises by 
 which we may be profitably occupied in think- 
 ing on things that are true. There is a rest- 
 less, active faculty of the mind, which is ever 
 on the wing, ranging from scene to scene, often 
 with little restraint from reason or truth. To 
 what important purpose might this faculty be 
 applied, were it sternly trained to confine its 
 excursions to " things which are true." By 
 means of it we might convey ourselves back 
 to the ancient kingdom of Judea, and place 
 ourselves in actual companionship with the 
 meek and lowly Jesus. We might listen to 
 his instructions, and hear him talk by the way, 
 till our hearts burned within us. We might 
 accompany him through his unwearied course 
 of devoted benevolence and kindness, till we 
 felt ourselves constrained to follow his steps. 
 We might attend him to Calvary, and witness 
 the accomplishment of that triumph by which 
 he abolished death, and brought in everlasting 
 righteousness. We might be early at the sep- 
 ulchre, and hear the angel proclaim the won- 
 
164 THINK ON THESE THINGS. 
 
 drous tidings, " he is not here ; he is risen, as 
 ne said ; come, see the place where the Lord 
 jay." We might follow him farther still. We 
 might enter, in exalted conception, even into 
 ihe upper sanctuary, and present ourselves 
 among the ten thousand times ten thousand of 
 the redeemed who are around the throne, and 
 join in their triumphant song, " Worthy is the 
 Lamb that was slain," till earth and all its con- 
 cerns vanish from our view. Oh ! what a pow- 
 er might be produced upon all our steps on 
 earth by s6ch exercises as these — what an in- 
 fluence might the mind bring down upon itself, 
 were it thus disciplined to the habit of " think- 
 ing on whatsoever things are true." 
 
 Such is a slight and imperfect outline of the 
 nature of those subjects of thought to which 
 the apostle exhorts us to direct the mind. The 
 exhortation is of a most comprehensive char- 
 acter. It is calculated to occupy the mind with 
 high and important truths, to the exclusion of 
 those frivolous follies and vain imaginations 
 which are so ready to fill that dark chamber 
 of imagery of which every one is conscious 
 who looks within. It is calculated to rouse to 
 active and serious thought the dead and dor- 
 
THINK ON THESE THINGS. 165 
 
 mant feelings of those whose minds have never 
 been disciplined to the habit of thinking on 
 any subject with intense attention; and, far- 
 ther, there is a peculiar and comprehensive 
 power in the term " whatsoever things." This 
 reminds us not only to be careful to have the 
 mind occupied with truth, but to have it direct- 
 ed with suitable care to all the truths which de- 
 mand our attention as immortal beings. There 
 is also a peculiar force in the expression "think 
 on these things ;" for the word which is trans- 
 lated think has in the original a most compre- 
 hensive import. It means, not simply to think, 
 in the ordinary acceptation of the term, on the 
 matters which are the subjects of thought, but 
 to consider them, to judge of them, to reason 
 upon them, and draw conclusions from them. 
 The expression thus implies a continued and 
 intense application of the mind to the truths, 
 so that we may deduce from them all the con- 
 clusions and principles which they are calcu- 
 lated to yield as matters of faith, and all that 
 influence which they are fitted to produce upon 
 the emotions of the heart, and the w^hole con- 
 duct of life. Such and so extensive appears 
 to be the mental process which the apostle en- 
 
166 THINK ON THESE THINGS. 
 
 joins, and the field of mental exercise which 
 he presents to us, when he calls upon us to 
 •* think on whatsoever things are true.** 
 
 II. The exercise of the mind, as applied to 
 such varied and momentous truths, must not 
 be confined to a mere speculative acknowledg- 
 ment of them as matters of belief. It must be 
 carefully extended to that mental condition by 
 which the truths so received shall be habitual- 
 ly used as great moral causes, calculated to 
 exert a directing and controlling power over 
 the whole economy of the heart and the char- 
 acter. This view of the subject has been al- 
 ready referred to. It seems to be more par- 
 ticularly intended by the second part of the 
 system of mental discipline laid down by the 
 apostle, " think on whatsoever things are hoTk- 
 est:' 
 
 As the part of the apostle's exhortation ino- 
 mediately succeeding this calls us to think on 
 whatsoever things are just — referring clearly 
 to our conduct towards our fellow-men — I am 
 disposed to regard the term honest as express- 
 ing what may be called honesty, integrity, or 
 consistency of mind. Taken in connexion 
 with the former exhortation, to think on what- 
 
THINK ON THESE THINGS. 167 
 
 soever things are irue^ it seems to imply an 
 honest and sincere desire to carry out the 
 truths so contemplated to all their consequen- 
 ces and tendencies to ourselves as moral beings. 
 Thus, in our Lord's parable of the sower, the 
 seed which fell into good ground and brought 
 forth abundant fruit is said to represent a man 
 who receives the truth into an honest and good 
 heart; that is, a mind disposed carefully to 
 meditate on the truths so received, and sincere- 
 ly desirous of carrying them into all the effects 
 which they ought to produce upon the char- 
 acter and conduct. Such is the discipline of 
 a mind which " brings forth fruit with pa- 
 tience." Whoever looks seriously into the 
 processes of his own mind will be compelled 
 to acknowledge how prone we are to neglect 
 this most important part of mental discipline. 
 We turn our attention to truths ; we study their 
 evidence, and take them as a part of our creed ; 
 we learn to argue in their defence, and to de- 
 tect wuth critical precision sophistries which 
 are opposed to them ; but how much and how 
 often do we fail in the more important exer- 
 cise of pressing home the truths in all their 
 bearings upon ourselves. How do we fail in 
 
168 THINK ON THESE THINGS. 
 
 pressing the solemn inquiry, if these things are 
 indeed true, what manner of persons ought we 
 to be ; and are we, in the condition of our hearts 
 and the whole of our conduct in life, such as 
 becometh those who really believe them? Do 
 I think of the solemn truths which relate to the 
 character of God — and his all-seeing eye being 
 ever upon me ; then what influence hath this 
 consideration upon my moral feelings ? Do I 
 think of a coming judgment, and that, stripped 
 of all disguise, I must bear my part in the dread 
 solemnities of that day — how seriously and how 
 frequently do I ask myself, how shall I appear? 
 A devout and habitual inquiry of this descrip- 
 tion seems to constitute that honesty of mind 
 which the apostle here enjoins ; and he then 
 goes on, in a very striking manner, to impress 
 the consideration of those leading points of 
 character which ought to be the habitual aim 
 of every one whose mind has been thus disci- 
 plined. These are referred to four heads — 
 justice, purity, benevolence, and a kind consid- 
 eration for the feelings of other men : ** what- 
 soever things are just, whatsoever things are 
 pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatso- 
 ever things are of good report, think on these 
 things." 
 
THINK ON THESE THINGS. 169 
 
 III. The exhortation to think on whatsoever 
 things are ^*W5^, leads a man to an anxious con- 
 sideration of the various duties which he owes 
 to other men in every relation of Hfe. It di- 
 rects him, in the first place, to the obligations 
 of justice and integrity, in every kind of trans- 
 action in which the interests of others are con- 
 cerned : and it goes mnch farther than this, ex- 
 tending to a variety of circumstances, which 
 may affect other men in their character, their 
 feelings, or the estimation in which they are 
 held by those around them. But the exhorta- 
 tion goes farther still, and leads a man not only 
 to attend to the strict requirements of justice, 
 when particular cases are strongly brought be- 
 fore him, but he is to " think on these things" — 
 he is anxiously to inquire what are the duties 
 which he owes to the various individuals with 
 whom his situation brings him into relation — 
 and whether he is discharging them in a man- 
 ner which will bear the dread scrutiny of a 
 Judge of unerring purity and justice. He 
 who carefully and seriously thinks on whatso- 
 ever things are just, will thus rigidly question 
 himself what are the duties which pertain to 
 his particular situation, and how he is dischar- 
 P 
 
170 THINK ON THESE THINGS. 
 
 ging them; what are his duties as a parent, as 
 a child, as a master, as a servant, as a subject, 
 as a neighbour, as a friend, as a person holding 
 some situation of public responsibility, or as 
 possessed of wealth, acquirements, talents, or 
 influence, which give him the means of useful- 
 ness ? In all such relations, what degree of se- 
 rious attention is he directing to the sacred 
 trust which is reposed in him? Is he carefully 
 employing his wealth, his talents, his influence, 
 for the glory of God and the good of men? Or, 
 without any imputation on his character for 
 actual integrity and justice, is he wasting his 
 days in a course of listless indolence, selfish 
 indulgence, or frivolous occupation, far beneath 
 his high destiny as a moral being ? It is easy 
 for a man thus to sit down in a kind of respect- 
 able indifference and self-indulgence, without 
 any such breach of his duty to others as may 
 challenge the notice of his fellow-men. But a 
 new field is opened to his view, when, placing 
 himself in the immediate presence of God, and 
 in the light of an eternal day, he views his 
 various duties, responsibilities, and means of 
 usefulness, and with a deep sense of the account 
 he has to render to Him who searches the heart, 
 
THINK ON THESE THINGS. 171 
 
 devotes himself to the high requirement of 
 thinking "on whatsoever things are just." 
 
 IV. Apart entirely from the duties which 
 belong to every man in the various relations 
 of life, there is a class of responsibilities of the 
 most solemn kind, which pertain more imme- 
 diately to himself. These relate to his own 
 moral condition in the sight of Him who is not 
 deceived by external appearance, but who ri- 
 gidly tries the motives and principles within, 
 and rigidly scrutinizes the condition of the 
 heart. The apostle gives its full weight to 
 this important consideration, when he calls 
 upon us to "think on whatsoever things are 
 furer While the former part of his exhorta- 
 tion leads us to the duties which we owe to our 
 fellow-men, this directs us, in a more especial 
 manner, to the relation in w^hich we stand to 
 God. It includes a wide and extensive class of 
 the moral responsibilities of the inner man. It 
 embraces many qualities of character of which 
 human judgment takes no cognizance, but which 
 are open to the inspection of Him who seeth 
 in secret. It extends to the condition of the 
 heart, to the motives of the conduct, the direc- 
 tion of the desires and affections of the mind. 
 
 ,IVB 
 
172 THINK ON THESE THINGS. 
 
 and to the trains which chiefly occupy the 
 thoughts when intervals of leisure set them 
 free from the necessary engagements of life. 
 Are these such as- will bear the inspection of a 
 being of infinite purity, or is there not in that 
 chamber of imagery much, very much, which 
 no man would like to be exposed to the view 
 of his fellow-men ? If so, does not the impres- 
 sion transfix him with awe when he remem- 
 bers that it is all exposed to the eye of God? 
 Whatever may be the position which be holds 
 in the estimation of men, how can a man live 
 on in calm indifference when he feels that the 
 discipline of his mind is far from God ; and hovir 
 can he fail to perceive that, if he wishes to 
 know his real moral aspect in the sight of the 
 Eternal One, he has only to look calmly and 
 seriously within? And how can he fail to es- 
 timate the weight and the importance of the 
 apostle's exhortation, and to feel the extent of 
 the truth which it conveys, that there can be no 
 purity in the sight of God unless the habitual 
 aim and desire of the heart be to " think on 
 whatsoever things are pure V* 
 
 Now it is always to be borne in mind that 
 the whole of the important exhortation we have 
 
THINK ON THESE THINGS. 178 
 
 been considering recognises the great prin- 
 ciple of our mental constitution, by which we 
 can exert a direct control over the thoughts. 
 Every one feels that he has this power, how- 
 ever much he may neglect its exercise. In 
 various parts of Scripture there is impressed 
 upon us, in the strongest manner, the deep re- 
 sponsibility which attaches to the due culture 
 of this voluntary power, and how much it lies 
 at the foundation of a sound moral condition. 
 We are taught to keep the heart with all dili- 
 gence, because out of it are the issues of life. 
 While the wicked man is called upon to forsake 
 his way, the unrighteous is, with equal author- 
 ity, required to forsake his thoughts, implying 
 that the one of these moral processes is under 
 our control as well as the other. And we feel 
 that it is so. However much the mind may 
 be disposed to fly ofl' into trains of vanity, from 
 neglect of a sound mental culture, we feel that 
 we cafi curb it in its career of folly, and bind 
 it down to objects and trains of thought more 
 worthy of its high destiny. We know, indeed, 
 that this requires an eflTort, and that, when the 
 effort is withdrawn, the mind again either sinks 
 into listlessness, or wanders off into some train 
 P2 
 
174 THINK ON THESE THINGS. 
 
 of thought which former habits have rendered 
 more congenial. But such habits have arisen 
 from a neglect of the due culture of this im- 
 portant power which we possess over the mind ; 
 and the same principle leads us to the process 
 by which the habits are to be corrected — hab- 
 its which are so destructive of the health of the 
 mind. This consists in having at all times 
 ready to be brought before it objects of thought 
 which are really deserving of its powers, and 
 of cultivating the habit of having the thoughts 
 directed to them with a steady and continued 
 attention. Such objects are to be found with 
 little difficulty in the works, the word, and the 
 perfections of God ; and a special power from 
 Heaven is promised to every one who feels the 
 supreme importance of this great undertaking, 
 and who seeks this power to conduct him to 
 its accomplishment. But while we habitually 
 look for this power as essential to our success 
 in this high design, let us beware of imagining 
 that we may sit still in indolence and await its 
 coming. Let us study diligently the direct 
 control which we have over the processes of 
 the mind ; let us observe how we can banish 
 all images and trains of thought which are un- 
 
THINK ON THESE THINGS. 175 
 
 worthy of a sound mental condition, and in- 
 vite and cherish such as are of an opposite 
 tendency; and the conviction will be forced 
 upon every rational man, that his solemn re- 
 sponsibility is fully in accordance with the ac- 
 tual power which he possesses over the pro- 
 cesses of the mind, when, as the great test of 
 his moral condition within, he is called upon 
 to " think on whatsoever things are pure/' 
 
 V. The last part of the exhortation leads us 
 to think on whatsoever things are lovely, and 
 whatsoever things are of good report. With- 
 out entering upon any minute analysis of the 
 different qualities expressed by these two terms, 
 it is evident that they are meant to direct us 
 to all those attributes of Christian character 
 and conduct by which a devoted servant of 
 Christ may make his light shine before men, 
 and compel them to glorify his Father who is 
 in heaven. They lead us to all those gentle 
 and amiable qualities which become the disci- 
 ples of the meek and lowly Jesus— to that 
 spirit which delights in doing good, even to the 
 evil and unthankful, and anxiously seeks out 
 for itself opportunities in which this disposition 
 may be gratified. They include all those qual- 
 
176 THINK ON THESE THINGS. 
 
 ities of the temper, character, and conduct 
 which recommend themselves to men of every 
 class and of every name — all that is meek and 
 lowly — gentle and easy to be entreated — full 
 of mercy and of good fruits, without partiality 
 and without hypocrisy. They include the 
 fruits of the Spirit, which are love, joy, peace, 
 long-suffering, meekness, gentleness, patience. 
 They extend to the forgiveness of injuries, and 
 to all the exercises of that charity which suf- 
 fereth long and is kind. Such qualities are of 
 good report among men ; there is no despising 
 or perverting them; and they force upon all 
 the conviction of what a different scene the 
 world would present, were the conduct of the 
 mass of mankind regulated by the high princi- 
 ple of Christian kindness. 
 
 Now, in regard to all these attributes of char- 
 acter and conduct, the exhortation does not 
 merely require us to practise them when we 
 are placed in circumstances which directly call 
 upon us to do so, but we are to go in search 
 of the circumstances — we are to " think on 
 these things." We are diligently to inquire 
 where there is any virtue, where there is any 
 ' praise ; who within our reach are in want of 
 
THINK ON THESE THINGS. 177 
 
 our kindness, and in what nnanner we can best 
 consult their comfort and relieve their distress- 
 es. Are there within the sphere of our influ- 
 ence those over whom we might exercise a 
 power in rescuing them from ignorance, fri- 
 volity, or vice — those whom we might be in- 
 strumental in leading to serious thought on the 
 subjects which concern their eternal peace? 
 Are there those to whom we ought to exercise 
 forbearance or forgiveness, or those among 
 whom we might act the part of peacemakers? 
 Have we heard of the fatherless or the wid- 
 ows in their affliction 1 Has the slightest no- 
 tice reached us of the bereaved, the helpless, 
 or the destitute ? Let us think on these things ; 
 let us think of their wants, their sufferings, and 
 their feelings, till we make these feelings in 
 some measure our own. Let us not wait for 
 the call of importunity, but, under the influ- 
 ence of these feelings, hasten to their aid, cov- 
 eting earnestly the high design of entering the 
 abodes of sorrow and suffering as messengers 
 of mercy. Such was he who humbled him- 
 self, and became a man of sorrows, and such 
 it becomes his disciples to be. He has left us 
 an example that we should follow his steps, 
 
178 THINK ON THESE THINGS. 
 
 and he watches with a jealous eye how we fol- 
 low him. Splendid deeds of public usefulness 
 are not required for meeting his notice, but 
 acts of kindness, done in a spirit of devoted- 
 ness towards himself, to the weakest, the mean- 
 est, the humblest of his people ; " for verily I 
 say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it 
 unto one of the least of these, ye have done 
 it unto me." 
 
 The whole of this important subject partic- 
 ularly deserves the serious attentiori of the 
 young. That regulation of the thoughts which 
 is so essential to a sound moral condition is in 
 a remarkable degree under the influence of 
 habit ; and the manner in which this habit is 
 cultivated in early life exerts a deep and vital 
 influence over the whole character. Study, 
 then, with anxious care, those processes of 
 thought of which you are conscious when you 
 look within. Observe how you can, by a 
 steady effort, direct the thoughts to any sub- 
 ject you please, and observe how, when this 
 eff'ort is withdrawn, they wander off' into fri- 
 volities and follies. Remark how much time is 
 often allowed to go to waste, while the mind 
 is either sunk in listless apathy, or engrossed 
 
TUINK ON THESE THINGS. 179 
 
 by trifles no better than dreams, and how it is 
 thus incapacitated or indisposed for those inqui- 
 ries of infinite and eternal moment which claim 
 its first and highestregard. Submit not thus to 
 be the sport and the victim of every wild de- 
 lusion that fancy frames, but devote yourselves 
 determinedly to the high design of having the 
 processes of thought under stern and rigid con- 
 trol. Select with care the subjects to which 
 they ought to be directed, and cultivate the 
 habit of directing them to these with steady 
 and continued attention. The practice will be- 
 come easier the longer it is pursued, until it be- 
 comes the confirmed habit of the mind ; and it 
 is a habit which will diffuse an influence of the 
 most important kind, both on the tranquillity of 
 the mind itself, and the culture of its highest 
 and noblest faculties. This influence will be 
 felt in reference to every pursuit to which you 
 can direct your attention ; but our present ob- 
 ject is its bearing upon the highest of all con- 
 cerns — that which relates to the culture of the 
 soul for the life which is to come. In this view 
 of the subject, there are two points of mental 
 discipline to which I would more particularly 
 direct your attention. 
 
180 THINK ON THESE THINGS. 
 
 L Cultivate the habit of having the mind 
 under the influence of the things which are 
 not seen. Amid the daily engagements of life, 
 whether occupied by its business, or distracted 
 by its frivolities and follies, how remarkably 
 is the mind bound down to the power of objects 
 of sense. But know ye not that there are ob- 
 jects of another class — solemn realities, certain 
 though unseen, which claim your first and high- 
 est regard? Know ye not there is an eye 
 that never sleeps, which follows you through 
 every step of your journey of life — that there 
 is a world unseen, which is peopled by myri- 
 ads who have finished their earthly pilgrim- 
 age ? Know ye not that a day is approaching 
 with fearful rapidity when all w^ho move in the 
 busy scene around you shall be silent in death, 
 and that another day will come with equal cer- 
 tainty, when, at the voice of the Eternal One, 
 the dead shall arise incorruptible, and small 
 and great shall stand before God ? And there 
 is a heavenly state where naught that is un- 
 clean can enter, which is gladdened by the im- 
 mediate presence of God, and where the glo- 
 rified spirits around the throne find their chief 
 enjoyment in rendering homage to him who 
 
THINK ON THESE THINGS. 181 
 
 redeemed them to God by his blood. Are 
 there not some whom you loved when on earth 
 who have joined that blessed assembly ? and 
 do your thoughts never follow them into the 
 state of purity and peace on which they have 
 entered? Do you not seek to join them in their 
 new and refined enjoyments ? and do you not 
 spurn from you tne earth and all its offered 
 pleasures, while you thus, by the wondrous 
 power of faith, reunite yourselves to those 
 whom you love ? Alas ! that the mind should 
 be bound down to the slavery of objects of 
 sense, when it is endowed with powers to make 
 these great realities its own. Alas ! that it 
 should grovel amid the dust of earth, when it 
 can thus ascend into the upper sanctuary and 
 into the immediate presence of God, and bring 
 down from thence an influence adapted alike 
 to the duties, the difficulties, and the troubles 
 of life, and a light that shall shine upon every 
 step of the path which leads to this everlast- 
 ing inheritance. 
 
 Seek, then, earnestly the high attainment of 
 having the mind thus habitually under the in- 
 fluence of unseen and eternal things. Seek to 
 feel all the actual realizing impression of the 
 
 Q 
 
182 THINK ON THESE THINGS. 
 
 presence of God — the holiness of his character 
 — the purity of his law — and his all-seeing eye 
 following you in every step of life. Retire oft 
 from the tumult of the world, and think how 
 rapidly life is passing on, and how soon it will 
 be over ; think on the feelings of the bed of 
 death ; think on the dread solemnity of the 
 moment when the immortal spirit shall return 
 to him who gave it ; follow it, by intense con- 
 ception, beyond the boundary which divides 
 time from eternity ; think on the scene which 
 will then burst upon its view — the wondrous 
 disclosures of that fearful moment — and the 
 eternity that lies beyond it. Well might the 
 apostle confine himself to the short and simple 
 exhortation, " Think on these things ;" for if 
 they were thought on in a manner in any de- 
 gree adequate to their overwhelming interest, 
 their effect upon the whole conduct and char- 
 acter could not fail — the serious inquiry could 
 not but promptly follow, " What manner of 
 persons ought we to be." 
 
 11. Cultivate the habit of rigidly inquiring 
 into your own moral condition. This must be 
 considered as one of the most essential acquire- 
 ments of a disciplined mind — as of the most 
 
THINK ON THESE THINGS. 183 
 
 vital importance to the health of the soul. But 
 it is an exercise for which the mind feels little 
 inclination — which it is not disposed to press 
 with the closeness which it requires — and from 
 which, in fact, it would gladly escape. It can 
 therefore be accomplished only by determined 
 resolution, under a due sense of its eternal 
 moment, by firmly and distinctly putting cer- 
 tain questions to ourselves, and by firmly and 
 distinctly framing to ourselves the answers. 
 What are my leading objects in this life which 
 is hastening to a close, and what influence over 
 •them have the dread realities of a life which 
 is to come ? What are the leading motives of 
 my actions ? How far are they guided by a 
 desire to promote my own enjoyment or ad- 
 vantage, or to procure the approbation of men ; 
 and what instances can I trace in which they 
 are guided by a simple impression of duty to 
 God, or the power of devotedness and love to 
 the Redeemer? How am I discharging the 
 various duties which belong to the particular 
 situation in which I am placed, and how am I 
 improving the means and opportunities of 
 usefulness which that situation aflfords me? 
 When called to account speciaUy and individ- 
 
184 THINK ON THESE THINGS. 
 
 ually for each and all of these, what shall I 
 answer ? What is the moral condition of the 
 heart? What impression do I perceive there 
 of the presence of God, and a sense of the Sa- 
 viour's love — what feeling of the value of the 
 soul, and the realities of an eternal world ? 
 What are the chains of images and currents 
 of thought which chiefly occupy the mind, and 
 which seem to rise most spontaneously there 
 whenever the attention is set free from the 
 necessary engagements of life ? Are they such 
 as will bear the inspection of that Being of 
 unspotted purity whose eye traces them all? 
 Are they inclined to rise to things above, or to 
 be engrossed with the trifles of earth ? Are 
 they disposed to grasp at things w^hich are 
 true, or to luxuriate in listless indolence amid 
 visions and fancies as wild and as empty as 
 dreams ? What evidence do I perceive of a 
 progress in character — of an advancement in 
 holiness of heart and of life — of an increasing 
 preparation for the solemn hour when my state 
 of moral discipline shall close forever ? What 
 reason have I to believe that I am at peace 
 with God, and what are my hopes for a life 
 which is to come ? What fruit am I bringing 
 
THINK ON THESE THINGS. 185 
 
 forth to the glory of God — what conformity 
 am I acquiring to the example of Jesus ? Am 
 I living to myself, or am I living to God ? Am 
 I living for time, or am I living for eternity? 
 
 Let such questions as these be firmly and 
 distinctly proposed, and let them be firmly and 
 distinctly answered. From the moment that 
 such an exercise becomes the calm and estab- 
 lished habit of the mind, a new train of views 
 and feelings will arise, to which it was former- 
 ly a stranger, and with a sense of astonish- 
 ment that they were so little felt before. The 
 disclosure, indeed, will be fraught with matter 
 for deep humility and self-condemnation ; but 
 this is the healthy attitude of a soul as it seeks 
 to return to God. A new existence now opens 
 before its reviving powers, as it learns to rise 
 above the influence of objects of sense — as it 
 learns habitually to feel the presence and the 
 perfections of God, and to value the rich pro- 
 visions of his word, and the mighty power of 
 prayer. At each step which it takes in this 
 new life, indeed, it feels more deeply its want 
 of a righteousness which is not in itself, and 
 its need of a power which is not in man, to 
 carry forward the great work of preparing the 
 Q2 
 
186 THINK ON THESE THINGS. 
 
 immortal being for a life that is to come. But 
 the mind thus aroused to a sense of its moral 
 necessities is met by the wondrous adaptations 
 of the Gospel of peace, and a voice from heav- 
 en hails the aMrakening spirit with the tidings 
 of redemption. 
 
THE 
 
 CONTEST AND THE ARMOUR. 
 
THE 
 
 CONTEST AND THE ARMOUR. 
 
 " Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord and in the pow- 
 er of his might. Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may 
 be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle 
 not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against 
 powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world — against 
 spiritual wickedness in high places. Wherefore take unto you 
 the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in 
 the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand, therefore, 
 having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breast- 
 plate of righteousne^ss, and your feet shod with the preparation 
 of the Gospel of peace : above all, taking the shield of faith, 
 wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the 
 wicked : and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the 
 Spirit, which is the word of God : praying always with all pray- 
 er and supplication in the spirit, and watching thereunto with 
 all perseverance." — Ephesians, vl, 10-18. 
 
 The striking and comprehensive exhortation 
 contained in this passage stands in a connex- 
 ion which gives it intense and peculiar inter- 
 est. In the early part of the epistle, the inspi- 
 red writer had laid before his Ephesian con- 
 verts a brief but luminous view of the great 
 provisions of the Gospel of Christ, and he had 
 impressed the value of the blessings which had 
 
190 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 been conferred upon them, as Gentiles, in be- 
 ing admitted to a participation in this message 
 of mercy. He then goes on to deduce from 
 this the solemn obligation which was laid upon 
 them, of cultivating a character and conduct 
 becoming the Gospel — a conduct which should 
 mark a decided distinction between them and 
 the heathen from whom they had been separ- 
 ated. With this view he especially impress- 
 es upon them qualities of character which had 
 no place in the code of heathen morality, but 
 which hold a prominent rank in the high moral- 
 ity of the Gospel — lowliness, meekness, and 
 long-suffering, purity, veracity, kindness, for- 
 giveness, and peace. He warns them against 
 anger, wrath, clamour, evil speaking, and all 
 malice ; and entreats them to walk in love- 
 to be kind and tender-hearted towards each 
 other — forgiving one another, even as God, 
 for Christ's sake, had forgiven them. He ur- 
 ges upon them the cultivation of sobriety, pu- 
 rity, and chastity, not in conduct only, but also 
 in speech ; and he farther exhorts them to 
 Christian circumspection and watchfulness, re- 
 deeming the time, and to the culture of an ha- 
 bitual spirit of devotion, and of thankfulness 
 
THE ARMOUR. 191 
 
 towards God — " giving thanks always, for all 
 things, unto God and the father, in the name 
 of our Lord Jesus Christ." 
 
 These general exhortations he follows up by 
 others of a more personal or relative kind — the 
 duties of husbands and wives — of parents and 
 children — of masters and servants — impress- 
 ing upon all, who call themselves the disciples 
 of Jesus, the obligation of being distinguished, 
 in every relation of life, by a conduct becom- 
 ing that profession, and to be remarked by all 
 as widely different from the conduct and char- 
 acter of those who know not God, and obey 
 not the Gospel of Christ. 
 
 Having laid before them this high and ex- 
 tensive code of Christian morals, he concludes 
 his instructions by calling their attention to 
 that discipline of the heart by which alone this 
 consistency of character can be produced and 
 maintained, and without w^hich all culture of 
 the external conduct is a baseless fabric — fair, 
 it may be, in the eyes of men, but defective in 
 that which can give it any real value as re- 
 spects the sound condition of a moral being. 
 ** Finally, my brethren," he adds, as if this were 
 the crowning part of his whole exhortation, 
 
192 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 " be strong in the Lord, and in the power of 
 his might ; for we wrestle not against flesh 
 and blood, but against principalities — against 
 powers — against the rulers of the darkness of 
 this world — against spiritual wickedness in 
 high places : wherefore take unto you the 
 whole armour of God, that ye may be able to 
 withstand in the evil day, and having done all, 
 to stand." 
 
 Whoever feels, as he ought, the supreme im- 
 portance of the subject, must perceive that the 
 foundation of all true regulation of the char- 
 acter must be in the discipline of the heart. 
 This is laid down in the clearest manner in va- 
 rious parts of the Scripture ; and it is a prin- 
 ciple which carries its own evidence to every 
 reflecting mind. The points of supreme im- 
 portance in the inquiry, therefore, are. What 
 are the causes to which we are exposed that 
 have a tendency to impede this internal cul- 
 ture, and what are the means provided by 
 ' which the operation of these causes may be 
 counteracted in such a manner as may prevent 
 their deadly influence upon the most solemn of 
 all concerns, the culture of the soul for the life 
 which is to come ? In the passage before us 
 
THE ARMOUR. 198 
 
 these causes are referred to several heads, 
 which, when translated, as it were, from the 
 figurative language in which they are express- 
 ed, appear to be referable to three leading class- 
 es, without doing violence to the spirit of the 
 apostle's meaning. 
 
 I. The influence of malignant spirits, here 
 designated " principalities and powers." On 
 this solemn and mysterious subject, the knowl- 
 edge imparted to us is very hmited ; but, from 
 what is distinctly stated in various parts of 
 Scripture, we have every reason to believe 
 that we are exposed to such an agency — that 
 there are powers of darkness, which, in the 
 mighty purposes of the Eternal One, are per- 
 mitted to exert a certain influence over the hu- 
 man mind, but an influence of a limited nature, 
 the actual power of which depends very much 
 upon ourselves. It depends upon the solemn 
 consideration whether we steadily resist this 
 agency when we feel its first approaches to 
 the mind, or whether we calmly resign our- 
 selves to its influence. There is thus present- 
 ed to us a subject of the most solemn interest, 
 and one which demands our most earnest and 
 R 
 
194 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 serious attention as moral and responsible be- 
 ings. A consideration of the most solemn na- 
 ture it undoubtedly is, that there is a certain 
 state of mind — a certain rishig of desire — a cer- 
 tain evolvement of imagination, which marks 
 the hour and the power of darkness — a malig- 
 nant effort to destroy the moral health, and 
 place in jeopardy the safety of the soul. Let 
 •each arouse himself to all the danger and all 
 the solemnity of the moment. Let him rec- 
 ognise a power which others cannot see, that 
 is seeking his destruction. Let him see a hand 
 which others cannot see, that points to the ar- 
 mour by which the attack may be repelled. 
 The mighty conflict may be, as it were, the 
 work of a moment. In that dread moment 
 the assault may be made upon the feeble and 
 helpless being ; in that same moment, by the 
 feeble and helpless being having recourse to 
 the whole armour of God, the battle is won. 
 
 II. The blinding or darkening influence of 
 worldly pursuits and objects of sense — " the 
 rulers of the darkness of this world." Vari^ 
 ous are the forms in which the things of this 
 world occupy, engross, or distract the mind, 
 
 I 
 
THE ARMOUR. 195' 
 
 SO as to draw it astray from ihe due impression 
 of the great realities which are the objects of 
 faith. One devotes his whole regards to the 
 amusements and pleasures of life — a second to 
 wealth — a third to fame — a fourth to power. 
 More worthy in themselves, though often not 
 less engrossing, the high pursuits of literature 
 and science may be cultivated in a manner 
 which makes them referable to the same class 
 — the class of pursuits which look not beyond 
 the things of time. And then there are the 
 cares and the anxieties of life, which are apt 
 to occupy and distract the mind, bowing it 
 down, it may be, in such a manner, that even 
 while the world presents nothing that yields 
 satisfaction, the soul yet cleaves to it with the 
 eager aspiration, " Who will show us any 
 good ?" In whatever way the things of earth 
 may thus affect us, they are apt to exert a blind- 
 ing or darkening influence upon the mind, or 
 to act as a veil interposed between it and the 
 solemn realities of things which are not seen. 
 Who is there that has not, in one degree or 
 another, experienced this power ? In the mo- 
 ments of calm and serious thought — it may be 
 on the bed of sickness, in the time of affliction, 
 
196 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 or under some other circumstances which led a 
 man to retreat from the worl4 for a time, and 
 forced him to retire upon himself — who has 
 not heard the voice of conscience pleading for 
 God — who has not felt the dread realities of 
 eternal things — who has not had forced upon 
 him the conviction that he was living in vain? 
 And, when the peculiar circumstances had 
 passed by — when the mind was again engross- 
 ed with the active pursuits of life, who has not 
 experienced that the impression, which for the 
 time seemed so vivid, vanished as if it had nev- 
 er been ? Such is the power of the darkness 
 of this world. Thus, in the striking language 
 of Scripture, does the god of this world blind 
 the minds of them that believe not ; and thus, 
 according to the representation of our Lord 
 himself, do the cares of the world, the deceit- 
 fulness of riches, and the lust of other things, 
 choke the good seed of the Word, and render 
 it unfruitful. 
 
 III. " Spiritual wickedness in high places/* 
 The literal translation of the paragraph ap- 
 pears to be, " Spiritual things of corruption in 
 heavenlies." The word "heavenlies" may 
 
THE ARMOUR. 197 
 
 mean either heavenly places or heavenly things. 
 If we take the latter interpretation, the passage 
 will be, " spiritual things of corruption in heav- 
 enly things ;" which, without any violence, may 
 be considered as implying " the corrupt aver- 
 sion of the heart to heavenly things." Of the 
 enemies of the soul which are pointed at by 
 the apostle, this is perhaps the most uniform in 
 its agency. A man may retreat from the world, 
 its tumults, and its cares ; and he is often pla- 
 ced in circumstances in which he is compelled 
 to say that it presents nothing worthy of his 
 regard. Even the agency of the powers of 
 darkness we do not know to be constant and 
 unrelenting. But the enmity of the heart of 
 man, in its natural state, to God, is unchanging 
 and unceasing. God is not in all his thoughts, 
 and he cannot regard the Divine character 
 with any degree of satisfaction. He has no 
 inclination to look within, and to inquire what 
 is his own relation to a being of unspotted j;io-^ 
 liness. Heavenly things he cannot contem- 
 plate with any kind of interest, for the essence 
 of heaven is holiness, and holiness has in it no 
 beauty that can lead the natural heart to de- 
 sire it. And even with regard to those who 
 R2 
 
198 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 have been led to form some just conceptions 
 of the character of God, and the value of the 
 Gospel of peace, and to feel in some degree 
 the powers of a world to come, what daily- 
 cause have they to mourn over a soul that 
 cleaves to the dust — a mind that tends contin- 
 ually to start aside, and throw off the impres- 
 sions of things the most sacred and solemn — 
 to be occupied with anything rather than God ? 
 How much do they feel a law in their mem- 
 bers warring against the law of their minds ; 
 and how often, amid their daily conflict, and 
 the daily wanderings of their heart from God, 
 are they constrained to exclaim with the apos- 
 tle, " Oh wretched man that I am, who shall 
 deliver me V* 
 
 Having such enemies to contend with, both 
 from without and from within, and exposed to 
 their combined influence in every step through 
 this solemn scene of moral discipline, how shall 
 the feeble, unstable, and helpless being hope to 
 make any progress in the mighty work that is 
 before him. " I thank God," adds the apostle, 
 ** through Jesus Christ my Lord/' It is only 
 when we come as helpless sinners to the cross 
 
THE ARMOUR. 199 
 
 of the Redeemer that we can make the first 
 step in this momentous undertaking ; and we 
 cannot hope to make any progress in it, except 
 by looking to him continually, both as our righ- 
 teousness and our strength. " Abide in me," 
 says our Lord, " and I in you ; as the branch 
 cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in 
 the vine, no more can ye, except ye abide in 
 me" — " without me ye can do nothing." The 
 man who has learned to feel his own weakness 
 will learn also to know that he must not only 
 look to the Redeemer for the pardon of sin, but 
 must wait upon him continually for progressive 
 sanctification — for every step of advancement 
 in the Divine life, and for every victory over 
 those enemies of the soul which are so apt to 
 retard its progress towards heaven. 
 
 But while we steadily keep in view this great 
 foundation — this mighty refuge of the soul in 
 its utmost need — we must also remember that 
 means are provided which it is our part to em- 
 ploy with all diligence ; that a daily warfare 
 is before us, in which we are ourselves called 
 upon to fight the good fight of faith. To this 
 contest, indeed, we are not sent in our own 
 strength ; but still the warfare is real, and we 
 
200 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 are required to -engage in it with the same firm- 
 ness and perseverance as if the conflict were 
 entirely our own. So it was, in various in- 
 stances, in the experience of God's ancient 
 people, whose history is, in many respects, a 
 figure of the Christian hfe and Christian war- 
 fare. When Amalek came down to oppose 
 the passage of Israel in their progress towards 
 the promised land, Joshua was commanded to 
 take chosen men and go and fight with Ama- 
 lek. Easy would it have been for him who 
 had divided the sea before them, and supplied 
 them with water out of the rock, now to have 
 dispersed Amalek with a word, while they 
 should only have been required, as on another 
 memorable occasion, to stand still and see the 
 salvation of God. But such was not his pleas- 
 ure. A battle was to be fought with this war- 
 like people ; and, like any other battle, the con- 
 flict raged, with various and fluctuatiug suc- 
 cess, in the valley of Rephidim. While the 
 contest was going on, they had still before 
 them the signal of the Divine presence in the 
 remarkable circumstance that, when Moses 
 lifted up his hands, Israel prevailed, and when 
 he let them down, Amalek prevailed. The 
 
THE ARMOUR. 201 
 
 means are added by which the hands of Mo- 
 ses were supported when they became heavy 5 
 and, in the end, Amalek was dispersed before 
 the host of Joshua ; but, with the undoubted 
 symbol of the Divine presence constantly in 
 their view, this result did not take place till 
 the battle had raged to the going down of the 
 sun. 
 
 And so it must be in the experience of ev- 
 ery individual Christian. When he looks to 
 the cross of the Redeemer, he beholds at once 
 the source and the symbol of a power which 
 is able to make him more than conqueror over 
 all his spiritual enemies. But it is when he 
 goes out to the battle, arrayed in all the ar- 
 mour of God, and puts forth his utmost strength 
 to use the armour thus provided — it is then 
 that he is entitled to look for a communication 
 of this power, and a supply for every want, 
 and a strength amid all his weakness, to carry 
 him on through every danger, till, having been 
 thus enabled to be faithful unto death, he shall 
 receive the crown of life. 
 
 In the warfare thus figuratively represented 
 to us, ** we wrestle not," says the apostle, 
 ** against flesh and blood :" that is, it is not a 
 
202 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 bodily contest — it is a warfare within. Ac- 
 cordingly, he adds, in another place, " The 
 weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but 
 mighty through God, to the pulling down of 
 strongholds, casting down imaginations, and 
 every high thing that exalteth itself against 
 the knowledge of God, and bringing into cap- 
 tivity every thought to the obedience of Christ." 
 In this warfare, therefore, the enemies with 
 whom we have to contend are such as exert 
 their influence upon the mind ; the acts of war- 
 fare by which the contest with them is to be 
 conducted, consists of acts of the mind ; and 
 the armour which we are exhorted to take, to 
 enable us to engage in this warfare with suc- 
 cess, consists of truths, motives, moral causes, 
 and spiritual influences, which are calculated 
 to act upon the mind, and to produce in it a 
 certain state of moral feeling which constitutes 
 the healthy condition of the soul. That these 
 truths and motives may produce their proper 
 influence upon the mind, a power from on high 
 is indeed required, without which we can do 
 nothing. But this in no degree diminishes the 
 oblgation upon us to perform the part, and to 
 perform it with diligence, which really belongs 
 
THE ARMOUR. 203 
 
 to US as moral and responsible beings. This 
 brings us to processes of the naind itself, which 
 every nnan is conscious that he has the power 
 to perform. However much the actual per- 
 formance of them may have become distaste- 
 ful from a depraved condition of the heart, or 
 impaired by long habits of neglect of that im- 
 portant discipline of the mind on which they 
 depend, they are not less the absolute duty of 
 every rational man, and not less essential to a 
 . sound condition of the moral being. Of the 
 nature of the armour to be thus employed we 
 have a striking exposition in the passage before 
 us ; when, after enumerating the spiritual en- 
 emies to whose attacks we are exposed, the 
 apostle goes on to exhort every man who feels 
 the danger of his position, and estimates aright 
 the solemn importance of the warfare to which 
 he is called, " Stand therefore, having your 
 loins girt about with truth, having on the breast- 
 plate of righteousness, and your feet shod with 
 the preparation of the Gospel of peace. Above 
 all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall 
 be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wick- 
 ed ; and take the helmet of salvation, and the 
 Eword of the Spirit, which is the word of God ; 
 
204 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 praying always with all prayer and supplica- 
 tion in the Spirit, and watching thereunto with 
 all perseverance." 
 
 In attempting an illustration ol this impor- 
 tant subject, it does not appear to be necessa- 
 ry that we should pursue the metaphor minute- 
 ly through the various points which are here 
 referred to under it : that is to say, it is not ne- 
 cessary to inquire why truth is given as the 
 peculiar armour of the loins, righteousness as 
 the breastplate, or for the defence of the feet 
 the preparation of the Gospel of peace. No- 
 thing, it appears, would be gained by tracing 
 in this manner the figurative language of the 
 apostle. Every useful purpose will probably 
 be answered by viewing the passage in a more 
 general way — as simply an exposition of the 
 various parts of that armour which we are ex- 
 horted to put on, that we may stand in the evil 
 day ; or, in other words, that we may resist 
 the influence of the various spiritual enemies 
 to whom we are exposed on our passage 
 through this short and solemn scene of moral 
 discipline. 
 
 I. The first part of this armour is Truth — 
 
THE ARMOUR. 206 
 
 "having your loins girt about with truth.** 
 At the very first step of the inquiry, we are 
 here directed to a process of the mind of which 
 every man has the conviction that he has the 
 power to perform it. In the bodily warfare, 
 from which the figure is taken, the man has 
 the armour provided, but his part is to put it 
 on in the manner in which it is meant to be 
 worn ; and without this, the possession of it 
 will be of no avail whatever for his defence in 
 the battle. So in the spiritual warfare, an im- 
 portant part of the armour which is presented 
 to him is truth ; but his duty, as a being en- 
 dowed with powers of attention, memory, and 
 reflection, is to receive the truth so provided 
 into his mind, and to make it the subject of 
 earnest and habitual attention and reflection, 
 so that it may be placed in circumstances for 
 producing its proper influence upon the moral 
 emotions of his heart, and his whole charac- 
 ter and conduct in life. True indeed it is, that 
 for this great purpose a power is required 
 which is not in man. But we do violence to 
 this high principle when we state it to the ex- 
 clusion of that part which is really our own, 
 and in regard to which the solemn responsi- 
 S 
 
206 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 bility is thrown upon ourselves. A man who 
 goes to battle encased in armour may still re- 
 ceive an injury, but he who enters the conflict 
 entirely unaniied has no cause to be astonish- 
 ed if it is so with him, and must feel that the 
 blame of his foolhardiness is entirely his own. 
 Now the man who goes to battle without his 
 armour is a figurative representation of the 
 vacant, listless, and frivolous mind. It is ex- 
 posed to the powder of every wild delusion that 
 flutters by. The malignant spirits that seek it 
 for a prey find nothing to oppose them ; for 
 the entrance is open to every intruder, and all, 
 it may be, is empty within. The deadening 
 and darkening influence of earthly things take 
 their turn of the occupancy, one succeeding 
 another, as accidental circumstances may de- 
 termine, but each, in his turn, maintaining that 
 possession of the soul which shuts out from 
 its view the overwhelming interest of the 
 things which are eternal. And in the absence 
 of these, the corrupt aflfections and vain ima- 
 ginations of the carnal heart itself are ever 
 ready to spring up at a call, deadening more 
 and more the moral perceptions of the mind, 
 and fixing it more and more deeply as the will- 
 ing slave o.f sin. 
 
THE ARMOUR. 207 
 
 The great principle in the science of mind 
 which is brought before us in connexion with 
 this subject is, that the mind must be occupied ; 
 and that, if it is not occupied by that which is 
 worthy of its high destiny, and tends to its 
 moral culture, it will be speedily taken posses- 
 sion of by that which tends to its moral degra- 
 dation and ruin. The first of the antidotes 
 provided, or, in the figurative language of the 
 apostle, the first part of the armour presented 
 to us for this great purpose, is Truth ; and to 
 have the loins girt about with truth seems to 
 imply, cultivating the habit of having the mind 
 so habitually occupied with the great truths 
 which most concern its highest interest, that 
 these may prevent the inroads of intruders 
 which tend to its moral injury. For as the 
 armour, in the figure before us, is of no use if 
 it be merely in possession, without being girt 
 about the loins in the manner in which it is in- 
 tended to be worn, so the knowledge of those 
 great truths, and even the absolute belief of 
 them, are of no value as means of moral de- 
 fence to the soul, unless they are made the sub- 
 ject of habitual and earnest attention, and ha- 
 bitual and serious reflection, in some degree 
 
208 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 adequate to their supreme and internal impor- 
 tance. This is to have the loins girt about 
 with Truth, 
 
 What, then, are the truths which are thus 
 to be used as armour of the soul against the 
 enemies of its safety and its peace ? They con- 
 sist of all those great and solemn truths which 
 concern a man as a rational and immortal be- 
 ing, and his relation to that incomprehensible 
 One who is now his witness and will soon be 
 his judge. In the present short and transitory 
 state of being he is placed for a period of mor- 
 al discipline. He has various duties which he 
 is called upon to perform, and many responsi- 
 bilities and means of usefulness which he is re- 
 quired to improve to the glory of God and the 
 good of man ; and he has committed to his 
 care an immortal spirit, to be disciplined for 
 the solemn realities of a life which is to come. 
 Through every step of this mortal pilgrimage 
 he is exposed to an eye that never sleeps — the 
 eye of Him who is not only the witness of his 
 conduct in every relation of life, but before 
 whom even his most secret desires and ima- 
 ginations are open, and are weighed in the bal- 
 ance of the sanctuary. Each day, as it hur- 
 
r 
 
 THE ARMOUR. 209 
 
 ries unheeded over him, is leading him with 
 fearful rapidity to the grave ; and after the 
 short night of the grave is that dread morning 
 when the voice of the Eternal shall wake the 
 dead — and then there is the awful solemnity 
 of the judgment of Him who cannot err — and 
 then there is Eternity. Were the solemn truth 
 habitually present to the mind, that each day, 
 as it passes over us, affects our preparation for 
 these dread ^-ealities — ^that each day, each hour, 
 each act of life, each train of thought that is 
 encouraged in the mind, has its part in advan- 
 cing or retarding us in this mighty work, 
 and has thus a bearing on our prospects for 
 eternity, oh ! how could the impression fail to 
 act as armour of the soul, and, under an influ- 
 ence from on high, tend to guard it against 
 principalities, against powers, against the ru- 
 lers of the darkness of this world, and spiritu- 
 al wickedness in high places : such is the migh- 
 ty import of having the loins girt about with 
 Truth. 
 
 II. When, under the influence of a deep and 
 serious contemplation of such truths as these, a 
 man's attention has been awakened to the sol- 
 S2 
 
210 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 emn import of the eternity which is before him, 
 the next and most natural step in the process- 
 es of his mind is to inquire into his own moral 
 condition in the sight of Him who looketh into 
 his heart. Is he prepared to meet that almigh- 
 ty One, who is soon to be disclosed in all the 
 dread attributes of his character as a Judge 
 of unerring purity and justice ? Is he conscious 
 of a moral condition w hich affords him evidence 
 of preparation for rendering to this incompre- 
 hensible One a strict account, or has he the con- 
 viction that a future life in the presence of God 
 would really be a source of enjoyment to him ? 
 Of that life we can form no other conception 
 than that its great peculiarity consists of per- 
 fection for holiness — has he, then, the conscious- 
 ness that progress in holiness is a leading ob- 
 ject with him here ? if not, how can the perfec- 
 tion of it be a source of blessedness ? What 
 is the prevailing character of his thoughts, de- 
 sires, and pursuits — are they such as class him 
 wth " those who mind earthly things" — who 
 nxe carnally minded, which is said to be 
 •' death," or with those who are seeking as their 
 chief good a portion which the world has not 
 to give — who are *' spiritually minded," which 
 is " life and peace ?" 
 
THE ARMOUR. 211 
 
 When a man has put to himself such ques- 
 tions as these with a seriousness adapted to 
 their solemn import, he cannot fail to perceive 
 his absolute need of a righteousness which is 
 not in himself, before he can be considered as 
 taking one step in the divine life — before he 
 can be prepared to make one effort in the 
 Christian warfare. All his knowledge of truth, 
 and all the attention he can direct to it, he feels 
 to be totally inefficient in themselves for this 
 mighty work. In the sight of a God of un- 
 spotted holiness and boundless perfections, he 
 feels a burden of sin upon his conscience for 
 which he can offer no satisfaction. Years and 
 years that have passed over while he lived in 
 a state of forgetfulness of God, seem now to 
 rise up in judgment against him ; and he feels 
 also that he carries about with him a corrupt 
 nature, which tends ever to lead him astray 
 from God, and baffles all his feeble and ineffi- 
 cient efforts towards returning to him as the 
 portion of his soul. To take a single step in 
 the Christian life, or to engage at all in the 
 Christian warfare, he perceives to be totally in 
 vain, while such a load of actual guilt is unre- 
 moved, and while so much inherent corruption 
 
212 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 is unsubdued ; and for removing the one and 
 subduing the other, he feels that he has in him- 
 self no power. Yet the more he fixes his se- 
 rious attention on the great inquiry, he feels 
 more and more that without this he is lost; 
 that he cannot draw near to God except in trem- 
 bling ; that he cannot encounter his spiritual 
 enemies except to be destroyed ; that he can- 
 not take one step in the path which leads to 
 heaven without righteousness — without the 
 blotting out of those sins which threaten to 
 overwhelm his soul^ and without the implant- 
 ing in his heart of a principle of holiness. He 
 perceives that both these are alike indispensa- 
 ble for his safety ; but how is he to provide 
 them. He is not called upon to provide them, 
 but to put them on. He perceives them al- 
 ready provided in that marvellous dispensation 
 of grace and of peace which now beams upon 
 him in all its wondrous adaptation to the wants 
 of his soul, thus bringing with it its own evi- 
 dence that it comes from God ; and he feels 
 that he is urged to no vain or unattainable act, 
 but to one for which all is offered, *^ without 
 money and without price,^ when, as a first 
 great step in the Christian warfare, the apostle 
 
THE ARMOUR. 213 
 
 calls upon him to " put on the breastplate of 
 righteousness." 
 
 When, under the teaching of the Spirit of 
 all truth, a man has thus learned to see his 
 moral necessities, and to estimate aright the 
 provision that has been made for them — when 
 he has come as a helpless and burdened sin- 
 ner to seek an interest in this provision, he has 
 achieved that mighty step in his moral history 
 which is implied in putting on the breastplate 
 of righteousness. It consists, as we have seen, 
 of two parts, in one respect distinct from each 
 other, but inseparably connected in the great 
 scheme of the Gospel of peace. It consists of 
 the righteousness of another laid hold of and 
 embraced as the ground of his acceptance, and 
 a principle of righteousness implanted in his 
 heart by the power of the Holy Spirit, and by 
 daily communications from that Spirit, cher- 
 ished and growing up in his progressive sanc- 
 tification. Thus provided, he is ready to be- 
 gin the spiritual life ; thus armed, he is ready 
 to enter upon the spiritual contest. He feels 
 that he is strong, but his strength is not in him- 
 self ; and he looks forward to the course and 
 the warfare that is before him in the humble 
 
214 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 confidence that in this strength he "shall be 
 able to withstand in the evil day, and having 
 done all, to stand." 
 
 III. And whence is this confidence derived^ 
 and hovsr is it maintained in the mind in such 
 a manner as to prove a part of the armour of 
 the soul ? It is derived from the view which 
 a man is now enabled to take of the stability 
 of the Gospel. " Having your feet shod with 
 the preparation," or, rather, with the Ji)vn foun- 
 dation " of the Gospel of peace.'* In the whole 
 history of redemption, he sees the character of 
 God displayed in a manner which is calculated 
 to put to silence every unbelieving doubt. He 
 sees the wondrous plan originating entirely in 
 the free love and compassion of God — devised 
 by him from no motive but this compassion — 
 executed in a manner more marvellous than it 
 ever could have entered into the mind of man 
 to conceive — and all the benefits thus provided, 
 offered, without money and without price, to 
 every one w^ho will come. He arrives at the 
 undoubted conclusion that he who devised and 
 executed such a scheme of mercy cannot pos* 
 sibly be unwilling to bestow it ; that the faith- 
 
THE ARMOUR. 215 
 
 fulness of his character is pledged for the ful- 
 filment of all that he has promised in his Son; 
 that his positive engagement to the Redeemer 
 is pledged to bestow upon him of the travail 
 of his soul until he is satisfied ; and that he 
 who spared not his own Son, but gave him up 
 to the death for us, will with him also freely 
 give us all things. This is to have, as an im- 
 portant part of the armour of his soul, " the 
 firm foundation of the Gospel of peace." 
 
 IV. When, under the impression of such 
 truths, and such views of the Divine character 
 and procedure as have thus been briefly refer- 
 red to, a man has been led to seek his safety 
 and his strength in the great provisions of the 
 Gospel, he enters upon a course of life in which 
 he feels continually his own helplessness, and 
 lis constant need of cultivating intercourse 
 nth God, and of living under the power of 
 ||hings not seen. This intercourse and these 
 impressions are maintained by Faith; hence 
 |adds the apostle, " Above all, taking the shield 
 [of Faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench 
 all the fiery darts of the wicked." 
 
 " Faith," says the apostle in another place, 
 
216 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 "is the substance," or actual existence "of 
 things hoped for, and the evidence," or bring- 
 ing into light " of things not seen." He thus 
 briefly but strikingly directs our attention to 
 that twofold operation of faith, of which each 
 exerts its proper and most important influence 
 on the Christian character and progress. Feel- 
 ing his lost and helpless condition in himself, 
 and receiving in confidence the promises of the 
 Gospel, the man is led by faith, in the first step 
 of his Christian course, to throw himself upon 
 the faithfulness of God for pardon and justifi- 
 cation ; and feeling continually his need of a 
 power that is not in himself, his faith also leads 
 him to rely upon the same faithfulness for all 
 those supplies which he requires for his prog- 
 ress in the Divine life. Thus he both lives 
 and walks by faith. That exercise of faith, 
 again, which is the bringing into light of things 
 not seen, tends to place before him, with all 
 the power of present existence, those solemn 
 realities which it is the peculiar province of 
 such faith to bring down upon the mind. It 
 places him, as it were, in the immediate pres- 
 ence of God, and causes him to feel that each 
 *act of life, each motive of conduct, each train 
 
THE ARMOUR. 217 
 
 of thought that is encouraged in the mind, is 
 open to Divine inspection, and has a bearing 
 upon his prospects i'or eternity. In the farther 
 exercise of this faith, he realizes the solemn 
 hour when God shall be revealed in all the 
 dread realities of his character as an inflexible 
 judge, and in the anticipation of his own ap- 
 pearance to give his account, asks himself se- 
 riously what he shall answer. What account 
 has he to give of how he has discharged the 
 various duties of life — how he has improved 
 the various talents which God has committed 
 to his trust — how he has watched over the dis- 
 cipline of the soul in its solemn preparation for 
 an eternal being ? 
 
 Such a realizing view of things not seen 
 cannot fail to operate as a great moral cause 
 on the mind in which it is habitually cherished 
 as an important part of its spiritual armour. 
 But were the power of faith to stop here, it 
 would only leave the feeble being impressed 
 with a new sense of the dangers with which 
 he is encompassed, and of his own helplessness 
 for meeting them. But it does not leave him 
 thus ; amid all his sense of danger, and all his 
 feeling of weakness, it directs him to a strength 
 T 
 
218 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 that is not in himself — a power which is prom- 
 ised to every one that asks it, and which is 
 able to make him more than conqueror over 
 all the enemies of his salvation. By faith re- 
 lying habitually upon this provision, he expe- 
 riences that it is a shield by which he is able 
 to quench the fiery darts of the wicked. The 
 more he feels his own weakness, the more does 
 he perceive that his only safely consists in 
 walking humbly and closely with God ; and 
 thus does he experience the import of the apos- 
 tle's declaration, " When I am weak, then am I 
 strong." 
 
 V. The next part of the armour which the 
 Christian warrior is exhorted to put on is " the 
 helmet of salvation." This the apostle express- 
 es more fully in another place by exhorting to 
 "take as an helmet the hope of salvation, 
 Viewed in this sense, the subject leads us to 
 that state of mind which constitutes Hope, and 
 to the effect of this mental condition as an en- 
 couragement in the spiritual warfare. That 
 operation of mind which constitutes hope may 
 be briefly analyzed in the following manner : 
 There is first the desire of attaining some ob- 
 
 » 
 
THE ARMOUR. 219 
 
 ject, founded upon the perception of qualities 
 in it which render it worthy of being sought 
 after. There is then the inquiry whether it is 
 within reach of our attainment. If this ap- 
 pears to be the case, there arises in the mind 
 a state of desire, combined with a sense of 
 pleasure in the anticipation of attainment. This 
 is Hope ; and it proves a great source of en- 
 couragement to our efforts for attaining the ob- 
 ject desired, and gives new vigour to every 
 exertion ; while the opposite condition, consist- 
 ing of desire without the prospect of attain- 
 ment, proves a source of distress, and deadens 
 every effort for attaining it. 
 
 In the spiritual life, the first step which de- 
 termines a man's moral condition is when his 
 mind is awakened to a due sense of the value 
 of the soul, and the supreme importance of 
 seeking for it salvation and eternal life. These 
 then become the great and leading objects of 
 his desire, and there arises the earnest inquiry 
 how they are to be attained. While this great 
 question remains unanswered, all is darkness 
 and discouragement within — all effort seems 
 vain ; and in proportion to the. feeling of the 
 supreme and eternal value of the objects de^ 
 
220 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 sired is the sense of anxiety and discourage- 
 ment; but when the mighty question is met by 
 the wondrous provisions of the Gospel of peace 
 ■ — when this is seen in all its harmony and all 
 its freeness, a new light breaks in upon the 
 soul ; depression and anxiety give way to hope 
 — a hope which gives new activity and vigour 
 to every exertion, and enlargement of heart to 
 run in the way of the Divine commandments. 
 It is clear how this state of mind must operate 
 on the whole moral feelings, giving life and ac- 
 tivity in every duty, and watchfulness against 
 every source of declension ; how a lively sense 
 of the supreme importance of the object sought 
 after, and the lively hope of being able to at- 
 tain it, will tend to carry a man through much 
 that might otherwise be felt to be laborious 
 service ; and how it must prove an important 
 part of the armour of the soul, when the man 
 thus puts on as a helmet the hope of salvation. 
 Now it is to be particulary remarked that 
 we are exhorted to cultivate the state of mind 
 which is meant by hope ; and here we have to 
 attend to a principle in our nature which pre- 
 sents a subject of much interest, for hope is 
 one of those emotions of the mind over which 
 
THE ARMOUR. 221 
 
 we have no direct power. We cannot call it 
 forth at our bidding ; yet, by the constitution 
 of the mind, it is the result of a process of the 
 understanding which it is entirely in our power 
 to exercise if we will ; for an intense contem- 
 plation of the value of the object sought after 
 tends, by the constitution of the mind, to give 
 rise to desire, and an intense contemplation of 
 the means by which it may be attained is cal- 
 culated to generate hope. Thus we are brought 
 back to a process of mind which consists 
 simply of attention and reflection, adapted to 
 the importance of the subject. In this man- 
 ner, when the powers of attention and reflec- 
 tion are fixed with adequate interest on the 
 infinite value of the soul, and the supreme im- 
 portance of its salvation, this is calculated to 
 produce desire ; and when the same powers 
 are directed to the means provided in the Gos- 
 pel for the attainment of this blessing, this, ac- 
 cording to the constitution of the mind, is cal- 
 culated to give rise to hope, even a " hope that 
 maketh not ashamed." 
 
 VI. Having thus referred to that discipline 
 of the mind, in regard to the solemn realities 
 T 2 
 
222 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 of things not seen, which ought to be carefully 
 cultivated by every one who feels the deep in- 
 terest of the spiritual warfare, the apostle con- 
 cludes his exhortation by directing the atten- 
 tion to the means which are calculated to keep 
 alive upon the mind due impressions of divine 
 things. These are three — the word of God, 
 prayer, and watchfulness. " Take the sword 
 of the Spirit, which is the word of God." 
 
 It may be safely stated as a principle in hu- 
 man nature, that one of the great sources of 
 the facility with which men yield to tempta- 
 tion is the want of solemn and serious thought; 
 and, under the power of the Divine Spirit, an 
 important mean of arming the mind consists in 
 having it occupied with impressions which are 
 hostile to the approach of sin. Hence the su- 
 preme importance of cultivating the habit of 
 having the mind habitually provided with such 
 subjects of contemplation as tend to promote 
 this great purpose. With this view, nothing 
 is so effectual, and, at the same time, so access- 
 ible, as the word of God. Its precepts are 
 available for every step of life— its admoni- 
 tions for every duty — its warnings against 
 every temptation. *^ Thy word have I hid in 
 
THE ARMOUR. 223 
 
 my heart," says the Psalmist, " that I might 
 not sin against thee." And in that highest of 
 all examples, furnished by our Lord himself 
 in his human nature, of the means by which 
 temptation ought to be combated, his prompt 
 and simple answer to the tempter in all cases 
 was, " It is written." As it is thus a chief 
 safeguard against temptation, it is also a ref- 
 uge to the soul in every situation in which it 
 can be placed: "thy statutes have been my 
 song in the house of my pilgrimage ; " " thy 
 word is very pure, therefore thy servant loveth 
 it." 
 
 And where but in the records of eternal 
 truth can we find that which meets the feel- 
 ings, the wants, and the capacities of the hu- 
 man mind, under every diversity of external 
 ^ condition, and every variety of mental culture ? 
 This points to an adaptation worthy of Him 
 who framed the wondrous fabric, and who 
 alone was capable of providing that which at 
 once was qualified to act as moral causes on 
 its most hidden movements, and to yield that 
 spiritual food for the soul by which it may be 
 nourished unto everlasting life. 
 
 But at present we chiefly contemplate the 
 
224 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 word of God as the sword of the Spirit — as 
 the offensive armour of the soul in its contests 
 with the enemies of its salvation. The sub- 
 ject is too extensive to be more than alluded 
 to in the most brief and cursory manner. 
 What temptation can assail us either from 
 without or from within, which the soul that is 
 provided with this armour, and trained to its 
 use, may not promptly meet with the denun- 
 ciation, " Thus it is written.^ How can a 
 man fail to experience upon his mind a solemn 
 impression of the Divine character, when he 
 addresses the Eternal One in terms which his 
 own word has provided, " O Lord, thou hast 
 searched me and known me ; thou understand- 
 est my thought afar off. Whither shall I go 
 from thy Spirit, whither shall I flee from thy 
 presence. If I ascend up into heaven, thou 
 art there : if I make my bed in hell, behold, 
 thou art there : if I say, surely the darkness 
 shall cover me, even the night shall be light 
 about me. Yea, the darkness hideth not from 
 thee." Does temptation come from without, 
 " How shall I do this great wickedness, and 
 sin against God.*' Is there a motion of sin 
 within, "If I regard iniquity in my heart, the 
 
THE ARMOUR. 225 
 
 Lord will not hear me." Thus the word of 
 God may be employed as the sword of the 
 Spirit, as keeping at a distance the approaches 
 of evil ; and its operation is not less important 
 within, upon the heart in which it has fixed its 
 abode. Its first operation there is represented 
 as that of a two-edged sword, piercing to the 
 dividing asunder of the soul and spirit, and 
 proving a discerner of the thoughts and intents 
 of the heart ; discovering to a man what is his 
 real condition in the eye of Him w^hom exter- 
 nal appearances cannot deceive. This painful 
 but salutary discipline being accomplished, the 
 farther operation of this great moral agent is 
 summed up by the inspired writer in a manner 
 the most striking and comprehensive : " The 
 law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul ; 
 the testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise 
 the simple. The statutes of the Lord are right, 
 rejoicing the heart ; the commandment of the 
 Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes. More- 
 over, by them is thy servant warned, and in 
 keeping of them there is great reward." 
 
 Thus the word of God presents an adapta- 
 tion to all the necessities of the soul, and proves 
 an infallible guide in every step and every 
 
226 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 emergency of life. Its precepts avail for every 
 line of duty, its warnings tend to repel every 
 kind of temptation. Its promises meet every 
 want and every weakness ; and the light and 
 the truth, which beam from every part of it, 
 are calculated to carry the finite and feeble 
 being beyond the sphere of objects of sense, 
 and to conduct him, in high and holy commu- 
 nion, even to the throne of Him who is eternal. 
 But the sword of the Spirit, thus provided, 
 must be not only worn, but used. Other ar- 
 mour may avail for defence, by being simply 
 put on ; but a sword is useless without an arm 
 that has power to wield it. So the word of 
 God must not only be known and understood, 
 but it must be made the subject of habitual, 
 frequent, and serious reflection ; it must be put 
 forth, as it were, and applied to every emer- 
 gency of life, and every process of discipline 
 of the heart. It must be so employed with 
 earnest and habitual aspiration after a power 
 from the Spirit of all grace, through whose 
 aid alone it can be made effectual for these 
 mighty purposes. Thus shall it indeed prove 
 the sword of that Spirit — the defence of the 
 soul against all its spiritual enemies, and the 
 daily mean of its growing sanctification. 
 
THE ARMOUR. 227 
 
 VII. Accordingly, the apostle continues his 
 exposition of the Christian armour by enfor- 
 cing the importance of earnest, habitual, per- 
 severing prayer — " praying always with all 
 prayer and supplication in the Spirit." That 
 incomprehensible One who searcheth the heart, 
 requires not, indeed, to be informed either of 
 our wants or our desires. The most hidden 
 movements of the soul are open to his view, 
 and our spiritual necessities are better known 
 to him than they are to ourselves. But he 
 looks for a sense of these wants and an expres- 
 sion of these necessities as means of commu- 
 nication with himself, and as an essential part 
 of that intercourse to which he condescends 
 to invite the weary and burdened spirit. And 
 how must it solemnize this intercourse when 
 we reflect that all these wants are known 
 to him before they are uttered ; that he has 
 marked every step in our history, has witness- 
 ed each train of thought and emotion of the 
 mind by which that mind has gone astray 
 from himself, and yet, with a father's tender- 
 ness, invites our return, with the assurance, 
 not only of forgiveness, but of the bestowment 
 of moral health to the soul: " Return, ye back- 
 
228 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 sliding children, and I will heal your back- 
 slidings." How can the cultivation of such 
 intercourse fail to produce upon the mind an 
 awe of the Divine presence and the Divine 
 character, and a constantly renewed sense of 
 our own weakness, and helplessness, and sin. 
 The influence is familiar to every one which 
 is produced by the presence and intimate con- 
 verse of men of exalted virtue, whom, at the 
 same time, we reverence and love ; and such, 
 but in a much higher degree, must be the in- 
 fluence produced upon the soul by habitual in- 
 tercourse with God. Independently, indeed, 
 of any actual expression of want or any actual 
 solicitation of spiritual blessings, there must be, 
 in this very converse itself, a moral influence 
 of the most exalted nature. It must lead to a 
 sense to which a man is otherwise a stran- 
 ger, of the Divine presence and Divine perfec- 
 tions, and to a solemn awe under the impres- 
 sion that God understandeth even our thoughts 
 afar off*. It must lead to some feeling of his 
 character in holiness, and justice, and truth ; 
 and this must naturally give rise to a sense of 
 our own sinfulness in his sight. When we 
 come before him confessing our sins and ex- 
 
THE ARMOUR. 229 
 
 pressing our spiritual wants, unless these are 
 mere words of the most empty formahty, we 
 must in some degree look within, and make 
 mention before him of those defects of our 
 character, and those destructive habits of the 
 mind, which we feel have retarded our prog- 
 ress in the Divine life, or kept us at a dis- 
 tance from God. And how can these impres- 
 siojis be more fixed and deepened than by con?- 
 fessing them before him to whom they have 
 been well known, when we thought little of 
 their destructive influence, but were indulging 
 them without fear ? It is when a man thus 
 draws near to God, with some feeling of the 
 words which he addresses to the Searcher of 
 hearts, it is then that he cannot fail to make 
 discoveries of his own character and his own 
 moral condition, to which, under other circum- 
 stances, he had paid little attention. Does he 
 say to God, in words which he himself has 
 provided, " Search me, O God, and know my 
 heart ; try me, and know my thoughts, and 
 see if there be any wicked way in me V* Can 
 he do so without endeavouring himself to look 
 into that heart, and observing what is the ha- 
 bitual current of these thoughts, and thus deri- 
 U 
 
230 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 ving some impression of what he really is in 
 the sight of him to whom the whole is open ? 
 When the soul thus comes to God with a feel- 
 ing of its utter helplessness and sin — when it 
 prostrates itself before that incomprehensible 
 One with whom it is thus brought into imme- 
 diate converse, it is then in the condition of 
 which he has given the encouragement to hope 
 that it is a frame of mind which he will not de- 
 spise. He puts away from him the proud 
 Pharisee and the cold formalist with equal 
 displeasure, but to the weary and heavy laden 
 spirit he has promised rest. 
 
 The solemn periods during which a man re- 
 tires from the intrusion of external things, and 
 thus places himself alone with God, must there- 
 fore be considered as a special and most im- 
 portant part of that discipline of the soul from 
 which it is to derive strength for its combat 
 "with principalities and powers, with the rulers 
 of the darkness of this world, and spiritual 
 wickedness in high places." Such seasons 
 will be sought for by every one who feels at 
 all his moral necessities, and they will be 
 sought for, not as duties to be performed, but 
 as privileges to be desired and cherished — as 
 
THE ARMOUR. 231 
 
 a great mean of spiritual life^^ — a chief source 
 of the growth, the defence, the nourishment of 
 the soul. 
 
 But, independently of those more special and 
 solemn seasons in which a man of prayer re- 
 tires from external things, and seeks to find 
 himself in the more immediate presence of 
 God — where there is the habitual sense of the 
 Divine presence, there will be the tendency to 
 raise the thoughts to him, even amid the or- 
 dinary engagements with objects of sense. 
 Amid the cares, the anxieties, the distractions 
 of life, indeed, this must pften be felt to be, as 
 it were, a resting-place, a refuge to the soul. 
 And a consideration at once the most solemn 
 and encouraging it certainly is, that, amid any 
 circumstances as to external things, the aspi- 
 ration of the heart directed to God may have 
 all the power and all the efficacy of prayer. 
 It is an exercise adapted to every situation in 
 which the feeble being can be placed ; for» 
 whether distracted with anxieties respecting 
 earthly things, or awed under more solemn 
 apprehensions of things eternal ; whether view- 
 ing complicated duties in regard to which he 
 perceives his own weakness, or combating with 
 
232 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 spiritual enemies which are too strong for him, 
 the man feels that he is not alone who thus 
 seeks to " dwell in the house of the Lord all 
 the days of his life, to behold the beauty of the 
 Lord, and to inquire in his temple.'' 
 
 VIII. To prayer must be added Watchful-- 
 ness; and this commends itself to the convic- 
 tion of every one who considers what true 
 prayer really is. If there be the earnest and 
 sincere desire after particular spiritual bless- 
 ings, there will be, besides the act of prayer, 
 the habitual cherishing of desire after these 
 blessings ; and in the desire so cherished, there 
 may be, in fact, all the essence of prayer* 
 There will then be the watching for the an- 
 swer of prayer, as most naturally connected 
 with such cherished desire ; and from this 
 there will also result the diligent use of all the 
 means in our power which seem likely to pro- 
 mote the objects desired. And it may be safely 
 asserted, that prayer, without this course of 
 mental operations, is an empty form which can 
 never profit. Is the prayer, again, for deliver- 
 ance from the power of any enslaving sin, or 
 from the influence of any habit of the mind 
 
THE ARMOUR. 233 
 
 which is felt to be destructive of the health of 
 the soul — if the prayer has any character of 
 sincerity, it must be accompanied by a sense 
 of the eternal importance of the deliverance 
 which is sought for ; this will be followed by a 
 cherished desire for it, and this, if it have any 
 reality, will lead to a watchful effort against 
 those propensities and those habits of the mind 
 which are felt to be endangering the highest 
 interests of the moral being. Upon these men- 
 tal principles, watchfulness may be considered 
 as arising out of cherished desire ; and pray- 
 er followed by such desire, and by an habitual 
 sense of the value of the blessings which are 
 sought for, may be stated as constituting that 
 condition which the apostle means to designate 
 when he says, " praying always with all prayer 
 and supplication in the spirit, and watching 
 thereunto with all perseverance." 
 
 The particular blessings or particular deliv- 
 erances which are thus to be made the sub- 
 jects of prayer, followed by desire and watch- 
 fulness, must differ according to the experience 
 of different individuals, and therefore it is im- 
 possible to allude to them in a more particular 
 manner. But in regard to the great subject 
 U2 
 
234 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 of Christian watchfulness in general, there are 
 some leading considerations which are appli- 
 cable to all, and which will be carefully acted 
 upon by those who feel the eternal importance 
 of this great department of the Christian war- 
 fare. These may be briefly alluded to under 
 the following heads, referring to propensities 
 of character to be guarded against, and others 
 to be cultivated with persevering care. 
 
 (1.) Watch over Habits. These, I need not 
 remark, arise out of individual acts, when such 
 acts have been repeated to a certain extent* 
 Habits thus formed vary exceedingly in their 
 nature, and in the influence which they exert 
 over the moral condition ; but every one who 
 has paid any attention to this most solemn in- 
 quiry must admit that their influence is most 
 extensive. I allude not here to habits of in- 
 temperance, or of any other kind of vicious 
 indulgence : in regard to these there can be 
 no hesitation in pronouncing on their ruinous 
 power ; but to habits which, though not prop- 
 erly to be considered as belonging to this class, 
 fnay yet be exerting a destructive influence on 
 the proper discharge of the duties of life, and 
 on the culture of the soul for the life which, is 
 
THE ARMOUR. 235 
 
 to come. Thus there may be habits of indo- 
 lence, which interfere alike with active duties, 
 and with habits of reflection and devotion. 
 There may be habits of luxurious indulgence, 
 which, though far removed from intemperance, 
 yet indispose or incapacitate for calm and se- 
 rious thought. There are habits of irregular- 
 ity and mismanagement of time, which inter- 
 fere at once with duties and with leisure for 
 reflection ; and there are habits of bustling ac- 
 tivity and engrossment with the pursuits, or, 
 it may be, the frivolities of life, which enchain 
 the soul as the willing bondslave of the things 
 which perish. Habits the reverse of all these 
 will be carefully cherished by every one who 
 feels as he ought the supreme importance of 
 eternal things. Study, then, to cultivate habits 
 of activity and diligence, especially in the use 
 of those means which, under the Divine Spirit, 
 serve to the culture of the moral being — habits 
 of regularity in the study of the word of God 
 — of reflection and serious thought upon its 
 meaning and tendency — and regular habits of 
 devotion. Cultivate habits of regularity and 
 economy of time, and of improving fragments 
 of time which are so often allowed to run to 
 
236 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 waste — habits of such moderation in livinor as 
 
 o 
 
 shall strengthen the body without oppressing 
 it — habits of method — of doing things at their 
 proper times, and of having for each portion 
 of time its appropriate occupation. 
 
 (2.) Watch more especially and carefully 
 over the habits and processes of the mind. It 
 is in these that a man may read his moral con- 
 dition ; and, whatever be his character in the 
 estimation of men, it is in these that his position 
 may be said to consist as a moral being. And 
 as all mental habits grow out of individual 
 acts or processes of the mind, fostered and en- 
 couraged to a certain extent, we learn the in- 
 finite impprtance of watching over all such 
 mental processes, as we cannot tell what de- 
 gree of indulgence of them may engender a 
 habit which shall fix itself indelibly on the con- 
 stitution of the mind. In all such cases, each 
 separate act is gone into with less effort than 
 the one which preceded it, until, step by step, 
 the habit is formed which is perpetuated with- 
 out any effort at all. In this manner a man 
 may allow his mind to glide gradually, and 
 almost insensibly, into habits of listless inac- 
 tivity, in which it is engrossed with the trifles 
 
THE ARMOUR. 237 
 
 of the passing hour, or into habits of morbid 
 activity, in which the fancy frames for itself 
 visions and delusions as empty as dreams — it 
 may be with images of an impure and degra- 
 ding nature, which tend to vitiate every feeling 
 and principle of the soul. And even independ- 
 ently of any such actual depravity and cor- 
 ruption of the processes of the mind, the men- 
 tal habits may be such as fix it under the pow- 
 er of the things of time, to the total exclusion 
 of any correct impression of the overwhelm- 
 ing interest of the things which are eternal. 
 Among the characters of those of whom the 
 apostle says that they are the enemies of the 
 cross of Christ, is, that they " mind earthly 
 things." " To be carnally minded," says the 
 same apostle, " is death." 
 
 The means of correcting all such destruc- 
 tive habits of the mind are to be found in the 
 careful culture of habits which have an oppo- 
 site tendency. And as the bad habits grow 
 out of individual acts, so also will they fall be- 
 fore individual acts and processes of a proper 
 kind, as these shall gradually grow into habits 
 ,which are worthy of the high destinies of an 
 immortal being. The subject is too extensive 
 
238 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 to be discussed at length, but there are a few 
 leading points which it may be desirable to 
 keep in view, and which, under a dependance 
 on the Divine Spirit, will be carefully cultiva- 
 ted by every one who feels the deep impor- 
 tance of this department of Christian watch- 
 fulness. 
 
 (3.) Cultivate the habit of realizing the pres- 
 ence of God, and of committing the way to 
 him in every process of the mind and every 
 act of life. It is given as the peculiar charac- 
 teristic of the saints in ancient times, that 
 *' they endured as seeing him who is invisible.'' 
 And what would be the effect upon the whole 
 character, if the habitual language of the heart 
 in every decision of life were, " thou, God, 
 seest me ;" if its habitual tendency were to 
 look to him for counsel, for direction, for 
 strength ; if, in every situation of doubt, per- 
 plexity, or temptation, the man were promptly 
 to say to himself, God is my witness — what, 
 in the circumstances in which I am now pla- 
 ced, will be most pleasing to him? When 
 such has become the established habit of the 
 lyiind, this is to " walk w ith God." The man 
 who ha5 made the high attainment may look 
 
THE ARMOUR. 239 
 
 with humble confidence for a communication 
 of Divine aid proportioned to every want — 
 for direction in every step of life, and for grace 
 adapted to the higher concern — the discipHne 
 of the soul for a life which is to come. In 
 regard to the things of earth, he is raised above 
 the corroding anxieties of those who, while 
 they seek the world as their portion, are yet 
 passing through it without a guide. In all 
 that can happen to him amid the transient con- 
 cerns of this life, he traces the hand of One 
 who cannot err, and with the feelings of meek 
 and filial reverence, only says, *' My Father, 
 who art in heaven, thy w^ill be done." 
 
 (4.) As an important mean of cultivating 
 these mental habits, be diligent to have the 
 mind well stored with the word of God — to 
 make it the subject of habitual earnest reflec- 
 tion, and to bring its maxims to bear upon 
 every transaction of life. This subject has al- 
 ready ^been referred to. As a mean of Chris- 
 tian watchfulness, nothing can be more effi- 
 cient, and, at the same time, more accessible, 
 than a simple appeal to what is written. This 
 is calculated to afford occupation of the deep- 
 est interest to the most enlarfjjed and cultivated 
 
240 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 mind ; and, on the other hand, it is remarkable 
 to observe how the inspired writer even en- 
 joins, as an improving exercise in the Christian 
 life, the humblest process of which the mind 
 is capable — the simple repetition of the word 
 of God, " speaking to yourselves in psalms, and 
 hymns, and spiritual songs." It seems not un- 
 reasonable to believe that such an exercise 
 might be one of the intentions of the poetical 
 parts of Scripture. It is adapted to minds least 
 cultivated and least accustomed to reflection 
 or thought, and yet it is an occupation from 
 which they may derive spiritual improvement ; 
 ** the entrance of thy word giveth light ; it giv- 
 eth understanding to the simple." 
 
 (5.) Cultivate the habit of looking steadily 
 within — of inquiring what is your moral con- 
 dition in the sight of God — what are the pro- 
 pensities of character which seem most to re- 
 tard your spiritual progress, and what care you 
 are bestowing upon deliverance from their 
 power. In what degree are you using the ar- 
 mour of God against the enemies of the soul 
 — ^with what serious earnestness are you watch- 
 ing unto prayer? Study earnestly the com- 
 parative states of your moral condition — watch 
 
THE ARMOUR. 241 
 
 for progress of character. Are you becom- 
 ing more under the power of eternal things, 
 or more devoted to, and engrossed with, the 
 concerns of earth ? Is your mind becoming 
 more under the impression of the Divine pres- 
 ence, and more disposed to seek after inter- 
 course with God ; or does it more readily be- 
 take itself to earthly things, or to visions of its 
 own formation as empty as dreams ? When- 
 ever the great principle has been established 
 in the heart, it spreads like leaven — there must 
 be progress ; where there is no progress, there 
 is no life. Watch, therefore, earnestly for pi'og- 
 ress. At certain seasons of reflection, have 
 you perceived propensities of character which 
 you felt were endangering the highest interests 
 of the soul, and have you formed resolutions 
 against them — have you, it may be, prayed 
 against them ? and, at the next season of seri- 
 ous thought, have you been compelled to ac- 
 knowledge that you have made no progress in 
 the contest ? What is the cause ? Is it not 
 want of watchfulness ? Has not the convic- 
 tion been forced upon you that you have vol- 
 untarily given way to those propensities against 
 which you had formed some feeble resolutions, 
 X 
 
242 THE CONTEST AND 
 
 and against which you had also professed tot 
 pray ? But you feel that you had prayed wkh- 
 out watching. Such, be assured, will be the 
 discovery ; but do not despair. Return to the^ 
 spiritual contest— pray more earnestly ani 
 more perseveringly, and watch more assidu- 
 ously. Look more frequently and more search- 
 ingly within. Be earnest-^be diligent; the. 
 concern is mighty, the salvation of the soul; 
 the armour is infallible, the whole armour of 
 God. Use it with diligence, and the viotwjf i 
 is sure. 
 
 (6.) Cultivate earnestly, in the daily walk^i 
 of life, the character and conduct which ac- 
 cord with the high morality of the Gospel of, 
 Christ, and seek after a growing conformity^ 
 to his example. As one great mean of thisii 
 cultivate the habit of placing yourself in th©- 
 situation of others, and so, with tiender inter- 
 est, entering into their wants, th6ir cares, their : 
 feelings, and their sorrows. "Blessed," says 
 the inspired writer, "is he that considereth the 
 poor" — that enters into their circumstances 
 and wants with feeling, interest, and kind con- 
 sideration. This is the mental act; the necc»- 
 s^ry care will follow, of course. But it is not 
 
THE ARMOUR. 243 
 
 to the poor alone that this exercise applies. It 
 is required in every relation of life, and is the 
 source of all that is kind and friendly, consid- 
 erate and tender-hearted towards all men. 
 Cultivate diligently the habits of kindness, 
 meekness, forgiveness, self-denial, and peace- 
 making. Study the sublime morality of the 
 Gospel of Christ, and especially study his own 
 example. He was holy, harmless, undefiled, 
 and separate from sinners. He was meek and 
 lowly in heart — he went about doing good. 
 He sought not his own things, but the good of 
 others. He humbled himself, that he might 
 achieve the great work of redemption. Let 
 the same mind be in you. Let every selfish 
 principle be mortified ; let each day find you 
 embracing every opportunity of doing good, 
 both to the bodies and to the souls of men, and 
 eagerly seeking after such opportunities as that 
 loved and chosen path in which you delight to 
 follow the steps of the Redeemer. In all your 
 intercourse with men, cultivate earnestly that 
 charity which " suffereth long and is kind — 
 which envieth not — vaunteth not itself— is not 
 puffed up — doth not behave itself unseemly — . 
 seeketh not her own — is not easily provoked 
 
244 THE CONTEST AND THE ARMOUR. 
 
 — thinketh no evil — rejoieeth not in iniquity, 
 but rejoieeth in the truth — beareth all things — 
 believeth all things — hopeth all things — endu- 
 reth all things." Such was the man Christ 
 Jesus, and such it becomes his disciples to be. 
 The more earnestly they aspire after conform- 
 ity to his likeness, the more will they feel 
 their deficiency and weakness, and their daily 
 need of that Spirit of all grace whom he has 
 promised ; but the more also are they warrant- 
 ed to expect this aid, and the more may they 
 hope to experience in their spiritual history, 
 that, putting on the whole armour of God, 
 "they are able to withstand in the evil day, 
 and, having done all, to stand." 
 
THE 
 
 MESSIAH AS AN EXAMPLE. 
 
THE 
 
 MESSIAH AS AN EXAMPLE. 
 
 In contemplating that " mystery of godliness, 
 God manifest in the flesh," we have to keep in 
 mind that the Messiah, in assuming our nature, 
 had two distinct objects to accomplish, both 
 of which were essential to his great work as 
 Mediator. The one was to bear the weight 
 of Divine justice, in the character of an atoning 
 sacrifice for sin ; the other was to yield a per- 
 fect obedience to the Divine law, in the room 
 of those whom he came to save. This latter 
 part of his work as Mediator required that he 
 should assume our nature, bear all its infirmi- 
 ties, and be subjected to all its trials and tempt- 
 ations, and in that nature triumph over them 
 all. He thus also accomplished a double pur- 
 pose — he fulfilled this important part of his 
 own mediatorial work, and he left us an exam- 
 ple that we should follow his steps, both in 
 hi$ manner of meeting temptation, and in his 
 
248 THE MESSIAH 
 
 whole character and conduct in life. In study- 
 ing the character of the Messiah, therefore, as 
 an example, it becomes us to consider him as 
 he is presented to us in these two aspects, both 
 of supreme importance to us — as suffering 
 temptation without yielding to its power, and 
 as exhibiting, in all the relations of life, the 
 pure and perfect condition of the moral nature 
 of man. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 THE MESSIAH UNDER TEMPTATION. 
 Matthew, iv., 1-11. 
 
 That the Messiah, in his human nature, was 
 subjected to temptation, is one of those facts 
 in his marvellous history which we must re- 
 ceive simply as it is revealed to us, without at- 
 tempting to exercise our own speculations re- 
 specting either the means or the agent by which 
 it v^as effected. The mysterious and incom- 
 prehensible character of it, in these respects, 
 does not in any degree interfere with the im- 
 portant lessons which the subject is calculated 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 249 
 
 to convey, in two leading considerations — the 
 nature of these temptations, and the means by 
 which they were combated. 
 
 § I. THE FIRST TEMPTATION. 
 
 "And when the tempter came to him, he 
 said. If thou be the Son of God, command 
 that these stones be made bread. But he an^ 
 swered and said. It is written, man shall not 
 live by bread alone, but by every word that 
 proceedeth out of the mouth of God." 
 
 In entering upon the consideration of the 
 first temptation, we may derive some Hght by 
 referring to the connexion of the passage which 
 our Lord employed in his answer to the tempt- 
 er. In the eighth chapter of Deuteronomy, Mo- 
 ses thus addresses the Israelites, in the prospect 
 of taking possession of the promised land, and 
 in the review of all the way by which God 
 had led them in their wanderings through the 
 wilderness : " All the commandments which I 
 command thee this day shall ye observe to do, 
 that ye may live and multiply, and go in and 
 possess the land which the Lord sware unto 
 your fathers. And thou shalt remember all 
 the way by which the Lord thy God led thee 
 
250 THE MESSIAH 
 
 these forty years in the wilderness, to humble 
 thee, and to prove thee, to know what was m 
 thine heart, whether thou wouldest keep his 
 commandments or no. And he humbled thee, 
 and suffered thee to hunger, and fed thee with 
 manna which thou knewest not, neither did 
 thy fathers know ; that he might make thee 
 know, that man doth not live by bread only, 
 but by every word that proceedeth out of the 
 mouth of the Lord doth man live." 
 
 From a remote period, God had promised 
 rto their fathers that he would bring the Is- 
 raelites into the land of Canaan, and establish 
 them there as a great people. As an impor- 
 tant step towards the fulfilment of this promise, 
 he had delivered them out of Egypt by a se- 
 ries of miraculous dispensations, which marked, 
 in an indisputable manner, the immediate oper- 
 ation of his hand. In their progress through 
 the wilderness, he had kept them in circum- 
 stances which were a continual trial of their 
 faith in his promise, and their reliance on his 
 unceasing care. They were made to feel, 
 that, for the supply of their daily food, they 
 could not provide for themselves by any in- 
 dustry of their own, but were thrown contin- 
 
A3 AN EXAMPLE. 251 
 
 ually upon God for a supply of their wants ia 
 a miraculous manner. Thus they were hum- 
 bkd, being made to feel their weakness, and 
 their inability to do anything for themselves 
 in the very peculiar circumstances in which 
 they wore placed. The least reflection upon 
 these circumstances ought to have convinced 
 them that they were instruments in the hand of 
 God in carrying forward a scheme of provi-. 
 dence, and one in which his hand was display* 
 ed in a special and peculiar manner — a scheme 
 involving the fulfilment of the promise to A bra* 
 ham, that in his seed all the families of the? 
 earth should be blessed. 
 
 Their duty, under a dispensation so very pe* 
 culiar, was not to murmur at the circumstan- 
 ces in which God had placed them, but to sub- 
 mit themselves with humility, reverence, and 
 faith to all the way by which he was leading 
 them, considering their personal gratifications 
 as of secondary importance, when viewed in 
 connexion with the great purposes which he 
 was carrying on by means of them. They> 
 did not thus submit themselves to the appoints 
 ments of God ; they rebelled against the course 
 by which he was leading them, demanding per- 
 
252 THE MESSIAH 
 
 sonal gratifications which he had not thought 
 proper to allow them. They thus subjected 
 themselves to his displeasure, and to the sen- 
 tence which he sent forth against them, that 
 those who had so rebelled should die in the 
 wilderness. In this manner they were made 
 to feel the danger of preferring their personal 
 desires to the course of duty which God had 
 assigned to them ; and there was strongly im- 
 pressed upon them the important truth, that 
 " man shall not live by bread alone, but by 
 every word that proceedeth out of the mouth 
 of God." 
 
 There was a considerable analogy between 
 the case of the Israelites, now referred to, and 
 th^ circumstances in which the Messiah was 
 placed at the commencement of his life of obe- 
 dience and suffering. He had entered upon a 
 mighty undertaking, every part of which was 
 essential to the accomplishment of the whole. 
 After his youth had been spent in comparative 
 obscurity, he was now entering upon that 
 course of life in which his work as Mediator 
 was more peculiarly to consist. An impor- 
 tant part of this was, that he should be subject- 
 ed to temptation, and triumph over it in all its 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 253 
 
 parts. In this a double purpose was to be ac- 
 complished. He was to pass through an im- 
 portant part of the work assigned to him in his 
 mediatorial character, and he was to leave 
 his people a bright example of how temptation 
 was to be combated. In this part of his trial 
 he Was made to endure hunger, and he suffer- 
 ed from it as any other man would suffer. 
 The object of the tempter was to make him 
 rebel against this part of the course which his 
 heavenly Father had prescribed for him, in 
 prosecuting that mighty dispensation which he 
 had undertaken to accomplish ; and the tempt- 
 ation was to call in his own power as God to 
 relieve this part of his sufferings as man. Had 
 the temptation been given way to, this would 
 have implied a want of confidence in God re- 
 garding the course which had been assigned 
 to the Messiah to go through, a want of reli- 
 ance on the aid which had been promised hitici 
 in that course, and specially and particularly, 
 it would have implied a shrinking from the 
 great work which he had undertaken, when- 
 ever he began to experience from it an inter- 
 ference with his personal comfort. Most aptly, 
 therefore, does he employ, in repelling the 
 Y 
 
254 THE MESSIAH 
 
 temptation, the words which Moses addressed 
 to the Israelites, implying that a man's duty in 
 •every instance is to mark the course which 
 God has assigned to him, and not to shrink 
 from it on account of any considerations of a 
 personal nature ; in all cases to take for his 
 guide, not his own inclinations as to personal 
 comfort or personal interest, but " every word 
 that proceedeth out of the mouth of God." 
 
 Thus was the temptation skilfully made, 
 and thus was it promptly repelled by an imme- 
 diate reference to the word of God. Though, 
 in one sense, the subject refers only to the cir- 
 cumstances in which the Messiah was placed, 
 it is fraught with most important instruction. 
 
 I. We learn how temptation ought, in all 
 cases, to be combated by an immediate appeal 
 to the word of God, "thus it is written." As 
 this, indeed, is the only method by which 
 temptation can be resisted with effect, it is also 
 that alone by which it can be met on those 
 high principles which are worthy of such a 
 contest. We may suppose a man, when ex- 
 posed to a particular temptation, considering 
 how the yielding to it would be likely to affect 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 255 
 
 his health, his interest, or his character in the 
 estimation of other men ; and it is probable 
 that such reasoning may, and often does, pre- 
 vail against various temptations. But this is 
 not to overcome temptation — it is to balance 
 one selfish feeling against another. Widely 
 opposed to all such parleying with evil is the 
 high and simple rule of an immediate reference 
 to the will of God. And as this is the only 
 true resource of the soul under temptation, it 
 is the only effectual one ; for, whenever we 
 approach such a subject by any speculations 
 of our own, a train arises in the mind, which, 
 before we are aware of it, may have turned 
 the inclination in favour of evil. And even 
 though the actual deed should be prevented by 
 motives of any such description, the purity of 
 the mind has been injured, and the next tempt- 
 ation may find it in a condition more prepared 
 to be assailed and conquered. 
 
 It was thus that our first parents fell. On 
 them, also, the attack was made in an insidious 
 and artful manner. It was a temptation to 
 violate a positive command of God, on the 
 ground of important benefits to be derived 
 from the violation ; and it was coupled with 
 
256 THE MESSIAH 
 
 the insinuation of a doubt of the truth of God 
 as to the penalty which he had declared against 
 the transgression, "ye shall not surely die." 
 Had this insinuation been met, as in the case 
 of the Messiah, by a simple and decided appeal 
 to the command of God, the temptation would 
 have been at an end. But, on the suggestion 
 of important benefits to be derived from the 
 transgression, the woman allowed her mind to 
 entertain the subject ; and her imagination 
 went out upon the advantages which were 
 promised. The attention being thus fixed 
 upon these alleged advantages, there next suc- 
 ceeded desire ; and then was decided her 
 moral destiny, for the balance was then turn- 
 ed in favour of transgression. She saw that 
 the tree was good, and that it was to he desired 
 to make one wise. In this desire consisted 
 her fall ; the actual transgression was its nat- 
 ural consequence. And thus will it be with 
 every one who meets temptation on any other 
 principle than asking: himself what is the will of 
 God. If he takes this high and simple course, 
 he will find in th'e word of God a guide adapt- 
 ed to every situation in which he can be pla- 
 ced. No temptation can assail him, either 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 257 
 
 from spiritual enemies without or corrupt af- 
 fections within, which he may not promptly 
 meet by the denunciation, " thus it is written.** 
 Such was the experience of the Psalmist, " Thy 
 word have I hid in my heart, that I might not 
 sin against thee." 
 
 This simple and effectual rule for meeting 
 temptation is adapted to every class of induce- 
 ments to evil ; and it tends to prevent the 
 moral feelings from being degraded by an ap- 
 peal to motives of an inferior kind, which have 
 been already referred to. Such motives, we 
 have seen, may in many instances preserve 
 from temptation, but in a manner which can- 
 not be employed without leaving a stain upon 
 the mind. And besides this, it is to be remem- 
 bered that there is a class of transgressions 
 which such motives cannot reach in any de- 
 gree — those sins which elude the eye of man — 
 those iniquities of the heart which are open 
 only to Him who seeth in secret. These can 
 be restrained and conquered by no secondary 
 motives. He who would contend with them 
 must have recourse to a direct appeal to the 
 will of God ; and feeling deeply his own weak- 
 ness in the mighty contest, he will soon per- 
 
258 THE MESSIAH 
 
 ceive the necessity of throwing himself upon 
 a power which is not in man, but a power 
 which is promised to every one that asks it, 
 to make him conqueror over all his spiritual 
 enemies, " through him that loved us.'^ 
 
 When this course is not followed — when 
 iniquity in the heart is allowed to retain its 
 command of the imagination, it next fixes it- 
 self in the desires, and the moral purity of the 
 mind breaks down before it. And it is here 
 most important to observe how the powers of 
 judging then become impaired respecting the 
 moral aspect of the favoured sin, and respect- 
 ing the sentence which God has pronounced 
 against it. That bold denial of the truth of 
 God by which the tempter imposed upon our 
 first parents, is precisely the sophism by which 
 men deceive themselves to their eternal de- 
 struction. They go on in a course of forget- 
 fulness of God and of his law, with his word 
 in their hand, and a voice within which often 
 warns them that they are departing from the 
 living God. They do not hazard the bold as- 
 sertion that the course they are pursuing is 
 according to his will, nor does it meet the ap- 
 probation of their own conscience when, in 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 259 
 
 certain seasons of reflection, they listen to the 
 warnings of that monitor within. But they 
 still speak peace to themselves, under a certain 
 undefined reliance on the mercy of God, which, 
 when fairly analyzed, amounts to nothing less 
 than the ancient sophism, " Ye shall not surely 
 die." Neither will they assert, if the question 
 is distinctly proposed to them, that God is a 
 being of undistinguishing mercy, who will de- 
 part from all the laws which he has made; 
 for this, they perceive, would be entirely in- 
 consistent with the character of a moral gov- 
 ernor. But still there is with them an accom- 
 modating standard of mercy, which stretches 
 out before them so as always to include them- 
 selves; and, respecting their own condition, 
 the delusive fallacy still writhes itself around 
 their moral perceptions, " Ye shall not surely 
 die." 
 
 II. The second lesson which we learn from 
 this part of the Messiah's history is, that in all 
 cases we must be ready to sacrifice our per- 
 sonal desires, feelings, and interests, when call- 
 ed upon to do so by our duty to God, and a 
 conscientious performance of the work which 
 
260 THE MESSIAH 
 
 he has given us to do. Men are too apt to im- 
 agine that, if they discharge the requirements 
 of justice, and, to a certain extent, the offices 
 of benevolence, towards their fellow-men, they 
 are at liberty to gratify, with little restraint^ 
 the principles of self-love — to promote in va- 
 rious ways their own ease, interest, and grat- 
 ification. But the example of the Messiah 
 places before them a higher standard — the 
 principle of pure devotedness to God, before 
 which every selfish principle will fall, when- 
 ever the two sources of action come to be in 
 any degree opposed to each other. The ex- 
 alted tone of character and feeling thus arising 
 will lead a man earnestly to inquire how he 
 can promote the glory of God, and the high- 
 est interests of man — what are the talents 
 which have been committed to him, and for 
 the improvement of which he must give an 
 account of his stewardship — what are the va- 
 rious means of usefulness by which he can 
 follow the footsteps of his Divine Master, and 
 manifest towards him the spirit of devotedness 
 and love — what works can he perform, what 
 sacrifices can he make, in the service of One 
 who has redeemed him to God by his blood ? 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 261 
 
 III. From this subject we learn farther, that 
 the part of our constitution which is sustained 
 by " bread" ought to hold a place in our esti- 
 mation very subordinate to the object which 
 claims our first and highest regard — the cul- 
 ture of the moral being for the life which is 
 to come. For this high purpose, God has pro- 
 vided us with special means and special as- 
 sistance calculated to promote our spiritual 
 improvement, and our growing conformity to 
 his own image. Whoever feels as he ought 
 the supreme importance of these concerns, will 
 have forcibly impressed upon him the truth of 
 the declaration, "that man shall not live by 
 bread alone, but by every word that proceed- 
 eth out of the mouth of God." 
 
 IV. At this part of the subject, we may re- 
 mark, in reference to temptation in general, 
 that there are principles of our nature to which 
 every kind of temptation is more particularly 
 directed. These principles are parts of our 
 mental constitution, and intended to answer 
 important purposes in our social and moral 
 relations. I allude to such principles as self- 
 love, love of approbation, desire of distinction, 
 
262 THE MESSIAH 
 
 and various others of the same class, which 
 are usually considered by writers in moral 
 science as primary elements of human nature. 
 To answer their proper purposes in the con- 
 stitution of man, they require to be kept under 
 ' the strict control of conscience, and the great 
 principle of duty to God. When they break 
 from under these restraints, as in our fallen 
 state they are so apt to do, they degenerate 
 into those which are so familiar to us as the 
 fallen propensities of our nature. Self love, 
 which is intended to promote our preservation 
 and necessary comfort, then degenerates into 
 selfishness, or low selfish indulgence ; and the 
 other principles degenerate in the same man- 
 ner, both in the objects to which they are de- 
 voted, and the means by which the attainment 
 of them is sought for. According to these 
 views, we may remark, that the first tempta- 
 tion of the Messiah appears to have been di- 
 rected to self-love, and the temptation was to 
 gratify it in a manner which was inconsistent 
 with the circumstances in which he was then 
 placed in his state of humiliation. In the same 
 manner, it would appear that the second tempt- 
 ation was directed to the desire of distinction, 
 
A3 AN EXAMPLE. 263 
 
 and the temptation was to gratify this by 
 means which were unwarrantable. Next to 
 self-love, this may be considered as one of the 
 most powerful principles of our nature. We 
 see it carrying before it every other feeling — 
 giving rise to the most unparalleled exertions, 
 and then overcoming self-love itself Men 
 will run into any danger, encounter any dif- 
 ficulty, submit to any privation and suffering, 
 and even expose themselves to the danger of 
 deoth, for the sake of distinction, and the 
 tempter appears to have expected to find this 
 propensity as strong in the Messiah as he knew 
 it to be in other men. 
 
 In regard to Self-love, which appears to 
 have been more particularly addressed in the 
 first temptation, we cannot fail to perceive 
 how carefully it ought to be watched over, 
 and how much it tends, if not duly regulated, 
 to interfere with the high principle of devo- 
 ted ness to God. It is opposed to every self- 
 denying duty, and to everything in which 
 we are called to prefer the interests of others 
 to our own, or to sacrifice our own ease or 
 interest to a sense of our duty to God or our 
 duty to man. It is often opposed to a full and 
 
264 THE MESSIAH 
 
 perfect exercise of the benevolent affections, 
 which ought to lead us to place ourselves in 
 the situation of others, and to seek how we 
 may promote their comfort and their good. 
 It is opposed to the forgiveness of injuries, 
 which must require a sacrifice of selfish feel- 
 ing ; and it must often be in danger of inter- 
 fering with that brotherly-kindness and charity 
 which hold so important a place in the high 
 morality of the Gospel of Christ. Thus the 
 principle of self-love, when allowed to usurp 
 an undue influence, tends to everything that is 
 unworthy of a healthy moral condition. The 
 strict regulation of it holds a most important 
 place in the sound culture of the moral being, 
 and is often referred to in Scripture as a lead- 
 ing object of attention to every one who as- 
 pires to that high attainment the imitation of 
 the example of Jesus. On various occasions 
 he has himself delivered the brief but solemn 
 declaration, " If any man will be my disciple, 
 let him deny himself." 
 
 § II. SECOND TEMPTATION, 
 
 " Then the devil taketh him up into the holy 
 city, and setteth him on a pinnacle of the tem- 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 265 
 
 pie ; and saith unto him, If thou be the Son of 
 God, cast thyself down, for it is written, he 
 shall give his angels charge concerning thee ; 
 and in their hands they shall bear thee up, 
 lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a 
 stone. Jesus said unto him, it is written again, 
 Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God." 
 
 The second temptation, like the first, was 
 met by a prompt appeal to the word of God. 
 Let us, as in the former instance, trace the 
 circumstances to which the expression, quoted 
 by the Messiah, refers. In the sixth chapter 
 of Deuteronomy, Moses is impressing upon the 
 Israelites the conduct which it was their duty 
 to observe towards God, in the prospect of 
 entering the promised land. After a variety 
 of injunctions, he adds, at the 16th verse," Ye 
 shall not tempt the Lord your God, as ye 
 tempted him in Massah." The tempting of 
 God in Massah is related in Exodus, xvii., 1- 
 7. The Israelites, in their journey, had ar- 
 rived at Rephidim ; they found there no water, 
 and they began to suffer from thirst. Their 
 condition, at this time, was altogether most pe- 
 culiar. By mighty signs and wonders, which 
 had struck terror into the whole land of Egypt, 
 Z 
 
266 THB MESSIAH 
 
 they had recently been delivered from the 
 bondage of the Egyptians. In a miraculoua 
 manner the sea had been divided before them ; 
 a constant and standing evidence of the pres- 
 ence of God had been placed v^rithin their sight, 
 in the pillar of cloud by day, and the pillar of 
 fire by night, which accompanied them in all 
 their journey ; and their food was provided in 
 a miraculous manner, by the daily descent of 
 the precise quantity which was required for 
 their support. With such manifest evidence 
 continually before them that they were under 
 the special and peculiarguidanceof God, their 
 duty evidently was, when they met with a 
 want of water, to stand still in reverent expec- 
 tation that God would also supply this want, 
 whenever the time came when he thought 
 right to do so. Instead of this, they murmured 
 against Moses, saying, " Wherefore is it that 
 thou hast brought us up out of Egypt, to kill us, 
 and our children, and our cattle with thirst ?** 
 The want was soon miraculously supplied; 
 but it is added, " Moses called the name of the 
 place Massah and Meribah, because of the 
 chiding of the children of Israel, and because 
 they tempted the Lord, saying, Is the Lord 
 among us or not ?" 
 
\ AS AN EXAMPLE. 267 
 
 What is here called " tempting the Lord,** 
 appears, therefore, to mean, putting to the trial 
 his patience and forbearance by their want of 
 confidence in his power to relieve them, after 
 all the proofs he had so recently given thai 
 he was among them in a special and most pe- 
 culiar manner, and, as it w^ere, calling in ques- 
 tion whether he was really among them, be- 
 cause he had not instantly supplied them with 
 water ; or perhaps they might be considered 
 as impatiently calling upon him for this proof 
 of his being really among them, thus setting 
 aside all the proofs he had already given them, 
 and presumptuously challenging him to this 
 additional evidence. It seems to be as if they 
 had said, Let him do this, and we will acknowl- 
 edge his power to perform what he has prom- 
 ised; as the Jews said of the Saviour on an- 
 other remarkable occasion, " Let him now 
 come down from the cross, and we will be- 
 lieve him." 
 
 At the time when the temptations of the 
 
 Messiah took place, he had spent about thirty 
 
 years in a mean and low condition, scarcely 
 
 known except as a carpenter's son. He had 
 
 ome into the world to assume the high char- 
 
268 THE MESSIAH 
 
 acter of the Redeemer of Israel, but nothing 
 had occurred during this long period to point 
 him out to the Jewish nation as anything more 
 than an ordinary man, excepting the single 
 event of his baptism, when a voice from heav- 
 en proclaimed him as the beloved Son of God. 
 This, hov^ever, does not appear to have at- 
 tracted much notice among the people. The 
 nature of the temptation, therefore, appears to 
 have been this : If you are indeed the Son of 
 God, and the promised Messiah, as you pro- 
 fess to be, w^hy do you not make yourself 
 known as such by some act which will con- 
 vince the nation, so that they may believe in 
 you. Here is an opportunity for doing so: 
 throw yourself from this pinnacle, and alight 
 unharmed amid the multitude below (in the 
 court of the temple, a place of great resort), 
 and they will immediately do homage to you 
 as the Messiah. Let God also thus give tes- 
 timony to your pretensions by preserving you 
 in doing so, as he has promised to preserve 
 the Messiah in all circumstances, that he may 
 not even dash his foot against a stone. 
 
 The answer of the Saviour seems to imply, 
 In the prosecution of my work as Mediator, I 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 269 
 
 am pursuing a course which my Father has 
 assigned to me. When his time comes, means 
 will be taken for giving evidence of my char- 
 acter ; till then, it is not for me to attempt this 
 purpose by a rash and unwarranted act such 
 as you propose. I am indeed promised his 
 special protection in the prosecution of this 
 work, but I am not authorized to throw my- 
 self unnecessarily into circumstances of danger, 
 so as to challenge him to this display of his 
 promised support ; as it is written, " Thou 
 shalt not tempt the Lord thy God." 
 
 The principles thus brought before us in the 
 second temptation are again full of the most 
 important instruction. 
 
 I. We see, as in the former instance, the 
 temptation met by a prompt and instant appeal 
 to the word of God. There is no entertaining 
 of the subject — no consideration of the benefits 
 promised. The answer is simply, " It is writ- 
 ten." In the same manner, we may often be 
 placed in circumstances in which courses of 
 conduct are presented to us that seem to prom- 
 ise important benefits, and we feel in doubt 
 Z 2 
 
270 THE MESSIAH 
 
 whether it would be desirable to prosecute 
 them or not. Our first inquiry in all such 
 cases ought to be, What is most in accordance 
 with our duty to God, and the high principle 
 of devotedness to him ? If a man, in all cases 
 of doubt, commences with this inquiry, and 
 with a sincere desire to be guided by it, he 
 will seldom err in judgment respecting the 
 course which, in any instance, he ought to pur- 
 sue. 
 
 II. We learn the regulation atid control of 
 a principle of our nature of most extensive in- 
 fluence — the desire of distinction and pre-emi- 
 nence among men. To a certain extent this 
 is a legitimate source of action, provided it be 
 kept under strict subjection to higher princi- 
 ples. It is blameable when it becomes itself 
 the leading rule of conduct, keeping out of 
 view, or interfering with, the great principle 
 of devotedness to God. To learn the impor- 
 tance of a due regulation of this principle, in- 
 deed, we have only to look at those who have 
 given up their minds to the desire of distinction 
 as their leading object in life. From the man 
 who grasps at being master of the world, and 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 271 
 
 carries misery and desolation before him in his 
 course of ruthless ambition, to him who frets 
 and wearies himself for eminence in a humbler 
 sphere, the principle is the same. It is a rest- 
 lessness of their nature, which leads men never 
 to be satisfied with their present lot, but to 
 labour after some distinction among their fel- 
 lows — something that will be the admiration 
 or the envy of those around them. For this 
 they toil and labour — for this they disquiet 
 themselves, neglecting alike, it may be, present 
 duties and present comforts. The course is 
 attended with emulation, jealousy, and envy, 
 directed against those who cross them in their 
 path, and the failure produces similar passions 
 against those fortunate rivals who have sup- 
 planted them in the world's estimation. Even 
 the attainment, perhaps, disappoints their hopes, 
 and they find, when their laborious course is 
 over, that they have been toiling for that which 
 cannot satisfy. To all such, the exhortation 
 addressed by the Messiah is, " Take my yoke 
 upon you and learn of me, for I am meek and 
 lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest to your 
 souls." Retire from a course which presents 
 nothing but tumult and disappointment; be 
 
272 THE MESSIAH 
 
 satisfied with the lot which Providence has 
 assigned to you in your short and uncertain 
 state of moral discipline ; rest not even in its 
 comforts, if such it presents to you, but study 
 with anxious care its high and varied duties, 
 and its solemn responsibilities. Seek, above 
 all things, an acquaintance with God — peace 
 with him, and growing devotedness to his ser- 
 vice. The pursuit will bring with it neither 
 disquiet nor disappointment ; it will carry peace 
 in its daily course, and in its accomplishment 
 life eternal. 
 
 III. We learn from this subject that in all 
 cases in which we are encouraged to look for 
 Divine assistance, we are to do so in a diligent 
 use of the means which are in our own power, 
 and are not, in reliance on that aid, presumptu- 
 ously to place ourselves in the way of danger: 
 " Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God/' 
 We incur the guilt against which this exhor- 
 tation is addressed when we tamper with sin- 
 when we place ourselves in circumstances in 
 which we are exposed to temptation — when 
 we bring ourselves under the influence of so- 
 ciety, conversation, reading, or circumstances 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 273 
 
 of any description which have a tendency to 
 corrupt the imagination or derange the moral 
 feelings. We incur it when we allow the 
 thoughts to wander upon forbidden ground, or 
 meet temptation on any other principle than a 
 prompt and simple appeal to the Word of God, 
 accompanied by aspiration after Divine aid. 
 The man who runs heedlessly into temptation, 
 either by external circumstances, or by the 
 allowed wanderings of his own imagination, 
 and then, feeling his danger, seeks this aid from 
 heaven, has no reason to complain if the aid 
 be denied, for his whole conduct is met by the 
 denunciation, " Thou shalt not tempt the Lord 
 thy God." 
 
 But we incur the guilt involved in this ex- 
 pression not only by voluntarily placing our- 
 selves in circumstances of danger, but also by 
 neglecting the diligent use of those means 
 which are in our power towards the culture 
 of the moral being. In this high achievement, 
 indeed, we cannot take one effectual step with- 
 out an influence from on high, which alone has 
 power to purify the heart. But this is prom- 
 ised to us in the use of certain means, and in 
 the diligent exercise of powers which we pos- 
 
274 THE BIESSIAH 
 
 sess as rational beings. We feel that we have 
 the power, however we may want the inclina- 
 tion, to withdraw our thoughts from objects of 
 sense, and to raise them to God — to contem- 
 plate his character and his will — to bring our 
 conduct under rigid examination on the prin- 
 ciples of his law — to ask ourselves seriously 
 what we are doing, and what preparation we 
 are making for the life which is to come. 
 This we can do, as rational beings, if we will ; 
 and in doing so, with earnest prayer for Divine 
 aid, we are encouraged to look for this aid. ac- 
 cording to our need. But the man who pro- 
 fesses to seek this influence, and is not thus 
 putting himself to the work of solemn and se- 
 rious thought, incurs the guilt implied in the 
 denunciation, " Thou shalt not tempt the Lord 
 thy God." 
 
 § III. THIRD TEMPTATION. 
 
 " Again, the devil taketh him up into an ex- 
 ceeding high mountain, and showeth him all 
 the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of 
 them ; and saith unto him, all these things will 
 I give thee if thou wilt fall down and worship 
 me. Then saith Jesus unto him, Get thee 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 275 
 
 hence, Satan ; for it is written, Thou shalt wor- 
 ship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt 
 thou serve." 
 
 In the first two temptations of the Messiah, 
 the object of the tempter seems to have been, 
 to produce in him a line of conduct inconsis- 
 tent with the course which was assigned to 
 him in his mediatorial character. Self-love 
 was appealed to in the first, as opposed to the 
 privations he was suffering, and the desire of 
 distinction in the second, as opposed to the 
 mean and low condition in which he appeared 
 in the world. This also was accompanied 
 by an attempt to lead him to a presumptuous 
 and unwarranted appeal to that aid from 
 God which had been promised to attend him 
 through his whole course upon earth. In the 
 third temptation there is a more undisguised 
 appeal to those principles of human nature 
 which, in their unregulated state, lead men to 
 seek after the wealth, the power, the pleasure, 
 and the splendour of earthly things as their 
 chief good. How many are there to whom 
 these seem to present the only objects thought 
 worthy of being sought after ; and what un- 
 hallowed means have they recourse to in the 
 
276 THE MESSIAH 
 
 pursuit of them. How often, in this course, 
 do they seem to have forgotten entirely the 
 duty and allegiance which they owe to God, 
 and appear as if they had actually surrendered 
 themselves avowedly and deliberately to the 
 service of the Prince of Darkness, as if they 
 had fallen down and worshipped him. To be 
 satisfied of this, we can appeal to the page of 
 history, and even to our own observation. 
 We can there follow the man of ambition 
 through the course of crime by which he has 
 risen to the eminence that he aspired to — the 
 man of pleasure through the course of profli- 
 gacy by which he has pursued his chosen en- 
 joyments — or the man of avarice through the 
 means by which he has accumulated his gold. 
 All such, and many similar observations, serve 
 to show, that the eager pursuit of worldly 
 things is inconsistent with the spirit of pure 
 and simple devotedness to the Divine will ; 
 and that, when a man makes up his mind to 
 ' seek them as his chief good, he voluntarily 
 places himself in circumstances which must 
 lead to the sacrifice of an habitual recognition 
 of the duty and homage which he owes to God. 
 This appears to be what is meant by the tempt- 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 277 
 
 er when he says, " if thou wilt fall down and 
 worship me." It is a figurative mode of ex- 
 pression, which probably implies a prostration 
 of mind to the pursuit of earthly enjoyments, 
 and a state of moral feeling which leaves a man 
 ready to sacrifice the principles of devotedness 
 to God whenever these come in the way of 
 those objects to which he has devoted himself. 
 On this view, then, the object of the tempta- 
 tion would appear to be, to place before the 
 human nature of the Messiah the allurements 
 of earthly things — the wealth, the power, the 
 distinction, the enjoyments, to be found in 
 earthly pursuits ; and, along with this, the in- 
 sinuation that they were to be obtained, but 
 not without some sacrifice of devotedness to 
 God. A man on whom such a temptation took 
 effect would fix the imagination on the prom- 
 ised good, and make up his mind to the venture ; 
 that is, to go through with whatever means 
 might be found necessary for carrying his pur- 
 pose ; and this prostration of mind appears to 
 be what is meant by falling down and wor- 
 shipping the tempter. But the answer of the 
 Messiah was as prompt as before, and was now 
 accompanied with an expression of indigna- 
 A A 
 
278 THE MESSIAH 
 
 tion at the baseness of the insinuation : " Get 
 thee hence, Satan ; for it is written, Thou shalt 
 worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt 
 thou serve." Thus was the temptation met 
 by the immaculate mind of the Messiah. He 
 entertains not the subject for a moment, not 
 even to point out the worthlessness of the ob- 
 jects which were presented to him. The case 
 does not admit of argument; the course is 
 distinct and clear ; the will of God is the sim- 
 ple and absolute rule ; whatever is not in ex- 
 act consistency with this, is sin. God alone 
 is worthy of homage ; his law is the supreme 
 and only guide, from which there is no appeal, 
 and which admits of no rival. 
 
 The practical lesson to be derived from this 
 subject is addressed more particularly to those 
 who have chosen as their chief good the wealth, 
 the honours, and the pleasures of life, and are 
 pursuing them with little consideration of the 
 pursuits, the duties, and the responsibilities 
 which are pressed upon them by the supreme 
 authority of God. In the principles by which 
 their conduct is guided, there is no recognition 
 of the will, and no impression of the all-seeing 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 279 
 
 eye of him who claims their sole allegiance ; 
 and they must be sensible that their leading 
 object in life is not a desire to be conformed 
 to his law. Other objects occupy their desires 
 than the approbation of him who seeth their 
 inmost thoughts — other pursuits engage their 
 attention than the anxiety to be acceptable in 
 his sight. In the views and feelings which 
 regulate their plans in life, there is no ac- 
 knowledgment of him who has a right to their 
 undivided homage ; they therefore kneel to an- 
 other power, and serve another master. To 
 all such, the warning comes with deep and 
 solemn import, " Thou shalt worship the Lord 
 thy God, and him only shalt thou serve f and 
 this is addressed with equal force, whatever 
 may be the false god to whose service they 
 may have resigned themselves. 
 
 Have you, with all the hardihood of the 
 Prince of Darkness, devoted yourself to his 
 service, and declared an open rebellion against 
 him who rules in heaven ? Are you, in a course 
 of profanity and vice, despising his law, setting 
 at naught his authority, and pouring contempt 
 upon his name, his character, and his service ? 
 With true allegiance to the leader whom you 
 
280 THE MESSIAfl 
 
 obey, are you not only yourself following this 
 downward course, but contributing to draw 
 others into the same career of folly and of sin? 
 You have all the characters of a faithful and 
 devoted servant ; but remember that you kneel 
 to a power and serve a master in avowed 
 rebellion against him who has the sovereign 
 claim to your sole allegiance. Your reward, 
 it may be, is in " the kingdoms of this world, 
 and the glory of them ;" but have you calcu- 
 lated the fearful venture ? Have you forgot- 
 ten that he with whom you contend is the in- 
 comprehensible One, whose power is commen- 
 surate with his justice — and both are unbound- 
 ed — that he marks every step in your path, 
 and every hour of your period of moral dis- 
 cipline, as it glides unheeded over you ? And 
 does the solemn truth never meet you in some 
 moment of sober thought, that a day is fast 
 approaching when his character will shine 
 forth in all its fearful attributes, and his arm 
 awake to vengeance ? 
 
 But perhaps mammon is your god. With 
 calm and uniform purpose you have devoted 
 yourself to the acquisition of wealth, and this 
 pursuit, it may be, has preserved you from a 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 281 
 
 course of headlong folly and vice. It may 
 have been the source of conduct that is fair 
 and honourable, and you are passing through 
 hfe vi^ith a character of much that is estimable, 
 and naught that is greatly offensive in the eyes 
 of men. But do you v^rorship the Lord your 
 God, and him only do you serve? Do you 
 live under the habitual sense of his presence, 
 and the habitual recognition of his supreme 
 authority ? Is his will your diligent study, and 
 the uniform rule of all your doings? and do 
 you take no step in life v^ithout proposing to 
 yourself the question, Will it be pleasing to 
 God ? If your mind bears witness that there 
 is no such acknowledgment of him in your 
 habitual principles of action— that the usual 
 current of your thoughts and desires is to other 
 objects than those which refer to God and to 
 things eternal — that your plans and schemes 
 for life are regulated by other views, and de- 
 cided by other motives, then you must perceive 
 that you present all the characters of one who 
 kneels to another power and serves another 
 master. 
 
 The same mode of reasoning, it is evident, 
 applies to all those courses of life by which 
 A A 2 
 
282 THE MESSIAH 
 
 men devote themselves to the attainment of 
 temporal objects — the paths of ambition — the 
 pursuit of fame — the desire of distinction — and 
 even to the quiet, unobtrusive course of those 
 M^ho seek only their own ease, gratification, 
 and enjoyment. With them, day after day 
 finds its simple pleasures or its more exciting 
 amusements, and life passes without anything 
 that is discreditable according to the maxims 
 of men. But the solemn question recurs, Is 
 this a course adapted to the high responsibili- 
 ties of a state of moral discipline ? Does the 
 individual who thus glides through life feel the 
 solemn truth, that each day, as it passes over 
 him, is a portion gone by of that short and un- 
 certain space which is given him to prepare 
 for an eternal being ? Does he feel all the 
 dread solemnity of a life that is to come ? 
 does he recognise the reality of that eye which 
 has followed him through every step of his 
 moral history? He can have no adequate 
 feeling of these momentous truths ; living only 
 for himself, he presents all the characters of 
 one who is passing through life entirely re- 
 gardless of the solemn warning, " Thou shalt 
 worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt 
 thou serve." 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 283 
 
 PART 11. 
 
 THE MESSIAH AS AN EXAMPLE OF CONDUCT 
 IN THE VARIOUS RELATIONS OF LIFE. 
 
 While the human nature of the Messiah af- 
 fords a bright example of our resources under 
 temptation, it is no less valuable as a pattern 
 for our imitation in the daily intercourse and 
 various relations of life. On this wide and ex- 
 tensive subject we can here touch but very 
 briefly. The following leading considerations 
 may include some of the points, which, in a 
 practical view, are most deserving of our at- 
 tention, and of which numerous illustrations 
 will occur to every one who reads with atten- 
 tion the life of the Saviour. 
 
 I. In the whole of the Messiah's conduct 
 upon earth, he uniformly referred to the will 
 of his heavenly Father as the rule by which 
 he was habitually influenced. " I came down 
 from heaven, not to do mine own will, but the 
 will of him that sent me" — " my meat is to do 
 
284 THE MESSIAH 
 
 the will of him that sent me, and to finish his 
 work." In the prosecution of this great pur- 
 pose, he threw aside all those personal and 
 selfish feelings by which men are so much in- 
 fliuenced. He appeared in a mean and low 
 condition, and took upon him the form of a 
 servant. He sought not his own ease, or hon- 
 our, or comfort, but the honour of God, and 
 the highest interests of man. If such, through 
 life. Was the conduct of him who " thought it 
 not robbery to be equal with God," how is the 
 example binding upon those whom he came to 
 save ? The important lesson could not have 
 been more powerfully impressed upon us, that, 
 in our passage through this scene of moral dis- 
 cipline, each has his place assigned to him by 
 the Great Disposer of all things, and that this 
 place, whether higher or lower, has attached to 
 it duties and responsibilities for which we must 
 give an account to him who has a right to our 
 absolute homage. In all these, his law is our 
 unerring guide, and he has enforced its re- 
 quirements by the principle of conscience with- 
 in us, which, when we listen to its warnings, 
 never fails to plead for God. It is not enough 
 that a certain feeling of this responsibility pre- 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 285 
 
 serves from those violations of his law which 
 attract the notice of man. The example of 
 the Messiah points to a standard higher and 
 purer far. It requires us to have habitually 
 upon our minds a sense of the presence and 
 perfections of God, and habitually to bring 
 every act, every pursuit, and every desire to 
 the test of his will. In prosecution of this 
 great purpose, it calls upon us to deny our- 
 selves — not by monkish austerities, as if he 
 could be pleased by voluntary and useless suf- 
 fering, but to deny ourselves every selfish de- 
 sire and every personal gratification, when 
 these interfere in any degree with our duty to 
 him, or our zealous prosecution of the work 
 wrhich he has given us to do. It calls us to 
 seek out, with anxious care, the various duties 
 and the various means of usefulness which 
 arise out of the situation in which God has 
 placed us; to consider the talents which he 
 has given us to be improved for his glory and 
 the good of men ; and to examine ourselves 
 rigidly whether we are improving them in a 
 manner which will stand the test of that dread 
 morning of an eternal day. In all these con- 
 cerns we are too apt to look to our own ease, 
 
286 THE MESSIAH 
 
 interest, and pleasure. The example of the 
 Messiah impresses upon us in the strongest 
 manner that our leading, our uniform inquiry 
 ought in every instance to be. What is the will 
 of God ? what is the course of conduct which 
 tends most to promote his glory ? what is that 
 culture of the habits, dispositions, and affec- 
 tions of the mind, which will bear the scrutiny 
 of his all-seeing eye, and the test of the uner- 
 ring standard of his word ? what is the culture 
 of the whole character that approaches most 
 nearly to the example which the Messiah has 
 left us, that we should follow his steps ? 
 
 II. The means adapted for our assistance 
 and guidance in this great design are strikingly 
 pointed out in the example of the Messiah. He 
 maintained habitual intercourse with God : he 
 sought solitude and retirement, that he might 
 cultivate this converse with his Father in heav- 
 en. From the most zealous discharge of his 
 public ministry he retired for devotion ; and, 
 disregarding even the personal wants, which, 
 as a man, we know he felt as other men, he 
 spent whole nights in prayer. Even in his 
 last dread agony, when his human nature 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 287 
 
 seemed ready to sink under the prospect of 
 that suffering by which his mighty work was 
 to be accomplished, he still sought refuge in 
 "offering up prayers and supplications, with 
 strong crying and tears, unto him that was able 
 to save h:m from death, and was heard in that 
 he feared." We cannot doubt that this pur- 
 pose might have been fulfilled by his own Di- 
 vine nature, had such been the appointment of 
 God. But, if we may dare to speculate on 
 such a subject, we may say, that thus a high 
 purpose would have been unaccomplished. 
 He was acting and suffering as a man, and as 
 a man he left us an example how to act and 
 how to suffer. Let us feel all the weight of 
 this example, and learn how we may advance 
 with safety, with confidence, and with peace, 
 through the solemn scene which is carrying 
 us onward to an eternal state of being. It is 
 by cultivating habitual intercourse with God — 
 by seeking to feel upon our minds the constant 
 impression of his presence — by habitually re- 
 signing ourselves to his guidance, and com- 
 mitting ourselves to the wisdom and the 
 strength which he alone can give, both for 
 our conduct in this life, and our preparation 
 for the life which is to come* 
 
288 THE MESSIAH 
 
 III. Let us contemplate the Messiah as he 
 appeared in the various duties and relations of i 
 ordinary life. As a son, he was distinguished ^ 
 by filial reverence ; and even in the midst of 
 his last sufferings, he showed a tender interest 
 in the comfort of his mother. He had friendsj, j 
 and he warmly felt for their sorrows, and call- \ 
 ed down his divine power for their relief. He 
 had enemies, and he treated them with for- 
 bearance, and with his last breath he prayed 
 for pardon to his murderers. Mark the ten- 
 der kindness of his heart, as he shed tears over ' 
 the grave of him whom he loved ; mark his 
 tender compassion for sinners, as he wept over 
 Jerusalem. Who are the characters that are 
 specified as meeting his particular regard? 
 the poor in spirit, the meek, the merciful, the 
 mourner, the pure in heart, the peace-maker, 
 the persecuted, those who hunger and thirst 
 after righteousness. Who are among the in- 
 dividuals who are mentioned as engaging his 
 special notice ? the weeping penitent, the 
 mourning widow, the woman who likened her- 
 self to a dog that is permitted to eat the crumbs 
 which fall from the children's table, and all 
 who showed the most unbounded confidence 
 in his compassion and his power. 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 289 
 
 Whenever he came into contact with men 
 in the ordinary intercourse of life, his chief 
 concern was to relieve their bodily sufferings 
 and minister to their spiritual instruction. 
 When he was faint from thirst, and asked drink 
 of a woman of Samaria, and when she ex- 
 pressed her astonishment that a Jew should 
 ask drink of a Samaritan, he did not press his 
 personal wants, but turned the conversation 
 to her improvement. His divine power was 
 never exerted for his own relief, but very often 
 for the relief of others. He sought opportu- 
 nities for administering his benevolence and 
 kindness to man — he went about doing good. 
 He complained not of the frequency or the im- 
 portunity of their claims upon his compassion 
 — he complained only when they showed any 
 want of absolute confidence both in his power 
 and his mercy. 
 
 In his character as a teacher, observe the 
 searching spirituality of his doctrine, and the 
 uncompromising faithfulness with which he 
 pressed it home to the conscience, without re- 
 spect of persons or fear of man. Observe the 
 frequency and earnestness with which he im- 
 presses upon his followers love to each other, 
 
 B B 
 
290 THE MESSIAH 
 
 love to all men, forgiveness and kindness even 
 to their enemies. His common conversation 
 was always 'directed to the best interests ol 
 those who were brought into his society ; and 
 he took advantage of every circumstance, 
 either in passing events or natural objects, 
 from which he could deduce lessons of instruc- 
 tion. "All bare him witness, and wondered 
 at the gracious words that proceeded out of 
 his mouth ;" all were compelled to acknowl- 
 edge, " never man spake like this man." 
 
 In his whole deportment he was holy, harm- 
 less, undefiled, and separate from sinners ; he 
 sought not his own things, but the good of 
 many that they might be saved ; and this high 
 design, to which he had voluntarily devoted 
 himself, he followed out by a course of un- 
 wearied benevolence and patient suffering, till 
 in his last and greatest agony he could pro- 
 claim with triumph, " It is finished." 
 
 Such was the human nature of the Messiah 
 — a pattern of all that is pure, and lovely, and 
 of good report — of all that is gentle, and meek, 
 and lowly — of all that is kind, and benevolent, 
 and merciful. It was a pattern of self-denial 
 —of forgiveness of injuries — of patience amid 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 291 
 
 the contradictions of sinners — of active useful- 
 ness, both to the temporal wants and distresses 
 of men, and to their spiritual necessities. It 
 was an example of all those kindly feelings of 
 our nature which are calculated to bind men 
 together in tenderness, condescension, and love. 
 A feeling even for the infirmities of his disci- 
 ples is represented as a part of his character 
 for which he specially qualified himself in the 
 course of his mediatorial work : " We have 
 not a High Priest which cannot be touched 
 with the feeling of our infirmities, but was in 
 all points tempted like as we are, yet without 
 sin." His tender regard for the feeble ones 
 of his people is represented by a shepherd 
 carrying the lambs in his bosom. He invites 
 the weary and heavy-laden to come to him 
 and find rest — to take his yoke upon them, 
 and learn of him, for he was meek and lowly. 
 Well might the apostle, pleading with the Co- 
 rinthians, entreat them " by the meekness and 
 gentleness of Christ." Even the mighty work 
 by which he made his soul an offering for sin is 
 held out as a pattern for our imitation, in that 
 disposition of mind which led him to humble 
 himself for the best interests of man: "Let 
 
292 THE MESSIAH 
 
 this mind be in you which was also in Christ 
 Jesus, who, being in the form of God, thought 
 it not robbery to be equal with God, but made 
 himself of no reputation, and took upon him 
 the form of a servant, and was made in the 
 likeness of men ; and being found in fashion 
 as a man, he humbled himself, and became obe- 
 dient unto death, even the death of the cross." 
 Let those who profess to bear his name see 
 that they follow his steps. While they look 
 to him continually both as their righteousness 
 and their strength, let them earnestly watch 
 over their own progress of character, in a 
 growing conformity to the example of Jesus. 
 Habitually studying his character as their pat- 
 tern, and habitually relying upon his grace as 
 their strength, they may hope to grow in like- 
 ness to his image, and in preparation for the 
 enjoyment of his immediate presence. To 
 those who look earnestly to this example, 
 and aspire after increasing conformity to it as 
 more than any earthly good, it is of compara- 
 tively little moment what may be their lot in 
 the present life. They have learned to prize 
 another good, and to seek another portion. 
 Amid much weakness and many imperfections, 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 293 
 
 their eye is steadily fixed upon their heavenly 
 leader and guide, and they look forward with 
 humble confidence to the time when "they 
 shall be like him, for they shall see him as he 
 is." 
 
 IV. Finally, let us contemplate the Messiah 
 in his submission to the will of his heavenly 
 Father. We have seen this as it was exem- 
 plified in active service— it was no less re- 
 markable in patient suffering. The pains, dis- 
 tresses, and privations of life we know he suf- 
 fered in common with other men, but these he 
 suffered as if he felt them not. He endured 
 also the contradiction of sinners — he was de- 
 spised and rejected of men — a man of sorrows, 
 and acquainted with grief But the only ef- 
 fect which these sufferings had upon his pure 
 humanity was to make him weep over the 
 blindness and hardness of heart displayed by 
 his persecutors, and pray to his Father to for- 
 give them. One trial, indeed, he was destined 
 to endure, which wrung from his human na- 
 ture the agonizing cry, " My Father, if it be 
 possible, let this cup pass from me." But the 
 feeling was momentary, and the remedy was 
 B B 2 
 
294 THE MESSIAH 
 
 prompt as it was powerful : " Not my will, 
 but thine be done." 
 
 Instead of rushing, with profane speculation, 
 upon a scene which puts to silence the utmost 
 conceptions of man, let us resign our minds 
 to the high and important lessons which are 
 taught us by the suffering humanity of the Son 
 of God. Are we also called to suffer ? — and 
 in our passage through this scene, who can es- 
 cape from sorrow ?— let us look to the example 
 of Him who has taught us how to suffer. His 
 trials and sorrows were as a substitute — ours 
 are the immediate fruits of sin ; but they are 
 designed and calculated to promote our sep- 
 aration from the world, and to minister to our 
 spiritual improvement. Let us learn to ac- 
 knowledge the hand of that wise, and gracious, 
 and powerful One from whom they proceed, 
 who regulates their nature and their degree 
 by the great purposes which he designs them 
 to accomplish. The cup which our Father 
 has given us, shall we not drink it? Bitter 
 may be the draught, and deep the repugnance 
 with which it is contemplated by those feelings 
 of our nature which bind us down to present 
 things, but it comes not unsent ; and it comes 
 
AS AN EXAMPLE. 295 
 
 not in vain, if we receive it as dispensed in 
 love and in wisdom, and be chiefly solicitous 
 to derive from it the important benefits which 
 it is calculated to yield. It is a great moral 
 remedy, under which, when received with 
 proper feelings, we may specially look for 
 gracious communications of spiritual aid from 
 Him who seeks by means of it to promote the 
 health of the soul. In a course of active ser- 
 vice, there is a tone and an excitement by 
 which it carries with it its own stimulus, and, 
 in a great measure, its own reward. But 
 there is a scene which he who was once hum- 
 bled, and is now exalted, bends over with ten- 
 der interest, and views with intense and pe- 
 culiar regard ; that is, when the meek and pa- 
 tient sufferer, realizing the mighty One who 
 sends the dispensation, and receiving it as sent 
 in love and in mercy, bows under a sense Oi 
 the rectitude of all his doings, and says, in the 
 confidence of filial submission, " Not my will, 
 but thine be done." 
 
 THE END. 
 
 
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 UNIVERSITY OF CAIylFORNIA IvIBRARY 
 
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