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TRACTS
AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
General SeruB.
VOL. VIII.
PRINTED BY THE
AMEEICAN TRACT SOCIETY
150 NASSAXJ-STREET, NEW YORK.
CONTENTS.
VOL. VIII.
No. Pages.
255. Romanism Contradictory to the Bible. By Rev. Thomas
Hartwell Home, M. A., 40
256. Poor Swaizeland, 8
257. " Life from the Dead," 8
258. Three Queries to the Rejecters of Christianity. By Rev.
Andrew Fuller, 8
259. A View^ of the Evidences of Christianity. By J. Fletcher, 4
260. For Ever ! From Rev. Richard Baxter, .... 4
261. The Tap-root, 4
262. To those Commencing a Religious Life, .... 8
263. Indecision in Rehgion, ....... 8
264. George Lovell, 16
265. Duties of Church-Members. By Rev. Thos. H. Skinner, D. D., 16
266. Blind Betsey, or Comfort for the Afflicted, .... 8
267. " I am an Infidel," 4
268. To the Confident, the Diffident, and the Careless, . . 8
269. Shall I come to the Lord's Supper? .... 8
270. A Traveller at the End of her Journey. By Rev. Richard
Knill, 8
271. Prayer. By Rev. Seth Williston, 28
272. The Advantages of Sabbath-Schools, .... 16
273. The Lost Soul, 4
274. The Scotsman's Fireside, 8
275. The Amiable Louisa. From " The Young Christian," . 8
276. Bible Argument for Temperance. By Rev. Austin Dickinson, 12
277. The Eternal Misery of Hell. By Rev. James Saurin, . 8
278. Means of a Revival. By President Edwards, . . 8 ^
279. " What have I Done V By Rev. Wm. Nevins, D. D., . 12
280. Don't Unchain the Tiger, 4
4 CONTENTS.
No. Pages.
281. The Almost Christian. By Rev. H. A. Boardman, D. D., . 16
282. David Baldwin, or the Millers Son, .... 16
283. Alarm to the Careless, 8
284. Lydia Sturtevant, or the Fatal Resolution. By Rev. Eliakim
Phelps, D. D., 8
265. What is a Call to the Ministry ? By Rev. James D. Knowles, 20
286. Dying Testimony of Believers and Unbelievers. ByWm.C.
Brownlee, D. D., 32
287. The General's Widow. By W. C. Brownlee, D. D., . .32
288. Four Reasons against the Use of Alcoholic Liquors. By
John Gridley, M. D., . . . . . . .12
289. To a Lady in Fashionable Life, 8
290. The Bold Blasphemer, 8
291. Horrors of Heathenism, 16
292. Are you Ready] 4
293. Eliza, the Chippewa Indian, 8
294. Marks of Saving Faith. By Rev. J. Dickinson, . . 12
295. Marks of True Repentance. By Rev. J. Dickinson, 16
296. Mistakes of Parents. By Rev. John A. Vaughn, D. D., . 16
IVo. 253.
'ROMAIISM
CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE
BY REV. THOIUS HARTWELL HORNB, M.A,
AUTHOR OF THE INTRODUCTION TO THE BIBLE, ETC.
I. OF THE HOLY SCRIPTURES
1. The holy Scriptures are a complete rule of faith.
The divmely-inspired apostle Paul affirms that the holy
Scriptures "are able to make us wise unto salvation;" and
that " all Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is
profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for
instruction in righteousness, that the man of God may be
perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works." 2 Tim.
3: 15-17.
Now, if the "man of God," or Christian minister, who
is to instruct others, and to declare unto them the whole
counsel of God, so far as is necessary for their attainment
of salvation, be perfectly instructed for the discharge of his
high and responsible office from the Scriptures, these must
necessarily contain all saving truth, all that is needful to
be known by him, and by every private Christian, in order
to salvation. Compare Psalm 19:7, 8; Isaiah 8:20; 2
Peter, 1: 19-21 ; John 20: 31.
Conformably to these declarations, all Protestant
churches admit of no other rule of faith and practice than
the Scripture, " which containeth all things necessary to
salvation."
Further, the Scriptures prohibit all additions from being
made to them by any mortal. " Ye shall not add unto the
VOL. VIII. 1*"
2 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE.
word which I command you." Dent. 4 : 2. "Every word
of God is pure. Add thou not unto his word, lest he
reprove thee, and thou be found a har." Prov. 30 : 5, 6.
*' I testify unto every man that heareth the words of the
prophecy of this book, If any man shall add unto these, God
shall add unto him the plagues that are written in this
book." Rev. 22 : 18.
Agreeably to these declarations of holy writ, " whatso-
ever is not read therein, nor may be proved thereby, is not
to be required of any man that it should be believed as an
article of the faith, or be thought requisite or necessary to
salvation ;" nor has the church a right to enforce any thing
besides the Scriptures to be believed as necessary to salva-
tion.
But the Church of Rome, in direct contradiction to the
divine commands, equals unwritten traditions with the holy
Scriptures, and pronounces a curse on all that do not receive
those traditions. " I most steadfastly admit and embrace
the apostolical and ecclesiastical traditions, with the rest
of the constitutions and observations of the said church."
Creed of Pius lY,, Art. 13. "All saving truth is not con-
tained in the holy Scripture, but partly in the Scripture
and partly in unwritten traditions ; which whosoever doth
not receive, with like piety and reverence as he doth the
Scriptures, is accursed." Concil. Trident. Sess. 4. Decret.
de Can. Script.*
2. Canon of Scripture. " In the name of Scripture we
understand those canonical books of the Old Testament, of
whose authority there never was any doubt in the church."
But the Romish church makes the apocryphal books
of equal authority with those of the Old and New Testa-
ment, although such apocryphal books ivere never recognized
as canonical by the Jews, to whom were committed the
* The decisions of the Council of Trent, referred to here and
elsewhere in this Tract, are acknoAvledged as binding by every
true Roman Catholic.
ROM AM ISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 3
oracles of God, nor by the primitive church, nor by any
general council, nor by the modern Greek church. "If
any one doth not receive all these books," i. e. the apocry-
phal books, which are intermixed with the genuine and ca-
nonical books, " with every part of them, as they use to be
read in the [Roman] Catholic church, and as they are con-
tained in the ancient vulgar Latin edition, for holy and ca-
nonical, and shall knowingly contemn the aforesaid tradi-
tions, let him be anathema." Cone. Trid. Sess. 4, de Can.
Script.
It is worthy of observation, that, besides the above-
stated reasons why Protestants reject the apocryphal books,
these books clearly and manifestly evince that they never
were inspired, not only by the fabulous and contradictory
statements they contain, and which are directly at variance
with the canonical Scriptures, but also by the virtual ac-
knowledgments made by some of the authors of the apoc-
ryphal books, that they were not inspired. Thus, in the
prologue to the book of Ecclesiasticus, the son of Sirach
entreats the reader to pardon any errors he may have com-
mitted in translating the works of his grandfather Jesus
into Greek. In 1 Mace. 4 : 4G, and 9 : 27, it is confessed
that there was at that time no divinely-inspired prophet in
Israel ; consequently, the author of that book neither was
nor could be an inspired writer. The second book of Mac-
cabees, 2 : 33, is an avowed abridgment of the books of
Jason and Cyrene ; and the author concludes, 15 : 38, with
the following words, which are utterly unworthy of a per-
son writing by inspiration : " If I have done well, and as is
fitting the story, it is that which I desired ; but, if slenderly
and meanly, it is that which I could attain unto."
Fahulous statements in the Apoa-yphal books. 1. Rest of chap-
ters of Esther, 10 : 6. "A little fountain became a river, and there
was light, and the sun, and much water. This river is Esther,
whom the king married and made queen." 14 : 2.
2. The story of Bel and the Dragon is, confessedly, a mere
4 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE.
fiction, Avliich contradicts the account of Daniel's being cast into
the lion's den.
Contradictory statements. 1. The author of the book of the
Wisdom of Solomon alludes to the people of Israel, as being in
subjection to their enemies, which was not the case during Solo-
mon's reign. We read, indeed, that he had enemies in the per-
sons of Hadad, Rezon, and Jeroboam, 1 Kings, 11 : 14, 23, 25,
26, who vexed him ; but we nowhere find that they subdued his
people, and the schism of the ten tribes did not take place untU
after the death of Solomon.
2. Baruch is said, 1 : 2, to have been carried into Babylon at
the very time when Jeremiah tells us, 43 : 6, 7, that he was car-
ried into the land of Egypt.
3. The story in 1 Esdras, 3 : 4, besides wanting every mark of
the majesty and sanctity of the sacred writings, contradicts Ezra's
account of the return of the Jews from Babylon under Cyrus.
4. The first and second books of Maccabees contradict each
other ; for in the former, 1 Mace. 6 : 4-16, Antiochus Epiphanes
is said to have died in Babylon ; and in the latter he is represented,
Jirst, as having been slain by the priests at Nanea, in Persia, 2
Mace. 1 : 13-1 6, and afterwards, 9 : 28, as dying a miserable death
in a strange country among the mountains.
5. In the book of Tobit, the angel that is introduced, 5 : 12,
as representing himself as being a kinsman of Tobit, in 12: J 5,
contradicts himself, by affirming that he is Raphael, one of the
holy angels. The author of this book has also added to the views
of God and of Providence, delineated in the Old Testament, tenets
of Assyrian or Babylonian origin.
Contradictory doctrines. 1. Prayers for the dead. " And when
he had made a gathering throughout the company, to the sum
of two thousand drachms of silver, he sent it to Jerusalem, to
oflfer a sin-offering, doing therein very well and honestly ; for, if
he had not hoped that they that Avere slain should have risen
again, it had been superfluous and vain to pray for the dead."
2 Mace. 12 : 43, 44. This statement contradicts the whole tenor
of the sacred writings, which nowhere enjoin or allow of prayers
for the dead.
2. The heathen notion of the transmigration of souls, which is
equally contradictory to the Bible, is asserted in Wisd. 8:19, 20.
" For I was a Avitty cliild, and had a good spirit ; yea, rather, being
good, I came into a body undefiled."
ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 5
3. Justification by the tvorks of the law, in opposition to the
Scriptures, which teach that we are justified or accounted right-
eous only by faith, is taught in various parts of the apocryphal
books. " The just, which have many good works laid up with
thee, shall out of their own deeds receive reward." 2 Esdras,
3 : 33. " Prayer is good with fasting, and alms and righteous-
ness Alms doth deliver from death, and shall purge
away all sins. Those that exercise alms and righteousness shall
be filled with life." Tobit 12 : 8, 9. " Whoso honoreth his father,
maketh atonement for his sins." Ecclus. 3:3. " Alms maketh
an atonement for sins." 3 : 30. " To forsake unrighteousness is
a propitiation." 35 : 3.
4. Sinless perfection. " Riches are good unto him that hath
no sin." Ecclus. 13 : 24. But what say the Scriptures ? " There
is not a just man upon earth, that doeth good, and sinneth not."
Eccles. 7 : 20. " All have sinned, and come short of the glory
of God." Rom. 3 : 23. " If we say that we have no sin, we de-
ceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us." 1 John, 1 : 8.
Immoral practices commended in the apocryphal books, which
practices are prohibited in the Scriptures.
1. Lying. The instances already cited may also be adduced
here.
2. A desperate act of suicide — which is expressly forbidden in
Exod. 20 : 13, Thou shalt not kill—\B related in 2 Mace. 14 : 41-
46, as a manful act, and in terms of great commendation.
3. Jissassination, which is equally prohibited, is commended
in the book of Judith, 9 : 2-9, in the case of the Shechemites,
whose base murder is justly condemned in Gen. 49 : 7.
4. Magical incantations, which are forbidden in Levit. 19 : 26,
and Deut. 18: 10, 11, 14, are introduced in Tobit 6: 16, 17, as
given by the advice of an angel of God.
To the preceding instances, which are directly at variance
with the divinely inspired Scriptures, we may add, that in the
apocryphal books there are passages which are so inconsistent
with the relations of all other profane historians, that they cannot
be admitted without much greater evidence than belongs to these
books. Thus, 1 Mace. 8 : 16, it is said that the Romans " com-
mitted their government to one man every year, who ruled over all
that countiy, and that all were obedient to that one, and that
there was neither envy nor emulation among them."
This assertion is contradicted by evei-y Roman historian, with-
6 ROMAMSM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE.
out exception. The imperial government was not established
until more tlian a century after tlie time when the first book of
Maccabees was written. In like manner, the account, in Mace.
1 : 6, 7, of the death of Alexander, misnamed the Great, is not
supported by any of the historians who have recorded liis last
hours.
3. It is the duty of all to read the Scriptures. The
Scriptures, both by precept and example, represent it to be
the duty of all to read them. " Search the Scriptures,"
is the command of Jesus Christ. John 5 : 39. "I charge
you," says St. Paul, "that this epistle be read to all the
holy brethren." 1 Thess. 5: 27. Take unto you, he says
to the Ephesians, without exception, "the sword of the
Spirit, which is the word of God," Eph. 6 : 17 ; by which
we are enabled to repel the temptations and to resist the
assaults of the devil. See also Col. 3 : 16. The same
apostle addresses the first part of his Epistles, not to the
presbyters or bishops, but " to the churches of God, to
them that are sanctified in Christ Jesus, and to all that
call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ." See Rom.
1 : 7 ; 1 Cor. 1 : 2 ; 2 Cor. 1:1; Gal. 1:2; Eph. 1 : 1.
The apostle James, in like manner, addresses his Epistle
to the "twelve tribes that are scattered abroad," 1:1;
and Peter his first Epistle, 1 : 1, "to the strangers scattered
throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithy-
nia ;" and his second Epistle yet more generally, " to all
that have obtained like precious faith with us," 1 : 1 ; the
apostle John writes to fathers, young men, and children.
Now, what pretence can there be to hinder those persons
from reading the Epistles which were addressed to them ?
The Bereans are commended for their diligent searching of
the Scriptures. Acts 17 : 11. It was the duty of the
Jews to have the law in their houses, and to read it to their
children, Deut. 6 : 7-9; and much more must it be the
duty of all Christians to peruse the Gospel, since they live
under a greater and richer dispensation.
IIOMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 7
But the Churcli of Rome prohibits the reading of the
Scriptures by the common people, alleging that more prejvi-
dice than benefit would arise to them from such perusal —
Cone. Trid. Sess. 4, Decret. de Can. Scrip. — and makes it
peril for booksellers to deal in Bibles. In the 4th Rule of
the Index Librorum prohibitorum, it is thus enacted : " In-
asmuch as it is manifest from experience, that if the Holy
Bible, translated into the vulgar tongue, be indiscriminately
allowed to every one, the temerity of men will cause more
evil than good to arise from it" — with as much reason
might men be prohibited from eating or drinking, for fear
they should abuse that liberty — " it is on this point refer-
red to the judgment of the bishops or inquisitors, who may,
by the advice of the priest or the confessor, permit the
reading of the Bible, translated into the vulgar tongue by
Catholic authors, to those persons whose faith and piety,
they apprehend, will be augmented and not injured by it ;
and this permission they must have in writing. But if any
one shall have the 'pre8umi:)tion to read or possess it with-
out such written permission, lie shall not receive absolution
until he have first delivered up such Bible to the ordinary.
Booksellers who shall sell or otherwise dispose of Bibles in
the vulgar tongue to any person not having such permis-
sion, shall forfeit the value of the books, to be applied by
the bishop to some pious use, and shall be subjected to
such other penalties as the bishop shall judge proper. But
regulars shall neither read nor purchase such Bibles, with-
out a special license from their superiors."
Perfectly in unison with this decree is the Encyclical
Letter of Leo XII., dated May 3d, 1824, and addressed to
all patriarchs, primates, archbishops, and bishops. "We
also, venerable brethren, conformably to our apostolical duty,
exhort you diligently to occupy yourselves, by all means,
to turn away your flock from these deadly pastures''' — the
unadulterated Scriptures, translated into the vulgar tongue
and circulated by Protestants, which this " servant of the
8 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE.
servants of God" had just before termed a " Gospel of the
DeviV — " reprove, beseech, be instant in season and out
of season, in all patience and doctrine, that the faithful
entrusted to you, adhering strictly to the rules of our con-
gregation of the Index, be persuaded that if the sacred
Scriptures be everywhere indiscriminately published, more
evil than advantage will arise thence, on account of the
rashness of men."
It is no wonder that the Romish Church is so inveterate
against Christian people obeying the word of God, and
reading it. The new doctrines contained in the creed of
Pius IV. have no warrant in Scripture ; and the assembly at
Trent innovated in matters of faith, by setting up unwritten
tradition for a rule of it.
II. PRIVATE JUDGMENT IN MATTERS OF RELIGION— PRETENDED
INFALLIBILITY OF THE POPE.
1. The holy Scriptures invite and command inquiry.
''Prove all things," says St. Paul; ''hold fast that which
is good.". 1 Thess. 5 : 21. "Beloved, believe not every
spirit,"or teacher, "but try the spirits, whether they are of
God ; because many false prophets are gone out into the
world." 1 John, 4:1. How are we to do this, if we must
take all things upon trust, and without any examination
whatever ? "I speak as unto wise men ; judge ye what I
say." 1 Cor. 10 : 15. "Be ye ready always to give an
answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope
that is in you." 1 Pet. 3:15.
But how can Christians give such answer, unless they
understand and judge of the grounds of faith themselves ?
" Though we," says Paul, " or an angel from heaven, preach
any other Gospel to you than that which ye have received,
let him be accursed." Gal. 1 : 8. Which passage plainly
supposes that Christians may read, and can judge for them-
selves, when and what doctrines are contrary to the Gos-
pel, and that they ought to do it, and not blindly rely upon
any one — no, not an apostle, or an angel from heaven.
ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 9
In contradiction to these and many other texts of Scrip-
ture which might be produced, the Romish church claims
to be infalHble, and that it belongs to her to judge of the
sense of Scripture ; so that all persons are bound by her
judgment and decisions. Cone. Trid. Sess. 4, Decret. de
Edit, et Usu Libr. Sac. Catechism of the Council of Trent,
Creed, Art. 9, § 19, p. 96, Lond. 1687. And in the Creed
of Pius lY., Art. 14, every Romanist thus declares : "I
also receive the holy Scriptures according to that sense
which the holy mother church — to whom it belongs to
judge of the true sense and interpretation of the holy
Scripture — did, and doth hold. Nor will I ever take and
interpret it otherwise than according to the unanimous con-
sent of the Fathers."
2. Pretended infallibility of the Poi^e. The papal
claim to infallibility has no foundation in Scripture, reason,
or antiquity. Romanists, it is well known, are not agreed
among themselves where this pretended infallibility exists ;
whether in the pope, or in a general council, or in the
diffusive body of Christians. Both pojjes and general
councils have notoriously contradicted one another ; and
therefore neither of them can be infallible. To mention
only a few instances. Gregory, surnamed the Great,
about the latter end of the sixth century, declared that
whoever should claim the universal episcoimte would be
the forerunner of antichrist. Epist. lib. 6, ep. 30. Yet
this very universal episcopate was assumed, three or four
years afterwards, by Boniface III., and has been subse-
quently claimed by numerous pontiffs who have sat in what
they are pleased to call the chair of St, Peter. Pope Six-
tus Y., in 1590, pubhshed an edition of the Latin Yulgate,
which, by a bull, he commanded should be received every-
where, and in all cases, for true, legitimate, authentic, and
undoubted ; and that all future editions should be made
conformable to tliis, not the least syllable being changed,
added, or omitted, on pain of the greater excommunication.
VOL. VIII. 2
10 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE.
Notwitlistanding all bis infallibility, Clement YIII., not very
long after, revoked tbe decree of Sixtus, siqjpressed bis edi-
tion, and piiblisbed anotber of bis own, in whicb he made
more tban 2,000 corrections.
These fatal variances between editions alike promulgated by
pontifTs claiming infallibility, have been exposed by various Prot-
estant divines. Thomas James, in his " Bellum Papale, sive Con-
cordia Discors Sixti V.," Londonini, 1600, 4to, has pointed out
very numerous additions, omissions, co>'tradictions, and other
differences between the editions of the two infallible pontiffs, Six-
tus V. and Clement VIII. Specimens of these contradictions may
be seen in the author's Introduction to the Critical Study and
Knowledge of the Holy Scriptures, vol. 2.
This pretended infallibility is supposed to proceed from
the Holy Ghost ; but how could the Holy Ghost dwell in
the hearts of some of those pontiffs who have -vrorn the
triple crown ? The popes and Saints Eleutherius and Vic-
tor both sanctioned the heresy of the Montanists : under
Dioclesian's persecution, Saint Marcellus denied the faith
of Christ and sacrificed to idols at tbe prospect of imme-
diate death. "He lived," we are told, " to repent of bis
momentary departure from the faith ; but his case affords
another remarkable example of tbe supposed infallible suc-
cession." Liberius, who had been deposed for his ortho-
doxy, in order to regain his see, subscribed an Arian formu-
lary of faith, which Hilary, Bishop of Aries, designates " a
blasphemous creeds"
" In looking upon Liberius as a frail and erring mortal, sorely
tempted and beset, banished from home, friends, and country, we
pause before we pass a severe sentence upon him, remembering
that, Avere we equally tempted, our faith might have failed like his.
But when we view him as an infallible pontiff, we are obliged
to look upon his conduct in anotlier light ; and, while we commis-
erate the frailty of tlie man, to adduce it as a proof of the un-
founded nature of those claims, which rest on the supposition of
an unerring succession of infallible guides. . . . The historians
arid those strenuous advocates of papal infallibility, Baronius and
Bellarmine, appear verj' desirous of soflening down, as much as
ROMANlSftI COiNTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. H
possible, this uncompromising circumstance, conscious no doubt
that, if admitted to the full extent, it would completely invalidate
the pretension of freedom from doctrinal error in the successors of
Saint Peter. Bellarmine, finding the subject too difficult even for
his Jesuitical skill, sums up his arguments by remarking, that,
however these things may be, Liberius neither taught heresy,
NOR was a heretic, but merely sinned in the outward act. But
these palliating attempts are vain. ' St. Hilary, bishop of Poic-
tiers. Op. pp. 1158, 1134-1137, speaks of this papal lapse, of v/hich
he was an eye-witness, very plainly and openly ; not being very
anxious, it seems, to screen the infaUihle chair.^ His language is
very strong. 'I anathematize thee, O Liberius, thee and thy com-
panions ; again I anathematize thee ; and for the third time, I say
unto thee, O Liberius, that thou art a prevaricator.' And, among
other very strong tenns employed, he designates the creed signed
by Liberius ' a blasphemous creed.' The same testimony is borne
by St. Jerome, Chron. ad. ann. ; and indeed the papal historian
Dupin, Eccl. Hist., vol. 2, p. 63, acknowledges that all the ancient
authors speak of the fall of Liberius as the approbation of the
heresy of the Arians." Keary's View of Papal and Concilian In-
fallibility, pp. 18-20.
Saint Felix, the successor of Liberius, was also an
Arian. Saint Zosimus openly favored the heresy of Pala-
gius and Celestius. Vigilius, who favored the Servian her-
esy, a branch of that broached by Eutyclies, obtained the
see of Rome by bribery ; banished the bishop who had
been canonically elected, and who, on the evidence oi forged
letters, had been accused of corresponding with the hostile
Goths ; and Vigilius changed his opinions only four times.
Honorius I. determined in favor of the Monothelite heresy,
and condemned, as heretical, the opinion of the orthodox
bishops. John XII. who, at the early age of sixteen, with-
out having been in holy orders, or indeed capable of ordi-
nation, was placed in St. Peter's chair by his father Alberic,
a Roman consul — this ''monster of iniquity," as Cardinal
Baronius terms him, was convicted of simony, perjury, sac-
rilege, murder, and blasphemy, and deposed by the emperor
Otho, who appointed Leo VIII. in his room. Resuming
12 ROIMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE.
his dignity by means of an armed force, John assembled a
council of his supporters, and, in the fulness of papal
power, disannulled all that had been enacted against him.
While the emperor was preparing to make an example of
the miquitaus but infallible prelate, he fell a sacrifice to the
vengeance of a dishonored husband. John XVIII. was a
layman; and his successor, Boniface IX., Avho at the age
of ten years purchased the papacy, after ten years of profli-
gacy, rapine, and murders, was forcibly and ignominiously
expelled by the Romans ; and after a temporary resumption
of his dignity, finding the hatred of the people on the point
of bursting forth again to violent measures, sold the right
and title to infallibility to the ignorant and unlettered Greg-
ory VI. John XXIII. w^as utterly destitute of all princi-
ples, both of religion and probity ; and, after purchasing
the cardinalate, 2^oisoned his predecessor, Alexander V.
This infallible pontiff w^as deposed for his various crimes.
Alexander VI. disgraced his dignity by his ambition, ava-
rice, cruelties, and debaucheries ; and, by a righteous reac-
tion of divine Providence, died, having by mistake taken
that poison which he had prepared for some cardinals whom
he had invited to an entertainment. Not to dwell on other
crimes which have disgraced the occupants of the holy see,
numerous popes and antipopes have reigned at various
times, all of them claiming to be infallible, and anathema-
tizing their antagonists. For a full exposure of the un-
founded claims to infalhbility, the reader is referred to the
Rev. W. Keary's Historical Review of Papal and Conciliar
Infallibihty, London, 1826, 12mo, from w^hich the preced-
ing statement is abridged, and which is supported in all its
details by the authorities of Romanist historians.
Ill CLAIMS OF THE ROMISH CHURCH TO SUPREMACY.
Jesus Christ prohibited all disputes concerning rank and
preeminency in his kingdom. " Ye know," he said, '' that
the princes of the Gentiles exercise dominion over them.
ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. I3
and they that are great exercise authority upon them. But
it shall NOT he so among you : but whosoever will be great
among you, let him be your minister ; and whosoever will
be chief among you, let him be your servant : even as the
Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minis-
ter, and to give his life a ransom for many." Matt. 20.
Paul, addressing the Ephesians, says, " Ye are built upon
the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ
himself being the chief corner-stone." Eph. 2 : 20. It will
be observed that the apostles and prophets are here put
in the same rank, and are all equally called foundations.
To Jesus Christ alone belongs the preeminence.
But the Church of Rome claims to be the supreme mis-
tress of all churches, and arrogates to the popes a primacy
of dominion. " I acknowledge the Holy Catholic Apostohc
Roman Church to be the mother and mistress of all churches ;
and I promise to swear true obedience to the pope of Rome,
who is the successor of St. Peter, the prince of the apostles,
and vicar of Jesus Christ." Creed of Pius IV., Art. 23,
Catechism. Roman., Part L, de Symb. Art. 9, § 15.
The Romish church is not the mother and mistress of
all churches : the mother church was the church at Jerusa-
lem, which was formed immediately after the ascension of
Christ; next, was formed the church at Samaria, Acts 8,
A. D. 34 ; and then, the churches in Cyprus and Phcenice,
and at Antioch, by those Christians who were dispersed in
consequence of the persecution that arose about Stephen.
Acts 11 : 19-21. There is no evidence Avhatever that the
church at Rome was founded by Peter, as the Romanists
affirm, or by the joint labors of Peter and Paul. In the
first council held at N'ice, all other Christian churches were
on an equality with that at Rome ; and in the fourth gene-
ral council, that convened at Chalcedon, it was declared,
that the church at Constantinople should have equal honors
with that at Rome, because the seat of imperial govern-
ment was there. Catholic, that is, universal, the Romish
VOL. VIII 2*
14 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE.
church NEVER TVAS, NOR IS ; for ecclesiastical history attests
that both the Asiatic and African churches formerly rejected
her authority ; and also that the Eastern churches to this
day despise her pride and affectation of supremacy. And
a simple inspection of the map of the globe will prove, that
the Romish church is by no means universal. Over the
united churches of England and Ireland, Rome can have
no authority ; for the churches of England and of Ireland
ivere more ancient than the 'pope's supremacy : they were
free churches from the first planting of Christianity among
the ancient Britons and Irish ; and whatever oppressions
those churches suffered from papal intrusions, fraud, and
violence, their natural freedom remained unaltered, and that
freedom is justly maintained. The fiction of papal suprem-
acy is unsupported by Scripture, and is a novelty of the
seventh century. See Bishop Burgess' Protestant's Cate-
chism, where all these topics are unanswerably proved.
IV. OBJECTS AND MANNER OF WORSHIP.
1. Objects of ivorship). The Scriptures expressly affirm
that God alone is the proper object of our worship. " Thou
shalt ivorship) the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou
serve." Matt. 4 : 10. "It is written," saith Jesus Christ,
and therefore it must refer to Deut. 6 : 13, "Thou shalt
fear the Lord thy God, and serve him ;" and again, Deut.
10: 20, "Him shalt thou serve, and to him shalt thou
cleave ;" that is. Him only shalt thou serve, and to him
only shalt thou cleave in the way of divine worship ; for so
our infallible Instructor interprets it. Matt. 4 : 10 : "Thou
shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him onlyT In all
these passages, God, and God alone, is the proper object
of our devout worship.
Further, the Scripture says that Jesus Christ is our
ONLY Mediator and Advocate with God, and the only foun-
dation of our salvation. " There is one God, and one Me-
diator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus, who
ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 15
gave himself a ransom for all." 1 Tim. 2 : 5, 6. "If any
man sin, we have an Advocate ivith the Father, Jesus Christ
the righteous ; and he is the propitiation for our sins, and
not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world."
1 John, 2:1,2. '' IS'either is there salvation in any other ;
for there is none other name under heaven given among
men, whereby we must be saved." Acts 4:12. *' Other
foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus
Christ." 1 Cor. 3:11.
The Romish church, on the contrary, admits the merits
and intercession of the Virgin Mary and of the saints. " I
also beheve that the saints, who reign with Christ, are to
be worship2>ed and prayed to ; and that their relics are to
be venerated." Creed of Pius IV., Art. 20. See also
Cone. Trid. Sess. 25, de Invocat. Catechism. Roman., part
3, ch. 2. The saints in the Romish church are almost
numberless : the lives of the saints, published by the Bol-
landists, fill only ffty -four massive folio volumes, which do
not come lower than the month of October ; and the little
hagiography of Mr. Alban Butler extends through twelve
closely-printed octavo volumes.
To evade the charge of idolatry, some writers of the Romish
church have recourse to a superior worship of God, which they
call Latria, and an inferior worship, by them termed Dulia, and
which they pay to the saints, to images, and to the cross. But
there is no foundation for this distinction ; for, not to urge what
we shall soon proceed to show, that all worship of images and of
every thing else, God alone excepted, is most expressly forbidden
in the holy Scriptures :
" 1. The nature of religious worship ivill not admit of such nice
distinctions. It is plain, from our Lord's answer to the devil, that
he did not consider there were different degrees of religious wor-
ship, or that any but God might be worshipped in any way or
manner. The devil required from him no more than the papists
give to saints and images — ' Fall down and worship me ' — and
our Lord's refusal, saying, that God alone is to be served, must be
understood to determine, that no degree of religious worship is to
be given to any creature whatsoever.
16 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE-
" 2. The Scriptures mention no such distinction. Nothing is
there said of an inferior degree of worship fit to be offered to saints
or angels. An angel refused any kind of worship from St John.
* I fell down to worship before the feet of the angel which showed
me these things ; then saith he unto me, See thou do it not, for I
am thy fellow-servant Worship God.' Rev. 19 : 10, and
22 : 9. Yet it is evident that the church of Rome commands its
members to do the very thing that St. John was directed not to do.
When Cornelius the centurion fell down at St. Peter's feet and
worshipped him, the apostle forbade him, saying, ' Stand up, I
also am a man.'
" 3. The common people neither understand nor observe this dis-
tinction. This is confessed by one of their own writers. ' The
manner in which the church invokes the saints cannot be accounted
idolatry, although the ignorant people have carried the abuse
almost as far as idolatry, either in considering the saints as the
authors of the favors they ask, or in placing more confidence in
their mediation than even in that of Jesus Christ ; or, finally, in
persuading themselves that, independently of a good life, the
merits and intercessions of the saints might enable them to obtain
salvation.' " See the History of the Council of Trent, translated
into French by Father Le Courayer. Hamilton's Tracts on some
leading EiTors of the Church of Rome, pp. 33, 34.
By whatever modified appellation Romanists may designate
the worship they pay to images, its practical tendency on the
minds of the lower orders must be collected from the effect it pro-
duces in those countries where the religion of the church of Rome
is tlie only one of which they have any notion. In the Christian
Examiner, for February, 1827, there is an account of tlie corona-
tion of the image of the Virgin Mary of the Immaculate Concep-
tion, in the church of Gesu Vecchio, in the city of Naples, so lately
as the 30th of December, 1826. The account, with its illustrative
remarks, is too long to admit of insertion in this place. It must,
therefore, suffice to state, tliat " when the crown was placed on the
head of the infant Jesus, there was a general movement; but when
she," the image of the virgin, " was crowned, the lower orders
could no longer contain themselves ; and the shouts of the men,
the cries, the outstretched imploring hands, the tears and convul-
sive shrieks of the women, showed how vehemently and pro-
foundly they adored the virgin, and Avorshipped her image."
After the coronation, the archbishop of Naples, and priests, pro-
ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 17
nounced certain sentences and responses, in which the unlimited
power of the virgin over all. nature was unhesitatingly proclaimed
in phrases almost scriptural.
4. The doctors of the Romish church are not agreed concerning
the distinction between Latna, or supreme ivorship, and Dulia^ or
inferior worship.
" Many Avriters in that church deny that there is any difference
between the two words, and admit ' that it is one and the same
virtue of religion which containeth them both. If some say that
it is idolatry and mortal sin to give Latria to a saint or image,
vv^hich ought only to receive Didia, and if others tell you that these
words signify the same thing, let a man do what he will, he incurs
the guilt of idolatry, in the opinion either of the one or the other
of these parties.'
" If the papists excuse themselves from the charge of idolatry,
by making a distinction between two different kinds of religious
worship, which the nature of the thing does not admit of, which
the Bible nowhere mentions, which the common people cannot
understand, and concerning which their own doctors have dis-
puted, the Protestants have a good excuse for not worshipping
saints or images." Hamilton's Tracts, pp. 34, 35.
Among these reputed saints, some few there are whose
praise is, and ever will be, deservedly in the Christian
church : such, for instance, as were distinguished instru-
ments of diffusing the knowledge of the Gospel while here
on earth ; and these, we doubt not, are now shining with a
glory like the sun in the kingdom of our Father in heaven.
But others there are, enrolled in the catalogue of saints, who
never had any existence but that "which is assigned to them
in the legends of the Romish church, which legends have
no foundation whatever in authentic history, civil or eccle-
siastical ; and these accounts are so romantic, that one would
imagine that no sensible Romanist could ever believe there
were such persons. Witness the gigantic Saint Christo-
pher, who is fabled to have carried Christ across an arm of
the sea ; Saint Amphibolius, who was only the cloak of
Alban, the reputed protomartyr of England ; Saint Lon-
ginus, the Roman soldier who thrust the spear into Christ's
18 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE.
body upon the cross ; Saint George ; Saint Ursula, with
her eleven thousand virgin martyrs, of whom no traces are
to be found in history. Others again, who are exalted to
the character of saints ' by the Romish church, one would
think, could be thus promoted for nothing but their folly.
The great Saint Francis, according to their own accounts,
may justly be suspected of wanting common sense, as well
as common decency. His throwing away his clothes, and
runninof about stark naked, was such a freak that he ouo-ht
either to have been publicly chastised for his impudence, or
confined for lunacy ; and his preaching to birds and beasts,
and talking to them as fellow- creatures, was an act equally
stupid and ridiculous. Preservative against Popery, vol. 2,
tit. 6, p. 322.
Others, however, of these reputed saints were noto-
rious SINNERS, who have left only such remembrances of
them as must raise the just indignation of every pious and
virtuous mind. Such, to specify a few only of the most
notorious, were Saint Gregory YII., better known by the
name of Hildebrand, whose whole life was one unceasing
and unprincipled effort to realize the universal dominion of
the world, which he claimed as an appendage to the see of
Rome, and against whose canonization every government in
communion with Rome exclaimed, so that he is worshipped
only in Ireland and in Italy. Dr. Philpott's Supplemental
Letter to Mr. Butler, pp. 145, 147. Saint Thomas a Becket,
a rebel to his king, and a traitor to his country, Avho, having
solemnly promised to obey the laws of England, deliber-
ately \dolated his promise and his allegiance, Henry's Hist,
of Engl., vol. 5, p. 344 ; for which saintly virtues he was
canonized, and became in a manner the idol of this part of
the world for nearly two hundred years, so that in one year,
A. D. 1420, not fewer than fifty thousand foreigners came in
pilgrimage to visit the tomb of this j^e^ji^ ret? man, "■ for whose
martyrdom," the Roman Missal for the use of the Laity, p.
85, London edit., 1815, says, ''the angels rejoice."
ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 19
"About fifty years after Becket's death, it was the subject of
a public dispute at the university of Paris, whether Becket was
in heaven or hell, so ambiguous a point Avas his sanctity. Some
asserted that, for his extreme pride, he deserved to be damned :
others, on the contrary, maintained that the miracles wrought at
his tomb were undoubted proofs of his salvation. This last argu-
ment indeed would have been unanswerable, if these miracles
were as evidently proved as industriously spread.
" He had deserved too well in the court of Rome not to have
a place in the catalogue of the saints He was there-
fore canonized two or three years after his death. However de-
sirous the pope was to show his gratitude to the memory of so
faithful a servant, the world must first be convinced that the cause
he died in was approved by God; otherwise his canonization
might have been objected against. Nothing was more proper to
infuse this belief into the minds of the people than miracles ; ac-
cordingly, such multitudes were forthwith wrought at the tomb of
the new martyr, tliat, in any other age, the number of these mira-
cles, instead of satisfying the world, would have had a quite con-
trary effect. Neither Christ nor his apostles worked the like, or
so many, to prove the truth of Christianity, as this nev/ saint did
to authorize the privileges and immunities of the clergy. It was
not thought sufficient to assert his restoring dead men to life, but
it was farther affirmed he raised the very beasts. It was given
out for certain, that being exposed to vieAv in the church before
he was buried, he rose out of his coffin, and went and lighted the
wax-candles which had been put out. It is said, also, after the
funeral ceremony was over, he held up his hand to bless tlie people.
To all these miracles, many others are added, equally unbecoming
the majesty of God. Meanwhile they were spread with that con-
fidence, that not a man was found hardy enough to show the least
sign of doubt. The pope's legates, sent some time after to exam-
ine these matters, found the people at Canterbury so persuaded
of the truth of all these facts, that, upon such public evidence, his
holiness thought he should run no great hazard in canonizing
Becket, by the name of St. Thomas of Canterbury. The tomb of
the new saint was first adorned with few ornaments ; but, fifty
years after his death, his body was laid in a shrine, enriched with
a prodigious quantity of precious stones. As a farther honor to
his memory, the pope ordered every fiftieth year a jubilee to be
solemnized in the church where he lay. From thenceforward,
20 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE.
miracles became so common at his tomb, and their fame spread so
far, that they drew votaries from all parts of Christendom, who
came to Canterbury to obtain tlie intercession of this new saint.
In 1420, they kept an account of above fifty thousand foreigners,
of all ages and sexes, that came in pilgrimage that year to this
renowned tomb." Rapin's Hist of Eng., vol. 1, pp. 232, 233, folio
edition.
Saint Plus V., who, besides burning more heretics
(Christians) than almost any of his predecessors, not only
issued a bull of excommunication against Queen Elizabeth,
depriving her of her crown, but also excited her Romanist
subjects to rebellion, and supplied some of them with
money to carry on their traitorous designs.
'' The invocation of saints and of the Virgin Mary is
contrary to the practice of antiquity : it was first introduced
by Petrus Gnapheus, a presbyter of Bithynia, afterwards
bishop of Antioch, about A. D. 470, and it was first
received into the public litanies about one hundred and fifty
years after." In the sixth century only were temples first
erected in honor of the saints ; and it was not until the
latter end of the ninth century that the Roman pontiffs
impiously arrogated to themselves the power of raising dead
sinful mortals to the dignity of saints, and constituted them
objects of worship, whose prayers and merits procure heav-
enly blessings, and by whose hands they are conveyed.
" The invocation of saints is contrary to reason ; for how
can they hear prayers ? God alone is the object of all the
worship and veneration which are due to an invisible being."
It is equally contrary to Scripture ; for " the dead Icnow
not any thing," that is, as the context shows, they know
not any thing of the affairs of this Avorld. " Their love, and
their envy, and their hatred, is perished : neither have they
any more a portion for ever in any thing that is done under
the sun." Eccl. 9 : 5, 6. Townsend's Accusations of His-
tory against the Church of Rome, p. 103.
Image-ioorship is absolutely and universally prohibited
in Scripture. '' Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven
ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 21
image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above,
or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under
the earth. Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor
serve them." Exod. 20 : 4, 5 ; Deut. 4 : 15, 16; Acts
IV : 29; 1 John, 5 : 21.
But the Romish church declares that " it is laivful to
represent God and the Holy Trinity by images ; and that
the images and relics of Christ and the saints are to he duly
honored, venerated, or luorshipped ; and that in this venera-
tion and worship, those are venerated which are represented
by them." Cone. Trid. Sess. 25, de Invocat. Catech., Part
3, ch. 2. Pius lYth's creed runs thus: "I most firmly
assert that the images of Christ and of the mother of God,
who was always a virgin, are to be had and retained ; and
that due honor and worship is to be given to them." The
worship thus enjoined consists in kissing images, uncovering
the head of them, offering incense, bowing, and making
prayers to them. The adoration of the host and of the
cross are two notorious instances of idolatrous worship.
2. Manner of worship. Under the Jewish dispensation
Jerusalem was the place, and the temple was the house, in
which were the symbols of the Divine presence, and thither
all Jews were bound to resort three times in the year to
offer their prayers and sacrifices to God : but the Gospel
teaches us that there is now no such symbolical presence of
the Almighty in one place more than in another ; for the
Divine presence is no longer confined to any one place, but
he equally accepts the worship Avhich is devoutly offered to
him throughout the world. " The hour cometh," said Jesus
Christ to the woman of Samaria, " when ye shall neither in
this place, nor yet at Jerusalem, Avorship the Father
The hour cometh, and now is, when the true Avorshippers
shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth : for the
Father seeketh such to Avorship him." John 4 : 21, 23.
On another occasion he said, " Where tAvo or three are gath-
ered too-ether in mA^ name, there am I in the midst of them."
VOL. A''TTT. 3
22 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE.
Matt. 18 : 20. *' I will therefore," says Paul, 1 Tim. 2 : 8,
"that men pray everywhere, without wrath and doubting "
of God's acceptance of our supphcations.
But in the church of Rome it is reputed a great act of
devotion to go in pilgrimages, to visit the shrines of partic-
ular saints and relics. Cardinal Bellarmine, quoting the
decree of the Council of Trent, Sess. 25, expressly affirms,
that it is a work of piety to go on pilgrimages to holy places.
De Cult. Sacr. lib. 3, c. 8. Among the inducements held
out in the bull for the jubilee in 1825, to persuade persons
to go to Rome, was that of beholding the cradle of Christ !
" Can any man of reflection," it has been truly asked,
'' admit that the pope himself believes that the cradle of
Christ is to be seen at Rome ? and if not, what is the
pope?"
2. The Scriptures teach us that divine service ought
to be performed in a language that is intelligible to the
people.
" He that speaketh in an unknown tongue, speaketh not
imto men, but unto God : for no man understandeth him.
If I come unto you," says St. Paul, " speaking with tongues,
what shall I profit you, except I shall speak to you either
by revelation, or by knowledge, or by prophesying, or by
doctrine ? For if I pray in an unknown tongue, my spirit
prayeth, but my understanding is unfruitful. Else, when
thou shalt bless with the spirit, how shall he that occupieth
the room of the unlearned say Amen at thy giving of thanks,
seeing he understandeth not what thou sayest ? In
the church I had rather speak five words with my under-
standing, that by my voice I might teach others also, than
ten thousand words in an unknown tongue." I Cor. 14 : 2,
6, 14, 16, 19.
But in the Romish church mass is celebrated, and many
other acts of religious worship are performed in Latin, a
language which is unintelligible to the people, and with
numberless ceremonies, some of heathen orio-in, for wliich
ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. *2d
there is no foundation whatever in Scripture ; and the Coun-
cil of Trent, acting as it repeatedly affirmed, under the
guidance of the Holy Spirit, denounces an anathema against
any one who presumes to say any thing to the contrary.
Cone. Trid. Sess. 22, de Sacrificio Missee, cap. 8.
V. THE COMPLETE ATONEMENT OF CHRIST CONTRADICTED BY
THE CHURCH OF ROME.
The ScrijHure teaches that, by his one oblation of him-
self upon the cross, Jesus Christ has made a full, perfect,
and sufficient atonement ; and that, since he hath expiated
our sins by his blood, there is no need of any other sacrifice.
*' If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father,
Jesus Christ the righteous : and he is the 2^ropitlation for om'
sins ; and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the
whole world." 1 John, 3 : 1, 2. " Christ hath redeertied
us from the curse of the law." Gal. 3 : 13. " Christ being
come a High-Priest of good things to come . . .he entered
in once into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemp-
tion for us." Heb. 9:12. '' Once in the end of the world
hath he appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of him-
self." Heb. 9 : 26. "By one offering he hath perfected
for ever them that are sanctified." Heb. 10 : 14.
But the Bomish church daily renews the sacrifice of
Jesus Christ in the celebration of the mass; and teaches
" that in the mass is offered to God a true, proper, and pro-
pitiatory sacrifice for the quick," or living, *'and dead,"
Creed of Pius IV., Art. 17. " If any one say, that in the
mass there is not a true and proper sacrifice offered unto
God ; or, that to be offered is nothing else but for Christ to
be given to us to eat, let him be anathema." Cone. Trid.
Sess. 22, de Sacrificio Missoe, Can. 1. This sacrifice of the
mass, as it is called, not only contradicts the two passages
above cited, but is also destructive of all the arguments
contained in the seventh, eighth, and ninth chapters of the
Epistle to the Hebrews.
24 ROMAXISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE.
VL OF JUSTIFICATION AND THE PARDON OF SIN.
1. The Scripture declares that "there is no man that
sinneth not," 1 Kings, 8:46; that " the whole world heth in
wickedness," 1 John, 5 : 19 ; that "the Lord looked down
from heaven upon the children of men, to see if there were
any that did understand and seek after God. They are all
gone aside, they are all together become filthy ; there is none
that doeth good, no, not one. All have sinned, and come
short of the glory of God." Psalm 14:2, 3 ; Rom. 3 : 10-
18, 23. "All we, like sheep, have gone astray." Isaiah
53 : 6. But the Council of Trent declares "that it is not
their intention to comprehend the blessed and unspotted
Virgin Mary, the mother of God, in this decree, where it
treats of original sin." Cone. Trid. Sess. 5.
2. The Scriiytiire asserts that we are justified, or ac-
counted righteous before God, only for the merit of our
Lord Jesus. Christ, through faith, and not meritoriously by
our own works.
" The righteousness of God is hj faith of Jesus Christ
unto all, and upon all them that believe ; for there is no
difierence : for all have sinned, and come short of the glory
of God ; being justified freely by his grace, through the
redemption that is in Christ Jesus. Where is boasting then ?
It is excluded. By what law ? Of works ? Nay ; but by
the law of faith. Therefore we conclude, that a man is jus-
tified by faith without the deeds of the law." Rom. 3:22-
24, 27, 28. "By grace are ye saved, through /ae77i ; and
that not of yourselves : it is the gift of God : not of works,
lest any man should boast." Eph. 2 : 8, 9. Consequently,
there can be no such thing as merit in any thing that we
can say or do. "When," says our Saviour, "ye shall have
done all those things which are commanded you, say. We
are unprofitable servants." Luke 17 : 10.
But the Council of Trent teaches, that the good w^orks
of justified persons are truly and properly meritorious, and
ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 25
fully worthy of eternal life, by denouncing an anathema
against all who hold a contrary doctrine ! Cone. Trid. Sess.
6, cap. 16, can. 32.
Vn. OF THE SACRAMENTS.
1. dumber of the sacraments. Jesus Christ instituted
only two sacraments : namely, Baptism, " Go ye, and teach
all nations, haptizing them," etc.. Matt. 28 : 19 ; and the
Lord's Supper. See Luke 26 : 19, 20, and the parallel
passages.
But the Romish church teaches, that " there are truly
and properly seven sacraments of the new law instituted by
our Lord Jesus Christ, and are necessary to the salvation
of mankind," although all the sacraments are not necessary
to every person, " namely. Baptism, Confirmation, the Lord's
Supper, Penance, Extreme Unction, Orders, and Matrimo-
ny," Creed of Pius IV., Art. 15 ; and the Council of Trent
denounces a curse against any who say that these " were
not all instituted by Christ, or that there are more or fewer
than seven, or that" any of the seven is not truly and prop-
erly a sacrament. Sess. 1, can. 1. Peter Lombard, a
writer of the twelfth century, was the first who reckons
seven sacraments, adding to Baptism and the Lord's Sup-
per these five, namely, Confiimation, Penance, Orders, Mat-
rimony, and the Extreme Unction. Pope Eugenius lY.,
about the middle of the fifteenth century, pronounced that
these five, as well as the other two, ought to be considered
as sacraments ; and in the following century the Council of
Trent and Pope Pius IV. declared them to be equally sac-
raments. Consequently, not one of these five were or could
have been constituted sacraments by Jesus Christ ; though
the Council of Trent has been pleased to assert the contrary.
2. Of communion in both kinds. The Scripture teaches
us, that Jesus Christ instituted the communion in both
kinds, that is, bread and wine, and so commanded that it
should be celebrated. " Jesus took bread, and blessed it,
VOL. VIII. 3*
26 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE.
and gave it to the disciples, and said, ' Take, eat ; this is' —
represents, according to the oriental idiom — 'my body.'
And he took the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it them,
saying, * Drink ye all of it ; for this is,' represents, ' my blood
of the new testament.' " Matt. 26 : 26-28.
But the church of Rome has changed what Christ ap-
pointed, and has deprived the laity of the cup; and has
anathematized any who say, " that from the command of
God, and the necessity of salvation, all and every believer
in Christ ought to receive both kinds of the most holy
sacrament of the eucharist." Cone. Trid. Sess. 21, can.
1. ''I do also confess, that under either kind or species
only, whole and entire, Christ and the true sacrament is
received." Creed of Pius IV., Art. 18. The Council of
Constance, held in the year 1416, was the first that sac-
rilegiously deprived the laity of the cup in the sacrament,
in direct contradiction to Christ's command, and the prac-
tice of the primitive church. The testimonies of the fathers
and ecclesiastical writers, for thirteen or fourteen hundred
years, are collected by Bishop Beveridge on the Articles.
Art. 30.
The Scripture teaches us that the consecrated bread
and wine are the communion of the body and blood of
Christ. " The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the
communion of the blood of Christ ? The bread which we
break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ ?"
1 Cor. 10 : 16.
But the Romish church affirms, that " in the most holy
sacrament of the eucharist there is really and substantially
the body and blood, together with the soul and divinity of
our Lord Jesus Christ ; and that there is a conversion of
the whole substance of the bread into his body, and of the
whole substance of the wine into his blood, which conver-
sion the" Roman ''Catholic church calls transubstantia-
tionr Creed of Pius IV., Art. 17.
This term was not invented until the thirteenth century :
ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 27
the first idea of Christ's bodily presence in the eiicharist
was started in the beginning- of the eighth century ; the first
writer who maintained the doctrine was Paschasius Rad-
bertus, in the ninth century, before it was firmly establish-
ed ; and the first public assertion of it was at the third
Lateran Council, in the year 1215, after it had been for
some time avowed by the popes, and in obedience to their
injunctions inculcated by the clergy. But the term tran-
substantiation was not known until the thirteenth century,
when it was invented by Stephen, Bishop of Autun. *' This
doctrine of transubstantiation subverts the very foundation
on which the credibility of the Christian religion is built,
viz., our Saviour's miracles ; and not only does it contradict
the Scripture, which says that we eat bread after the con-
secration of it, 1 Cor. 11 : 27, but it is also contrary to
reason, which teaches that the same body cannot be in two
places at the same time ; and it is contrary to the report
which our senses make about their proper objects. So that
transubstantiation contams many gross falsehoods, and is
incredible to all who consult the word of God, their own
reason, and common sense." On this subject, consult
Archbishop Tillotson's discourse against Transubstantiation.
Vm. OF MARRIAGE.
" Marriage," the Scripture declares, " is honorable in all,
and the bed undefiled." Heb. 13 : 4. ''To avoid fornica-
tion, let every man have his own wife, and every woman
her own husband." 1 Cor. 7 : 2. These precepts are
spoken universally ; and no exception is made of the clergy,
or ministers of the Gospel : nor can any one show that God
hath excepted priests or monks. See also 1 Tim. 3 : 2, 4,
5, 12 ; Tit. 1:6. In the prediction of the great apostasy
from the pure faith of the Gospel, St. Paul enumerates the
''forbidding to marry" as one of the criteria of which the
Holy " Spirit speaketh expressly." 1 Tim. 4:1,3.
In opposition to the divine commands, the Council of
28 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE.
Trent decrees that the " clergy may not marry T Sess. 24,
can. 9. "Siricius, who died A. D. 399, was the first pope
who forbade the marriage of the clergy ; but it is probable
that this prohibition was but little regarded, as the celibacy
of the clergy seems not to have been completely establish-
ed till the papacy of Gregory YII., at the end of the elev-
enth century ; and even then it was complained of by many
writers." Bishop Tomline's Elem. of Christ. Theol., vol.
2, p. 520.
The sinrii of popery remains the same. The Romish
clergy are, to this day, forbidden to marry ; and the evils
resulting from this prohibition have been often and ably set
forth.
IX. OF PURGATORY AND INDULGENCES.
1. The Scripture declares that "it 'is appointed unto
men once to die, but after this the judgment," Heb. 9:27:
and in 1 Sam. 25 : 29; Matt. 7 : 13, 14; 8 : 11, 12, and
Luke 16 : 22, 23, mention is made only of a two-fold re-
ceptacle of souls after death. The penitent thief was to be
that day in 'paradise, Yivk^ 23 : 43 ; *' and it is the uni-
form declaration of the Scriptures, that all sins are forgiven
upon our own repentance, through faith and trust in the
atonement."
In direct contradiction to the Bible, the Council of Trent
affirms, that 'Hhere is a purgatory, or place of torment
after this life, for the expiation of the sins of good men
which are not sufficiently purged here ; and that the souls
there detained are helped by the masses, prayers, alms, and
other good works of the living." Cone. Trid. Sess. 6, Can.
30 ; Sess. 25, Decret. de Purgat. The practice of praying
for the dead began in the third century ; but purgatory was
not even mentioned until long after. It w^as at first doubt-
fully received, and was not fully established until the papa-
cy of Gregory, in the beginning of the seventh century.
2. The holy Scriptures declare, that it is the preroga-
ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 29
live of tlie infinite and almighty God alone to forgive sins,
Psalm 130 : 4 ; Isa. 43 : 25 ; 44 : 22 ; Jer. 50 : 20 ; Mark
2:7; Luke 5:21; Eph. 4:32; and that " when we have
done all those things which are commanded us, we are
unprofitable servants." Luke 17 : 10.
But the pope of Rome, a finite and sinful creature,
claims the power of pardoning sins, and of granting indul-
gences, which are defined to be a remission of the temporal
punishment due to sin by the decree of God. when its guilt
and eternal punishment are remitted, and which may con-
sist either of evil in this life, or of temporal suffering in the
next — which temporal suffermg is called purgatory. It is
made an article of faith in the creed of Pius IV., " that the
power of indulgences tvas left hy Christ to his church ; and
that the use of them is very helpful to Christian p>eopley
Art. 22.
The Romish doctrine of indulgences is built upon the
false foundation of purgatory, and the supererogations of
the saints ; that is, their satisfying over and above what is
needful for themselves and their own sins ; so that their
satisfactions may serve for others who want them, or wiio
have not enough of their own. That this doctrine has no
foundation in the Bible, and consequently was not instituted
by Jesus Christ, is acknowledged by some of the most
learned Romanists themselves. See Bishop Taylor's Dis-
suasive from Popery, part 1, ch. 1. sect. 3. It is a fact,
well attested in ecclesiastical history, that the power of
granting indulgences was not claimed by the popes before
the twelfth century, consequently it never was or could
have been left by Christ to his church. It is also well
known, that the profligate sale of indulgences by Leo X. led
to the glorious Reformation, of which, under God, Luther
was a distinguished instrument. Not to repeat earlier tes-
timonies, it will be seen by the following extract from the
bull of Leo XII., for the Jubilee of 1825, dated Rome,
May 24, 1824, that the popes still usurp the prerogative
30 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE.
of Almighty God, in granting remission of sins. ''During
this year of Jubilee, we mercifully in the Lord grant and
impart the most 'plenary and complete indulgence, remission,
and pardon of all their sins, to all the faithful in Christ, of
both sexes, who are truly penitent and have confessed, and
who have refreshed themselves with the holy communion ;
provided, if Romans or inhabitants of the city, they shall
have devoutly visited these churches of the city, that of
the blessed Peter and Paul, of St. John Lateran, and of St.
Mary Maggiore," or the greater, "at least once a day for
thirty days, whether successive or interrupted, natural or
even ecclesiastical ; but if foreigners, or in any other respect
strangers, they must have devoutly visited these churches
at least fifteen days : provided also, that they shall have
poured forth pious prayers to God for the exaltation of the
holy church, the extirpation of heresies, the concord of
catholic princes, and the salvation and tranquillity of Chris-
tendom."
It is curious to see how the clause for the extirpation of
heresies appears in the " Directions and Instructions, ad-
dressed to all the faithful in the London district, published
by the R. R., the vicars apostolic." In the fourth condition
required for gaining the Jubilee, p. 22, is the visiting of
certain churches and offering up prayers " for the exaltation
of the holy Catholic church throughout the world ; for
hringing hack all straying souls to the ways of unity and
truth ; for the peace and concord of Christian princes ; and
for the general welfare of all Christian people, both for time
and eternity." Query. Did his holiness, "the sovereign
pontiff," in his bull, dated Dec. 25, 1825, for extending the
jubilee, soften the original language above cited, in order to
accommodate himself to the genius of Englishmen? Or
w^as the clause for the extirp)ation of heresies differently
translated, lest it should offend better educated members of
the Romish church in the London district ?
That indulgences have been sold since the +ime of Leo
ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 31
X. for the commission of the most profligate crimes, has
been proved by the unimpeachable testimony of Romish
writers ; and that they have been sold, and the proceeds
thereof apphed in aid of rebellion against the lawful sove-
reign of Great Britain and Ireland, the follomng anecdote
from the history of the sister island will sufficiently attest.
From the evidence communicated before a committee of the
Irish parliament by father John Hennesy, it appears that
his holiness, Pope Benedict XIII., in compliance with the
request of the Romish archbishops and bishops of Ireland,
who had conspired with others of the Romish communion
to exterminate King George II. and the royal family, and
to place the Pretender on the throne, issued his bull to fa-
cilitate their ^:>/o?^5 intention, and sent them an indulgence
for ten years, in order to raise a sum of money to be speed-
ily applied to restore James III. to his right. This bull
further enjoined "that ever}^ communicant confessing and
receiving upon the patron days of every respective parish,
and any Sunday, from the first of May to September, hav-
ing repeated the Lord's prayer five times, and once the
apostle's creed, upon paying two-iKnce each time, was to
have a lylenary indulgence for all their sins^ Under this
holy bull it appears that the sum of fifteen hundred pounds
sterling was ready to be remitted to the Pretender's agent
in Flanders at the time the treasonable conspiracy was de-
tected by the vigilance of the Irish government.
The testimonies of Romanist wi-iters to the sale of indulgences
may be seen in the Rev. Dr. Philpott's Letters to Mr. Butler, pp.
151-153; or in Dr. Hales' Analysis of Chronology, vol. 2, part
2, p. 1019-1022 ; and especially in " Taxatio Papalis ; being an
Account of the Tax-Books of tlie United Church and Court of
Modern Rome." London, 1825, 8vo. That the scandalous traffic
in indulgences has been carried on in later times, Avill be evident
from the following facts.
" In the year 1709, a Bristol privateer captured a vessel from
Spain, on her passage to America, which had on board upwards
of three millions of these bulls of indulgence, which were to be
32 ROMA.MSM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE.
sold to tlie people in America, at various prices, from 20 pence
for the poor, so high as £11 for the rich; and Captain Dampier
told Bishop Burnet that they Avere so numerous that his sailors
used them in careening the ship.
" In the year 1800, a Spanish ship from Europe was captured
near the coast of South America by Admiral Har\'ey, then captain
of the Southampton frigate. There were on board large bales of
paper, valued in her books at £7,500. It was a matter of surprise
to him to see them rated so high, and to hear the master of the
captured vessel speak of them with great admiration : he exam-
ined them, and found tliem all filled with large sheets of paper,
printed, some in Spanish, and some in Latin, but all sealed with
the seals of the ecclesiastical courts in Spain or at Rome. These
were indulgences or pardons for various sins mentioned in the
Catholic rubric, and the price, which varied from half a dollar to
seven dollars, was marked upon each. They had been bought in
Spain, and ivere intended for sale in South America. At Tortola,
some Dutch merchants bought the whole for £*200, with the hope
of being able to smuggle tliem among the Spaniards in America."
Hamilton's Tracts, p. 68.
X. OF AURICULAR CONFESSION.
Auricular confession to a priest in private, required by
the Council of Trent, and the catechism of the Romish
church, is very different from the open, general, and public
confession, which all Christians receive and practice. It is
contrary to Scripture. James 5:16, upon which passage
the custom has been principally enforced, refers only to
confession in the miraculous cases of sickness, which were
inflicted as temporal punishments in the days of the apos-
tles. It is contrary to reason, that confession to a man
should be demanded as the condition of the forgiveness of sin.
Though, in some instances, the conscience may be relieved
by confessing great crimes, and the penitent is commanded
to confess his faults to those against whom he has offended,
he is not commanded to confess to the priest, as an indispen-
sable condition of the forgiveness of God. How contrary
this antiscriptural tenet is to morality, and how it has been
made subservient to plotting, propagating, and carrying on
ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 33
treasonable propositions and designs, may be seen at length
in Bishop Taylor's Dissuasive from Popery, part 2., book
1., sec. 11.
XI. DEPOSING POWER OF THE POPE.
The concluding article of Pius IVth's creed runs thus :
" I also, without doubt, receive and profess all other things
delivered, defined, and declared by the sacred canons and
general councils, and especially by the holy Council of Trent;
and all things contrary to them, with all heresies rejected
and cursed by the chiu-ch, I likewise reject, condemn, and
curse."
Among these "sacred canons," to omit those of the
Popes Boniface VIII. and Innocent III., cited at length by
the Rev. Dr. Philpott, in his Letters to Mr. Butler, pp.
278-281, the following of the third and fourth Lateran
councils are particularly worthy of notice.
The third Lateran council, which levelled its decree
against those who were variously denominated Cathari,
Patarenes, or publicans, in Gascony, the vicinity of Thou-
louse, and other regions, subjects to a curse both themselves,
their defenders, and harborers ; and also, under a curse,
prohibits all persons from admitting them into their houses,
or receiving them upon their lands, or cherishing them, or
exercising any trade with them. It further confiscates their
goods, and freely permits princes to reduce them to slavery ;
and relaxes two years of enjoined penance to those faithful
Christians, who, by the counsel of their bishops, shall take
up arms against them, to subdue them by fighting against
them. Labbei Concilia, tom. 10, p. 1522. The sixteenth
decree of the same council prescribes that '' oaths ivhich
contravene the utilitij of the church, and the constitutions of
the holy fathers, are not to he called oaths, hut rather f:erj\j-
RIES."
The fourth Lateran council is even more precise in its
denunciations. " Let secular powers, whatever ofiice they
VOL. VIII. ^
34 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE.
execute, be admonished, persuaded, and, if necessary, com-
pelled BY ECCLESIASTICAL CENSURE, that, as they desire to
be reputed and accounted faithful, so they would publicly
take an oath for the defence of the faith," that is, the dog-
mas of the Romish church, " that they would endeavor in
good faith, according to their power, to destroy all heretics
marl-ed hy the church, out of the lands of their jurisdiction.
But if the temporal prince, being admonished and required,
shall neglect to purge his land from this heretical filthiness,
HE SHALL BE excommimicatcd by the bishops of the p)rovince :
and, if he shall refuse to give satisfaction within a year, let
it be signified to the pope, that he may forthwith denounce
his vassals absolved from their allegiance, and expose his
land to be possessed by Catholics, who, having destroyed the
heretics, may possess it without contradiction, and preserve it
in the purity of the faith, saving the right of the principal
lord, whilst that he doth make no hinderance to it. Never-
theless, the same law is to be observed towards them who
have no principal lord." Labbei Concilia, tom. 11, part 1,
p. 148, can. 3, de Heereticis.
It is, undeniably, the doctrine of the Romish church,
that a general council, Avhen convened and approved of by
the pope, is empowered to pass laws binding for ever on its
members ; and since these laws, as they maintain, emanate
from infalhble authority, they are deemed equally binding
with the divinely-inspired Scriptures. Now, the decrees of
these two councils bear the impress of this authoritative
sanction : they were confirmed by the then reigning pontiffs,
and ratified by the Council of Trent ; they have never been
abrogated, and by the above-cited article of Pius IV. this
creed was made an article of implicit belief. The pages of
history sufficiently record the manner in which the deposi-
tions of sovereign princes, and the extermination of heretics,
have been conducted by the " holy Catholic" pseudo " apos-
tolic Roman church." To state the principal instances as
briefly as possible :
ROMANISiM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 35
Saint Gregory VII. twice anathematized and deposed
the emperor Henry IV. In 1116 the emperor Henry V.
was deposed by Paschal II. ; John, king of England, by
Innocent III. in 1210, and Raymond, count of Thoulouse,
by the same pontiff, in 1215 ; the emperor Frederick II. by
Innocent IV. in 1245; Peter, king of Arragon, by Martin
IV. in 1283 ; Matthew, duke of Milan, in 1322, and Lewis
of Bavaria, in 1324, by John XXII. ; Barnabas, duke of
Milan, by Urban V. in 1363 ; Alphonzo, king of Arragon,
in 1425, by Martin V. ; the king of Navarre, by Julius II.
in 1512; Henry VIII. king of England, by Paul III. in
1538 ; Henry III. of France, in 1583, by Sixtus V., who,
on hearing of this monarch's assassination by friar Jacques
Clement, declared that the murderer's fervent zeal towards
God surpassed that of Judith and Eleazar, and that the as-
sassination was effected by Providence ! In 1591, Gregory
XIV., and in the following year the uncanonically elected
pope Clement VII., issued bulls of deposition against Hen-
ry IV. king of France, whose life was first attempted by
John Chastel, a Jesuit, then by a monk, and finally he was
stabbed by Ravaillac. In 1569 Saint Pius V. deposed
Queen Elizabeth, whose Romanist subjects he stimulated to
rebel against her, and furnished some of them with money
to aid their nefarious attempts : and bulls of deposition were
fulminated against that illustrious queen, by Gregory XIII.
in 1580, Sixtus V. in 1587, and Clement VIII. in 1600.
Sixtus v., in his bull, styled her an usurper, a heretic, and
an excommunicate ; gave her throne to Philip II. of Spain,
and commanded the Enghsh to join the Spaniards in de-
throning her. Clement VIII,, in 1600, issued a bull to
prevent James I. ascending the throne of England, declar-
ing that " when it should happen that that miserable wo-
man," Queen Elizabeth, " should die, they," her subjects,
" should admit none to the crown, though ever so nearly
allied to it by blood, except they would not only tolerate
the " Roman " Catholic religion, but promote it to the ut-
36 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE.
most of tlieir power ; and would, according to ancient cus-
tom, undertake upon oath to perform the same." In 1643,
Urban VIII. issued a bull of deposition against Charles I.
in Ireland ; where, two years before, not fewer than 100,000
Protestants were massacred ; and to those who had joined
the rebellion of 1641, the same holy pontiff granted 2i plen-
ary indulgence. In 1*729, Benedict XIII., at the instance of
the Romanist Irish prelates, issued a bull to dethrone George
II. king of England, with an indulgence, as we have above
seen, for raising money to support the Pretender. In 1768,
Clement XIII. published a brief, on occasion of certain
edicts issued by the duke of Parma and Placentia, in his
own dominions ; wherein the pontiff, in the plenitude of his
usurped authority, abrogated, repealed, and annulled, as
being prejudicial to the liberty, immunity, and jurisdiction
of the church, whatever the duke had ordered in his edicts,
?indi forbade his subjects to obey their sovereign; further de-
priving all, who had either published or.obeyed the edicts,
of all their privileges, and incapacitating them from receiv-
ing absolution, until they should fully and entirely have
restored matters to their former condition, or should have
made suitable satisfaction to the church, and to the holy
see. In 1800, the late pope Pius VII. announced his elec-
tion to the pontificate to Louis XVIII. as the lawful king
of France ; and in the following year he exhibited a most
edifying instance of ^;«^ja? diqylicity, when it suited his
interest, by entering into a concordat with Bonaparte, in
wiiich, besides suppressing 146 episcopal and metropolitan
sees, and dismissing their bishops and metropolitans without
any form of judicature, he absolved all Frenchmen from
their oaths of allegiance to their legitimate sovereign, and
authorized an oath of allegiance to the first consul; and
when Louis XVIII. sent his ambassador to Rome to present
his credentials, the pontiff refused to receive him. With
marvellous infallibility, however, not quite eight years after,
the same pontiff issued a bull, in June 1809, excommunicat-
ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 37
ing Bonaparte and all who adhered to him in his invasion
of the papal states ; in which bull he makes the same ex-
travagant pretensions to supreme power which had been
put forth by Saint Gregory VII., Innocent III., and other
pontiffs.
One more instance may suffice to show the continuance
not only of the papal pretensions to interfere with the tem-
poral interests of mankind, but also of the readiness with
which those pretensions are asserted whenever an opportu-
nity presents itself. The secularization of certain German
churches and chapters, in 1803, by the diet of Augsburg,
which distributed some of them as indemnities to secular
Protestant princes, gave occasion to many despatches from
Rome, in the years 1803, 1804, and 1805, and particularly
to an instruction to the papal nuncio resident at Vienna, in
1805, in which Pius VII. says, that the church had not
only taken care to prohibit heretics from confiscating eccle-
siastical possessions, but that she had moreover established,
as the 'penalty of the crime of heresy, the confiscation and the
loss of all proper tij possessed by heretics. This penalty, as
far as concerns the property of private individuals, is de-
creed, he says, by a bull of Innocent III., cap. Vergentes
X. de Haereticis ; and, as far as concerns sovereignties and
fiefs, it is a rule of the canon law, cap. Absolutus XVI. de
Haereticis, that the subjects of a prince, manifestly heretical,
are released from all obligation to him, dispensed from all
allegiance and all homage. " To be sure," his holiness goes
on to say, " we are fallen into such calamitous times, that
it is not possible for the spouse of Jesus Christ to practise,
nor even expedient for her to recall her holy maxims of just
rigor against the enemies of the faith ; but, although she
cannot exercise her right of deposing heretics from their
lyrincipalities, and declaring them deprived of their property,
yet can she for one moment allow that they should rob
her of her property to aggrandize and enrich themselves ?
What an object of derision would she become to heretics
VOL. VIII. 4*
38 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE.
and infidels, who, in mocking her grief, ^\'^uld say that they
had found out a way of making her tolerant.'' Essai His-
torique sur la Puissance Temporale des Papes, torn. 2,
p. 320.
That Leo XII. did not relinquish his pretended right to
extirpate heresies, is sufficiently intelhgible from the extract
from his bull for the jubilee given above, to Avhich it may
be added, that in the " Catechism for the Curates, composed
by the decree of the Council of Trent, and published by
command of Pope Pius V., faithfully translated into Eng-
lish 2^^rmissu siqjerioricm,'' it is expressly taught that " the
heretics and schismatics, because they have fallen off from
the church, nor do they belong [do not belong] to the
church any more than vagabonds or renegadoes belong to
an army from which they ran away : yet it is not to be
denied but that they are in the j^oiuer of the church, as those
who may be judged by her and condemned tvith an anath-
ema.'' P. 90, London edit. 1687. And in the class-book,
taught in the Romanist college at Maynooth, which is sup-
ported by the bounty of the British parliament to the annual
amount of £8,978, see the Act 7, Geo. lY., c. 79, § 11,
the candidates for orders in the Romish church in Ireland
are taught that "The church retains its j^ower over all her-
etics, apostates, and schismatics, though they may no longer
belong to its body ; as a general may have a right to inflict
punishment on a deserter, though his name is no longer on
the muster-roll of the army." Tract de Theologia, ch. 8
de Membris, p. 404, cited in the Digest of Parliamentary
Evidence, Part 1, p. 125.
XII. NO FAITH TO BE KEPT WITH HERETICS.
The doctrine that no faith is to he 'kept ivith heretics, was
established by the Council of Constance : and history abun-
dantly testifies how religiously the iniquitous decree of that
council has been observed. Not to insist upon the numer-
ous plots and conspiracies against the reformed religion in
ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 39
Great Britain, from its establishment to the memorable gun-
powder conspiracy, and the Irish conspiracy in 1*729 ; wit-
ness the martyrdom of John Huss, wlio, though he had a
safe conduct from the emi-)eror Sigismund, guaranteeing his
free access to the Council of Constance, and his free return
from it, was nevertheless* imprisoned there; and, after a
process on a charge of heresy, was condemned and burnt to
death, in violation of every law, human and divine. Witness
the massacre of St. Bartholomew, in 1572, when 500 Prot-
estant gentlemen, and 10,000 of the lower classes, were
assassinated at Paris, and not fewer than 40,000 in the prov-
inces ; at which pious tidings, Gregory XIII. was so over-
joyed that he commanded a discharge of artillery to be
made, ordered the cardinals to return solemn thanks to
Almighty God, and caused a medal to be struck in honor
of the unprincipled transaction. Witness also the massacre
of 1641, in Ireland, where, as in France, sixty-nine years
before, no ties of nature or of friendship could prevent pa-
pists from embruing their hands in the blood of their near-
est Protestant relations. To these instances may be added
the unprincipled revocation of the sacred and irrevocable
edict of Nantes, by Louis XIV., against the faith of the most
solemn treaties, in consequence of which the Protestant
churches were desti'oyed throughout France ; the soldiers
committed the most scandalous excesses ; and after the loss
of innumerable lives, 50,000 of the most valuable and indus-
trious of the citizens of France were forced into exile. Once
more, in 1712, when by virtue of the treaty of Alt-Rastadt
certain places were to be surrendered to some Protestant
princes, Pope Clement XI., in a letter to the Emperor
Charles VI., denounced the Protestants as " an execrable
sect," and in the plenitude of his pretended supremacy
declared that every thing, which either was or could be
construed or esteemed to be in any way obstructive of, or
in the least degree prejudicial to, the Romish faith or wor-
sliip, or to the authority, juiisdiction, or any rights of the
40 ROMAMSM CO^■TRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE.
church whatsoever, " to be, and to have been, and perpet-
ually to remain hereafter null, unjust, reprobated, void, and
evacuated of all force from the beginning ; and that no per-
son is bound to the observance of them, although the same
have been repeated, ratified, or secured hy oathy Digest
of Evidence on the State of Ireland, Part 2, p. 243.
Such are the dogmas of the church of Rome, and such
has been her practice for many centuries. Individuals of
hiofh character, belonoinsf to her communion, have disclaimed
them ; but they remain unrescinded by the united church
and court of modern Rome. These doctrines — the contra-
riety of which to Scripture, reason, and in many instances,
to morality, cannot but have powerfully struck the reader's
mind — have been promulgated by popes, councils, and can-
onists : they must be rescinded by the same authorities
before Protestants can consent to give up those securities
upon which their civil and rehgious liberties depend. Have
we any concern for jDure and undefiled religion, for the lib-
erties of our country, and for the welfare of our children
and posterity ? Let us then stand fast in the liberty where-
with Christ has made us free ; and " let the word of Christ,''
and not human traditions, " dw^ell in us richly in all wisdom."
Col. 3 : 16. "For other foundation can no man lay than
that is laid, which is Jesus Christ.'' 1 Cor. 3:11. "We
have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty ; not walk-
ing in craftiness, nor handlmg the w^ord of God deceitfully ;
but, by manifestation of the truth, commending ourselves to
every man's conscience in the sight of God." 2 Cor. 4 : 2.
** If any man teach otherwise, and consent not to wholesome
words, even the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, and to the
doctrine which is according to godliness, from such with-
draw thyself" 1 Tim. 6 : 3, 5.
IVo. S36,
POOR SWAIZELAND.
AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE.
BY A CLERGYMAN.
In the month of December, 1817, as I was on a visit at
the house of a lady in Kent, England, her daughter request-
ed that I would accompany her to visit a man who had met
with a serious accident.
I walked with her to a little cottage on Eowly-Common,
in a room of which a poor young man was lying, under what
appeared to me almost the extremity of human suffering.
He was a mason, and had been precipitated from a scafibld-
ing about twenty feet high. He was grievously mutilated
by the fall ; both his legs were broken, and several of his
ribs, and his spine was so greatly injured that from the pit
of his stomach to his feet he appeared perfectly dead, and
insensible to pain.
2 POOR SVVAIZELAND.
When I saw him he had been a year in this condition ;
but though his bones had been set, the injury in his spine
precluded the possibility of his moving to turn in his bed,
or of remaining on his side, if placed there by his attend-
ant ; so that, being obliged to lie continually on his back, it
had, in some places, at different times, become very sore
and painful. He was dependent on charity for subsistence,
and had been placed in this cottage, with an old woman to
attend him. When I saw him he was pale and emaciated ;
but he did not complain of bodily pain : the anguish of his
body seemed lost in that of his mind.
He had been a profligate ; and the conviction of his
guilt, the apprehension of God's wrath, and the dread of
approaching judgment, seemed to absorb every feeling of
his heart. He said he felt as if God were holding him over
the pit of hell, and he did not know the moment when he
Avould let him drop ; that he had been trying to prepare
himself to die, and make his peace with God, but felt whol-
ly unable to do so ; that he had made many promises and
resolutions to lead a different life, if God would raise him
up ; but that he should never rise from his bed, and these
promises would be of no avail to him.
I endeavored to explain to him, that while he failed of
going to Christ for pardon, he was setting about the work
of making his peace with God in a very false way ; that all
his resolutions of amendment in his external conduct would
be vain, without the aids of divine grace ; that if he were
even restored to health, and could put them fully into prac-
tice, they would be of no avail to give peace to his con-
science, or salvation to his soul. I endeavored to show him,
from the Scriptui'es, that the work which he was vainly la-
boring to do, in his own strength, had been finished for the
chief of sinners, by Him who died upon the cross.
I endeavored, in various ways, to illustrate this, and to
show him, that the effort to appease the wrath of his of-
fended God, by any resolutions, or any righteousness of his
own, would be as vain as those of a poor mutilated, bed-
POOR SWAIZELAND. 3
ridden pauper, to earn money to discharge a debt of a thou-
sand pounds. I told him that the Lord Jesus had paid the
mighty debt for those who beheve in Mm, and who could
never hope to discharge it themselves ; that he had, by his
righteousness, fulfilled that holy law of God, which we have
broken ; that he had, by his precious death upon the cross,
stood in our place, and borne our curse ; and that the mes-
sage which he commanded his ministers to proclaim to sin-
ners, was a message of free and full pardon. That, instead
of vainly attempting to work out a righteousness of their own,
perishing sinners should " look imto him and be saved ;" that,
having died for them, they might be delivered from every
terror of death, of judgment, and of hell, and be saved by
his merits ; that therefore I came to him with these " good-
tidings of great joy :" that, though he had been wicked,
and profligate, and \ile, yet the Gospel declares, that " the
blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin ;" that, " though
our sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow ; though
they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool."
The poor man listened to these, and many similar truths,
with deep anxiety, but I could not perceive that he seemed
either fully to understand, or derive from them that conso-
lation which they are calculated to give. I kneeled by him,
and prayed 4;hat the Holy Spirit would teach him to under-
stand and rest upon this hope set before him, and then
bade him farewell.
The next day I visited him, and found him in the same
state of mind ; I read to him, and endeavored to set the
same truths again before him, as plainly and simply as I
could. I prayed with him again, but again left him without
any perceptible change in his feelings.
The third day Lis countenance wore the same rueful
aspect, both when I entered and when I left the room.
But on the fourth morning, as soon as I opened the
door of his room, a very different scene presented itself. He
seemed to have been awaiting my arrival with anxiety — his
countenance was illuminated with a smile of peace, and
4 POOR SWAIZELAND.
hope, and joy — and before I could even ask him how he
Avas, he burst out, as soon as he saw me,
" 0, sir, now I understand all you have been saying to
me. When I was thinking over it this morning, it came into
my mind at once — if he has died for us — if he has paid our
debt — then we have not to pay it oiu'selves — we may de-
pend on him and rejoice."
" Yes, my dear friend," said I, " that is indeed the glo-
rious truth of the Gospel ; he has died for us, and we may
rest on him and be at peace."
I then opened the Scriptures, and began to read the
fifth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans : "■ Therefore be-
ing justified by faith, we have peace with God, through our
Lord Jesus Christ."
" Oh yes, sir," said he, " that's true, so we have ; now
I understand it."
I went on — " By whom also Tve have access, by faith,
into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the
glory of God."
" 0 yes, sir," said he, '' that's true, we do ; we do re-
joice, sir, and so we may rejoice, since he has paid our debt,
and done all for us."
I went on through a great portion of the chapter, and
it was wonderful to see how this poor man, to whom, the
day before, the Bible was a sealed book, who had listened
with attention, indeed, and anxiety, but without compre-
hending the truths that were read to him, seemed now to
have an intuitive perception of the spiritual import of the
whole ; and instead of requiring a comment from me, could
give me a practical, and a most instructive comment on al-
most every word I read.
The knowledge of Jesus, as the hope and refuge of the
sinner's soul, is, indeed, the key of the Bible. Like the
sun arising on a world of darkness, it pours its light on all
that was unseen before. It was this that enabled this poor,
unlettered man, not only to understand, but to comment on
the Scripture as he went along.
POOR SWAIZELAND.
For about a month after this I visited him, read to him,
and conversed and prayed with him, ahnost every day. I
never saw another cloud upon his brow, nor heard another
expression of the fear of death or hell from his hps : the
triumphant passages of the Psalms, and of the prophets,
were now the natural expressions of his feelings ; and I can
truly say, that, during all that time, I rather derived in-
struction from seeing the power of the Gospel so practi-
cally applied to cheer and enlighten and support a fellow-
sinner, under the deep distress of poverty and bodily an-
guish, than conveyed to him increasing edification, by any
thing that I could say.
I took one day two young boys, the sons of noblemen,
to see him, with the hope of making some impression on
their minds. I told him who they were. I mentioned the
rank and *-iches of their families. I asked him, in their
presence, whether he would exchange his poverty, his pain,'
and the prospect of suffering and death that was before him,
for their health and strength, and the titles and riches of
their fathers, without that blessed hope which cheered and
comforted his heart. He smiled at my question, and as his
head and arms were the only parts of his body he could
move, he shook his head, and assured them he would not
make the exchange, with an emphasis which, in his circum-
stances, poured more contempt on all that the world could
give, compared with the glorious hope of the everlasting-
Gospel, than all the studied eloquence the pulpit ever could
command.
I was then obliged to leave that part of the country ;
but after about two months I went down into Kent, and
found him in the same happy frame of mind. He told me,
that no doubt or fear, concerning the all-sufficiency of his
adorable Redeemer, had crossed his mind ; he still continued
to go on his way rejoicing, though his bodily sufferings were
just as when I had seen him before. I read and prayed
with him, and read over several hymns, which before had
criven him particular pleasure ; and having stayed with him
VOL. vni. -3
6 POOR SWAIZELAND.
as long as time permitted, I bade him farewell, thinking
that a very few weeks would bring him to the haven of
eternal rest.
In the course of previous conversations, he had told me
the various struggles of his mind, in the efforts he had made
by his various resolutions to obtain peace of conscience, and
satisfy his offended God for sin.
A person who had visited him, had told him that he
ought to feel very sorry for his sins, and endeavor by sin-
cere contrition to obtain the favor of God ; but without
pointing him to the sacrifice of Christ, and faith in his blood,
as his only hope.
" I often strove," said he, '' to feel very sorry ; but when
I thought I had got myself to be very much grieved for my
offences, I found my heart going back, and taking as much
pleasure in them as ever. This gentleman," said he, " also
advised me to receive the sacrament, as a means of making
my peace Avith God ; but I would not do it." An expres-
sion which he made use of on this occasion, evinced great
ignorance of that sacred ordinance ; and I endeavored to ex-
plain to him the nature of it : that it was given by our Lord
to those who believe on him, for a continual remembrance
of his great salvation, that he had died for them, and fin-
ished all their transgressions ; but that, when used as a sub-
stitute for Christ and his salvation, as if it could atone for
our offences, it ceased to be an ordinance of true religion,
and was turned, by such a perversion, into an idolatrous
superstition.
When I bade him farewell, on our last interview, he ex-
pressed what pleasure he had lost, after my departure from
Kent, in not having any person to read the Bible to him ;
for the old woman who attended him read so very imper-
fectly, that he could hardly understand her, and he himself
unhappily had never learned.
I cheered him, however, with the reflection, that though
he could not read, he could pray ; and that the promise of
Christ was not, " He that readeth shall be saved," but, " He
POOR SWAIZELAXD. 7
that helieveth shall be saved." Bidding him farewell, I set
out soon after for Ireland. This was in March, 1818.
In December of that year, I engaged a friend to visit
the cottage of my poor brother, to inquire whether he had
entered into rest, or that he might cheer and comfort his
heart, with the communion of one who rejoiced in the same
salvation. He found him still living ; still lying on his back,
in the same spot on which I had left him ; still rejoicing in
his Lord, and drawing water out of the wells of salvation.
He had, in the interval from the preceding March, learned
his letters, learned to spell, and learned to read his Bible.
I thought this was the last account I should ever hear
of poor Swaizeland ; but in April, 1821, I went to London,
and soon after to Kent, to visit my friend. It was on Thurs-
day, and, at a miller's cottage on the heath, I Avas informed
that on the day but one before, he had entered into his ever-
lasting rest.
Havinor learned, that the old woman who had attended
him, lived in a cottage just beside the mill, I mquired of her
concerning him,
" Wlien I went to him first," said she, '' he was such an
impatient, wicked-tempered man, that it was impossible to
live with him ; but a gentleman came to read the Bible to
him, for some days, and after that he became like a child,
so that it grieved my heart to leave him."
The old lady did not recognize me, but her testimony is
of great value, to show that the Gospel of Jesus, Avhen sim-
ply received into the heart, is not only the power of God
unto salvation, but also transforms the vilest character, and
turns him, who had before been a servant of Satan, into a
son and servant of the living God.
We went on to the cottage where his remains were ly-
ing ; the door was opened by his sister, who had, for some
time, attended him ; she was a widow, with five children.
I asked her for her brother.
She told me he was dead.
" How did he die ?" said I.
8 POOR BWAIZELAND.
" In great peace with God, sir," said she.
" What gave him that peace ?" I asked.
" Oh, sir," she said, " he depended on the blood of the
Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ."
" Well," said I, " how can that give peace ?"
*' Oh, sir," said she, smiling, and expressing herself with
joyful confidence, '' surely, if a person depends on Jesus, he
may die very happy."
" And pray, my friend," said I, " who taught you this?"
" Oh, sir," she replied, " it was my dear brother, who
is gone."
She then expressed the joy that she felt at having been
called to attend him during his lingering illness, and the
blessings which his instructions had conveyed to her soul.
" I hear," said I, " that he learned to read before he died."
*' 0 yes, sir," she answered, " and to write too ! I have
several hymns of his writing."
I entreated her to give me one, but she had lent them
all to a gentleman in London ; he had learned to write, lying
on his back, w^ith a pencil and a slate.
I went to see his remains : I could not have recognized
his features ; he was worn to a skeleton ; his limbs were all
contracted, and shrivelled to the very bone ; but he had fled
to Him who dwelleth where the inhabitants shall no more
say, " I am sick;" " who shall change our vile body, that
it may be fashioned like imto his glorious body, according
to the mighty Avorking whereby he is able to subdue all
things unto himself."
" Reader, may'st tliou obtain like precious faith,
To smile in anguish, and rejoice in death."
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
]Vo. 9S7.
"LIFE FROM THE DEAD."
AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE.
" HOW CAN A MAN BE BORN WHEN HE IS OLD ?"— John 3 : 4.
H , Esq., is a respectable resident in one of
the most picturesque and delightful villages in the northern
states of America. He is now, 1833, turned of seventy-
years of age ; is a man of more than ordinary natural pow-
ers, and in his youth enjoyed the advantages of a good
academical education. Possessing an active mind, and an
ardent temperament, he never was an idle spectator of pass-
ing events. This disposition, with a ready utterance, which
enabled him to speak on all occasions without embarrass-
ment, led him to engage with ardor in political disputes,
and on every subject his influence was felt. He was one
of that class of men who must take sides, and who are con-
stitutionally inclined to do with all their might whatever
they undertake. In his hours of relaxation from business
he was always seen in warm debate with such as were in-
clined to dispute with him, or zealously giving his opinions
to those who were accustomed to look upon him as their
oracle. In these conversations religion was frequently his
topic. This Avas a subject which occupied many of his
thoughts, and in relation to which, until his fifty-seventh
year, he cherished all the deep-rooted opposition which
usually characterizes open infidels. So great, indeed, was
his contempt for the Gospel, that he could hardly speak of
those who professed it with candor. He was often heard
to ridicule the experience of new converts, and to speak in
scoffing terms of those who had acquired the most unex-
ceptionable character of piety. He despised the preaching
of the Gospel, and, though born of parents who early taught
him to reverence the Sabbath and the sanctuary, he had
not for many years been seen in the house of God, except
VOL. VIIL 5*
2 LIFE FROM THE DEAD.
at funerals, and lie generally prevented his family from at-
tending public worship.
Thus placing himself beyond the influence of restraint,
casting off fear, and living with neighbors who, in general,
were careless, he indulged in the most revolting use of pro-
fane language. The practice of using oaths became so ha-
bitual to him, that he seldom uttered a sentence without
taking the name of God in vain. He spent most of his Sab-
baths and evenings in ridiculing religion, and in defending
various systems of infidelity. Sometimes he w'as a Deist :
he would reject the Bible, but profess to believe in the be-
ing of a God, and the immortality of the soul. At other
times he would strenuously urge the probability that death
would be the end of his being. But his sentiments were
more permanently those of a Universalist of the common
stamp. Here was a system peculiarly congenial to his feel-
ings. It spread before him, in prospect, all that his ardent
mind could desire, while it imposed no unpleasant restraint
vipon his life. Tired, therefore, with being blown about
with every wind of doctrine, he determined to repose in his
sins, under the soothing prospect that, whatever his life
might be, all would be well with him at the last. But, pos-
sessing a mind that was never satisfied to adopt an opinion
without what he considered to be proof, he found it neces-
sary to muster his strong arguments. He furnished him-
self with books for the purpose, and seized upon all the wit
and ridicule by which the doctrines of universal salvation
have usually been defended ; and to give his system the ap-
pearance of authority, he searched the Bible, and selected
passages, and arranged them with great diligence into a
system. But I liave heard him say, " Miserable comforters
were they all !" Yet, in the common acceptation of the
words, he was an honest man, frank, ingenuous, and open-
hearted ; and often congratulated himself, and boasted in
the presence of others, that he was no hypocrite ! But J
H had a conscience, from which his early impressions
of religious truth w^ere never entirely effaced — a conscience
too, which, he is now convinced, was often stimulated to the
work of reproof by the strivings of the Holy Spirit. He
was a champion of the system he had adopted, but his mind
was " like the troubled sea when it cannot rest."
Mr. H was now fifty-six years of age. His char-
LIFE FROM THE DEAD. 3
acter presented the melancholy picture of a miin of respect-
ability and influence trusting his own soul to a refuge of
lies, teaching the language of profaneness to a numerous
family, and leading a multitude after him to perdition. Who
■would have said that this man would ever be a Christian ?
" Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his
spots ? Then may they also do good that are accustomed
to do evil."
In 1819 the minister of the place w^as dismissed, and
removed to another field of labor. His successor arrived
a total stranger, and the next day, being the Sabbath, be-
gan to deliver the Lord's message to the people. Among
his hearers was the man whom w^e have described above.
His intelligent countenance, the fixedness of his posture,
and the vivid flash of his eye, caught the attention of the
preacher, and peculiarly interested his feelings. "■ I was
never sensible," said he, " of sending forth my whole soul
with so much solicitude in prayer for a stranger, while, as
yet, I was entirely unacquainted with his character and con-
dition." The new minister had a desire to know him, and
embraced the first opportunity to inquire his name and char-
acter. To his unspeakable surprise he was informed that it
was the profane Mr. H , who had attended church be-
fore but once or twice in eleven years, and that all his ap-
parent interest in the discourse alluded to, was probably
only that of a determined opposer. On returning from the
house of worship he was heard to utter an expression too
profane to be repeated. Shocked with this intelligence, the
minister began to reflect upon himself for having urged Avith
so much confidence the salvation of a soul, upon Avhom, it
now seemed probable, that, on account of his rejection of
the truth, " God had sent strong delusions, that he might
believe a lie," and be lost for ever. He had but little rea-
son to hope for another opportunity of preaching the Gos-
pel to Mr. H , still he could not quite give him up, and
prayed that it might be otherwise than he feared. The
next Sabbath Mr. H was among his hearers ; and from
that day to the present, (thirteen years,) he has not failed
a single Sabbath, when not detained by sickness, of being
regularly and in season at the house of God.
His attendance, at first, w^as doubtless secured by the
following circumstances. Having once attended, as above
4 LIFE FROM THE DEAD.
related, a careless neighbor bantered him on the subject ;
when, on the spur of the moment, he swore he would be
present more times in six months than his neighbor ! From
this time neither of them lost an opportunity of outdoing
his antagonist, until, by the time the other had given up
the unholy contest, Mr. H had something fastened on
his mind which bound him to the sanctuary far more strong-
ly than his profane oath, with all the irreverent curses by
which it was accompanied.
During this time the new minister had commenced, in a
series of connected discourses, a discussion of the doctrines
of natural religion, which led him often to notice and refute
the cavils of infidels. From this he proceeded to the evi-
dences of revelation, and embodied and urged that system
of arguments which irresistibly proves the divine authority
of the Bible. The ardent and penetrating mind of Mr. H
was led captive, and his interest in the subject grew as the
discussion advanced, while the preacher thought he could
perceive indications of increasing anxiety Avithin. But to
those who conversed with him during the week, it was man-
ifest that, notwithstanding his apparent feeling, his heart
was still at enmity with God. He would roughly assail the
arguments of the preacher in the hearing of others, and sev-
eral times he accosted the minister with opposing sentiments.
But the minister scrupulously avoided entering into disputes
with him, and was accustomed to leave him with some sol-
emn remark on the necessity of pardon through the blood
of Christ.
After several months, the weakness of the arguments by
Avhich this profane man had sustained his infidel scheme,
became apparent to his own mind. The sunbeams of truth
had fallen on his dark soul, and scattered the mists of error
by which he had been deluded. His own wickedness re-
proved him. He saw that, with the word of God in his
hand, he had unwisely formed his opinions and constructed
his system of theology independent of its authority. He
began to restrain his infidel wit and cavillings ; and one day,
while passing from the church, he remarked with an oath,
unconscious of the dreadful inconsistency of the expression,
that he believed religion a good thing, and that he meant to
seek it. Soon after this, stung with a sense of the scandal
he had brought on himself and family by his long neglect
LIFE FROM THE DEAD. 5
of the sanctuary, he strictly enjoined it on his children to
attend worship every Sabbath ; yet in urging upon them
and others the importance of religion, his conversation was
often interspersed with oaths and profaneness too shocking
to be repeated. Indeed, the habit of using profane lan-
guage had become so familiar to him, that for a considera-
ble time after his mind was evidently impressed, he seemed
insensible that he was mingling with his religious remarks
the very dialect of hell. Of this he was, at length, remind-
ed. He trembled at the consequences of a sin so wanton
and senseless, and one of his first efforts at reformation was
a determination to leave off swearing. To assist him in this
purpose, he invited his neighbors to reprove him whenever
they heard him use an oath. This they had frequent occa-
sion to do, till in a few weeks he subdued a habit which
had acquired the strength of years.
Having thus succeeded in this and several other points
of external reformation, Mr. H trusted in himself that
he should be righteous. But his prospect darkened as he
proceeded, and the gulf, upon whose brink he had sported
away a long life, seemed to yawn wider and wider, the
more he attempted, in his own strength, to escape its dan-
gers. His conflicts with particular sinful habits, on whose
extermination he was resolved, convinced him that they
were not alone, but belonged to a legion within, which re-
mained yet to be subdued. He perceived that all his labo-
rious attempts at external reformation had not even touched
the seat of his malady, and that so long as the fountain of
his heart remained uncleansed, it would continue to send
forth bitter streams. These streams had now become worm-
wood and gall to his taste. He was oppressed with a deep
sense of his guilt before God. He ceased to talk of out-
ward reformation. He was ashamed, and blushed to lift
up his face even to a fellow-mortal in justification of any
thing he had ever done. He retired from the society of
those with whom he had been accustomed to converse with
fluency on the externals of religion. His whole soul was
now engaged. So severe was his distress, that he loathed
his necessary food, and his sleep forsook him in the night
season. The chills of despair came over him. His coun-
tenance was cast down to the earth, his flesh was wasting
away, and serious apprehensions were entertained by his
6 LIFE FHOM THE DEAD.
friends as to the result upon his bodily health. He remain-
ed in this situation about two weeks, during which time his
convictions of sin were constantly increasing, and he found
no comfort in Christ. At length he called one morning
upon the minister who was now settled in the parish, by
whom he was met at the door. The minister took him by
the hand, and inquired after his health. " Oh," said he,
'' I am a poor creature ; there is nothing for me but miser}^,
in this world, or in the world to come ;" and wept aloud.
The minister was overpowered, and unable to command his
feelings sufficiently to reply ; and, unmindful of the notice
of those who might be passing, he stood in the door and
wept w^ith him. He has often related the story, and said,
" I was never conscious of feeling so deeply a sense of the
goodness of God, and of my own littleness, as wdien I saw
that gray-headed sinner before me, bathed in tears ; that
hackneyed transgressor, who had daringly trampled on Sab-
baths, and sermons, and prayers, and the Son of God him-
self, now, in the evening of his life, so humbled by the
power of the Highest, that he would come to me for coun-
sel."
The minister soon regained his self-possession, and in-
vited his new and Avelcome guest to his chamber, where he
knelt down with him and prayed, and rose up and preached
Christ crucified for the remission of sins. Mr. H was
convulsed w4th grief. " Oh," said he, " there can be no
pardon for me ; I have been such a -wretch, not only in
spurning the offers of mercy myself, but in teaching my
dear family to despise religion. I have been angry with
them, and abused them when they have sometimes stolen
away from me, and found their w^ay to the sanctuary of
the Lord's house. And I have been offended with my wife,
who has often remained in her room alone, I knew not for
what purpose, after I had retired to my bed. She now tells
me, what she never dared mention before, that she used to
sit u}) to iwaij for me. Oh, it is too much to be forgiven !"
The minister replied, " It can be forgiven, Mr. H . ' It
is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ
Jesus came into the world to save sinners, even the chief.'
Believe this ; go and plead it before the throne of God, and
be willing to be any thing, that you may promote his glory."
Mr. H listened with deep feeling ; he partly believed,
LIFE FROIM THE DEAD. 7
but his proud heart could not yet consent entirely to give
up his boasted self-righteousness. The interview closed,
and he departed, having yet no peace in believing. But
the Spirit of God had begun a good work in his soul. He
remained in the deep waters until the following Sabbath.
Then, as he listened to the message of grace through the
blood of Christ, a ray of hope lighted upon his heart.
It had now begun to be a time of revival in the church,
and others around were asking what they must do to be
saved. A conference meeting was held on the Sabbath
evening, which was numerously attended, and Mr. H
was present. After a powerful address by the pastor, he
arose and requested liberty to speak. With eyes filled with
tears, and in broken sentences, he proceeded nearly in the
following words :
" My friends and neighbors — I am now fifty- eight years
of age, and during the whole of my life I have served the
enemy of souls ; and you are witnesses for me that I have
done it zealously. I am now determined, in humble reli-
ance on the grace of God, that I will serve the Lord as zeal-
ously all the remnant of my days. And I humbly ask an
interest in the prayers of God's people here, that I may be
sustained in this resolution. I have been esteemed a man
of truth, and so I have been, in all my intercourse with the
world, and you had reason to believe me, when I used to
say I was a Universalist. I tried to be a Universalist, and
tried to be a Deist, and once thought I was one. But, my
friends, I was not. I never was either, I had no rest any-
where, I never was any thing but an enemy to God. And
I now humbly ask your pardon for the injury I have done
you and the cause of Christ, by my example, and by all
my profane conversation on these subjects. I now put
all my confidence in Jesus Christ, and choos^e him as my
portion."
He was at length overcome by his feelings, and was
compelled to sit down. The effect on the meeting was vis-
ible. Great fear came upon all, and every body said that
the poAver which could effect such a change must be divine.
He had already established family pi^aj-er, which he has ever
since continued regularly. He is now an ardent, persever-
ing Christian ; and all who remember his former state, con-
template his present character with wonder.
8 LIFE FROM THE DEAD.
" Great is the work, my neighbors cried,
And own'd thy power divine ;
Great is the Avork, my heart replied,
And be the glory thine."
Thus may " a man be born when he is old," by the re-
generating and sanctifying power of the Holy Spirit, making
him a new creature in Christ Jesus, a willing servant of the
Lord. And he, to whom Christ has forgiven much, will
love much, and. strive to do much for the glory of God.
The happy consequences of the new birth of the subject of
this narrative have already been witnessed in the conversion
of five of his children, who, together with himself and his
aged companion, are now members of the same church.
Two extensive revivals of religion have since been enjoyed
in that place, which have added to the number of the pro-
fessed followers of Christ more than two hundred and fifty
souls. Many of these will doubtless praise God in eternity
for the fervent prayers and zealous activity of the aged,
but prompt and laborious J H ; and if the Father
of mercies, in answer to the prayer of the writer, shall deign
to bless this Tract to the souls of its readers, tens of thou-
sands may hereafter be converted through its instrumen-
tality ; and "■ what shall the receiving of them he, hat life
FROM THE DEAD?" RoDl. 11 : 15.
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY
No. 358.
THREE ClUEEIES
TO
THE REJECTERS OF CHRISTIANITY.
BY REV. ANDREW PULLER,
I. How came you to renounce Christianity, and to im-
bibe your present principles ?
Retrace the process of your mind, and ask your con-
science, as you proceed, whether all was fair and upright ?
Nothing is more common, than for persons of relaxed mor-
als to attribute their change of conduct to a change of sen-
timents or views relative to certain subjects. It is galling
to one's own feelings, and mean in the account of others, to
act against pri7iciple ; but if a person can once persuade
himself to think favorably of those things which he has
formerly accounted sinful, and can furnish a plea for them
which, at least, may serve to parry the censures of man-
kind, he will feel much more at ease, and be able to put on
a better face when he mingles with society. Whatever in-
ward stings may annoy his peace under certain occasional
qualms, yet he has not to reproach himself, nor can others
reproach him, with such inconsistency of character as in
former instances. Rousseau confesses he found in the rea-
sonings of a certain lady, with whom he lived in the great-
est possible familiarity, all those ideas ivhich he had occasion
for. Have you not found the same in the conversation and
writings of Deists ? Did you not, previously to your rejec-
tion of Christianity, indulge in vicious courses ; and while
indulging in these courses, did not its holy precepts and
VOL. VIII, 6
2 THREE QUERIES TO THE
awful threatenings gall your spirits ? Were you not like a
person gathering forbidden fruit amidst showers of arrows ;
and had you not recourse to your present principles for a
shield against them ? If you cannot honestly answer these
questions in the negative, you are in an evil case. You
may flatter yourself for a while that perhaps there may be
no hereafter, or at least, no judgment to come ; but you
know the time is not far distant when you must go and see ;
and then, if you should be mistaken, what will you do ?
Perhaps you are descended from godly parents, and
have had a religious education. Has not your infidelity
arisen from the dislike which you conceived in early life to
religious exercises? Family worship was a weariness to
you ; and the cautions, warnings, and counsels which were
given you, instead of having any proper effect, only irri-
tated your corruptions. You longed to be from under the
yoke. Since that time your parents, it may be, have been
removed by death ; or if they live, they may have lost their
control over you. So now you are free. But still, some-
thing is wanting to erase the prejudices of education, which,
in spite of all your efforts, will accompany you, and imbit-
ter your present pui'suits. For this purpose, a friend puts
into your hands some deistical composition. You read it
with avidity. This is the very thing you wanted. You
have long suspected the truth of Christianity, but had not
courage to oppose. Now then you are a philosopher ; yes,
a philosopher ! " Our fathers," say you, " might be well-
meaning people, but they were imposed upon by priests.
The world gets more enlightened nowadays. There is no
need of such rigidness. The Supreme Being, if there be
one, can never have created the pleasures of life but for the
purpose of enjoyment. Avaunt, ye self-denying casuists ;
Nature is the law of man!"
Was not this, or something nearly resembling it, the
process of your mind ? Are you now satisfied ? I do not
ask whether you have been able to defend your cause
against assailants, or whether you have gained converts to
REJECTERS OF CHRISTIAMTV. 3
your way of thinking : you may have done both ; but are
you satisfied with yourself? Do you really beheve yourself
to be in the right way ? Have you no misgivings of heart ?
Is there not something within you that occasionally whis-
pers, " My parents were righteous, and I am wicked. O
that my soul was in their souls' stead ?"
Ah, young man, if such be the occasional revolutions
of your own mind, what are you doing in laboring to gain
others over to your way of thinking ? Can you, from expe-
rience, honestly promise them peace of mind ? Can you go
about to persuade them that there is no hell, when, if you
would speak the truth, you must acknowledge that you
have already an earnest of it kindled in your own bosom ?
If counsels were not lost upon you, I would entreat you to
be contented Avith destroying your own soul. Have pity
on your fellow- creatures, if you have none upon yourself.
Nay, spare yourself so much, at least, as not to incur the
everlasting execrations of your most intimate acquaintance.
If Christianity should prove what your conscience, in your
most serious moments, tells you it is, you are doing this
every day of your life.
II. How is it, that almost all your writers, at one time
or other, hear testimony in favor of Christianity ?
It were easy to collect from those very writings which
were designed to undermine the Christian religion, hundreds
of testimonies in its favor. Voltaire and Rousseau, as is
well known, have, at times, gone far towards contradicting
all which they have written against it. Bolinghroke has
done the same. Such sentences as the following may be
found in his publications : " Supposing Christianity to
have been a human invention, it has been the most amiable
invention that ever was imposed on mankind for their good.
Christianity, as it came out of the hand of God, if I may
use the expression, was a most simple and intelligible rule
of belief, worship, and manners, which is the true notion of
religion. The Gospel, in all cases, is one continued lesson
of the strictest morality, of justice, of benevolence, and of
4 THREE aUERIES TO THE
universal charity." Fame, perhaps, has said as Httle in
this way as any of your writers, yet he has professed re-
spect for the character of Jesus Christ. "He was," says
he, " a virtuous and an amiable man. The morahty that
he preUched and practised was of the most benevolent
kind."
In what manner will you attempt to account for these
concessions ? Christian writers, those at least who are sin-
cerely attached to the cause, are not seized with these fits
of inconsistency. How is it that yourSj like the worship-
pers of Baal, should thus be continually cutting themselves
with knives ?
You must either give up your leaders, as a set of men
who, while they were laboring to persuade the world of the
hypocrisy of priests, were themselves the most infamous of
all hypocrites ; or, which will be equally fatal to your cause,
you must attribute it to occasional convictions which they
felt and expressed, though contrary to the general strain of
their writings. Is it not an unfavorable character of your
cause, that in this particular it exactly resembles that of
vice itself ? Vicious men will often bear testimony in favor
of virtue, especially on the near approach of death ; but
virtuous men never retuiTi the compliment by bearing tes-
timony in favor of vice. We are not afraid of Christians
thus betraying their cause : but neither your writers nor
your conscience are to be trusted in a serious hour.
HI. Hoio comes it to jx^ss that your principles fail, as
they are frequently knoimi to do, in a dying hour ?
It is a rule with wise men, so to live as they shall wish
they had lived when they come to die. How do you suppose
you shall wish you had lived in that day ? Look at the
deaths of your greatest men, and see what their principles
have done for them at last. Mark the end of that apostle
and high- priest of your profession, Voltaire; and try if
you can find in it either integrity, or hope, or any thing
that should render it an object of envy. The follow-
ing particulars, among many others, are recorded of this
REJECTERS OF CHRISTIANITY. 5
•writer, by his biographer, Condorcet, a man after his own
heart.
1. That he conceived the design of ovei-turning the
Christian rehgion, and that by his own hand. ''I am wea-
ried," said he, " of hearing it repeated, that twelve men
were sufiScient to estabhsh Christianity; and I wish to
prove there needs but one to destroy it."
2. That in pursuit of this object he was threatened with
a prosecution, to avoid w^hich he received the sacrament,
and publicly declared his respect for the church, and his
disdain for his detractors, namely, those who had called in
question his Christianity !
3. That in his last illness in Paris, being desirous of
obtaining what is called Christian burial, he sent for a
priest, to whom he declared that he " died in the Catholic
faith, in which he was born."
4. That another priest, curate of the parish, troubled
him with questions. Among other things, he asked, "Do
you believe in the divinity of Jesus Christ?" "In the
name of God, sir," replied Voltaire, " speak to me no more
of that man, but let me die in peace."
Why is it that so many of you faint in the day of trial ?
If your cause Avere good, you would defend it with upright-
ness, and die with inward satisfaction. But is it so ? A
Deist may flatter himself that his principles will bear him
up in the prospect of death ; and it is possible that he may
brave it out as it is said David Hume did. Such instances,
however, are rare. For one unbeliever that maintains his
courage, many might be produced Avhose hearts have failed
them, and who have trembled for the consequences of their
infidelity.
On the other hand, you cannot produce a single instance
of a Christian ivlio, at the ai^proach of death, was troubled
or terrified in his conscience for having been a Christian.
Many have been afraid in that day, lest their faith in Christ
should not prove genuine ; but who that has put his trust
in him, was ever known to be apprehensive lest he should
VOL. VIII. 6*
Q THREE QUERIES TO THE
at last deceive him ? Can you account for that difference ?
If you have discovered the true religion, and Christianity
be all fable and imposture, how comes it to pass that the
issue of things is what it is? Do gold, and silver, and
precious stones perish in the fire, and do wood, and hay,
and stubble endure it ?
I have admitted that a Deist may possibly brave it out
till the last ; but if he does, his courage may be merely
assumed. Pride will induce men to disguise the genuine
feelings of their hearts on more occasions than one. We
hear much of courage among duellists ; but little credit is
due to what they say, if, while the words proceed from
their lips, we see them approach each other with paleness
and trembling. Your own writers admit, "the Power that
called us into being, can, if he pleases, and when he pleases,
call us to account for the manner in which we live here ;
and therefore, without seeking any farther motive for the
belief, it is rational to beUeve that he will, for we know be-
forehand that he can."
Let this hypothesis be admitted, and that in its lowest
form, that there is only a possibility of a judgment to come :
this is sufficient to evince your folly, and, if you thought on
the subject, to destroy your peace. This alone has induced
many infidels in their last moments to wish that they had lived
like Christians. If it be possible that there may be a judg-
ment to come, why should it not be equally possible that
Christianity itself may be true? And if it should, on what
ground do you stand ? If it be otherwise. Christians have
nothing to fear. While they are taught " to deny ungodli-
ness and worldly lusts, and live soberly, righteously, and
godly, in this present evil world," whatever might prove
true with respect to another, it is presumed they are safe ;
but if that Saviour whom you have despised should indeed
be the Son of God — if that name wliich you have blas-
phemed should be the only one given under heaven among
men, by which you can be saved, what a situation must you
be in ! You may wish at present not to be told of him ;
REJECTERS OF CHRISTIAMTY. 7
yea, even in death it may be a vexation, as it was to Vol-
taire, to hear of him ; but hear of him you must, and,
what is more, you must appear before him.
I cannot condude this address without expressing* my
earnest desire for your salvation; and whether you will
hear, or whether you will forbear, reminding you that your
Redeemer is merciful. He can have compassion on the
ignorant, and them who are out of the way. The door of
mercy is not yet shut. At present you are invited, and
even entreated to enter in. And every thing which, as a
sinner, you can want, is graciously provided in the Gospel :
a free pardon through the atonement of Jesus ; a full justi-
fication through his righteousness ; and the promised aids
of his Holy Spirit to purify your heart and reform your
life. Now, therefore, is the accepted time ; this is the day
of salvation. But if you still continue hardened against
Him, you may find, to your cost, that the abuse of mercy
gives an edge to justice ; and that, to be crushed to atoms
by falling rocks, or buried in oblivion at the bottom of
mountains, were rather to be chosen than an exposure to
the wrath of the Lamb.
TESTIMONY OF THE INFIDEL ROUSSEAU.
" I will confess to you that the majesty of the Scrip-
tures strikes me witli admiration, as the purity of the
Gospel hath its influence on my heart. Peruse the works
of our philosophers with all their pomp of diction : how
mean, how contemptible are they, compared with the Scrip-
ture. Is it possible that a book, at once so simple and
sublime, should be merely the work of man ? Is it possible
that the sacred personage whose history it contains, should
be himself a mere man ? Do we find that he assumed the
tone of an enthusiast or ambitious sectary ? What sweet-
ness, what purity in his manner ; what an aff'ecting grace-
fulness in his delivery ; what sublimity in his maxims ; what
8 THREE UL'ERIES.
profound wisdom in his discourses ; what presence of mind,
what subtlety, what truth in his rephes ; how great the
command over his passions ! Where is the man, where the
philosopher, w^ho could so live, and so die, without weak-
ness, and without ostentation ?
" The death of Socrates, peaceably philosophizing with
his friends, appears the most agreeable that could be wish-
ed for: that of Jesus, expiring in the midst of agonizing
pains, abused, insulted, and accused by a whole nation, is
the most horrible that could be feared. Socrates, in re-
ceiving the poison, blessed indeed the weeping executioner
who administered it ; but Jesus, in the midst of excruciat-
ing tortures, prayed for his merciless tormentors. Yes, if
the life and death of Socrates were those of a sage, the
life and death of Jesus are those of a God. Shall we sup-
pose the evangelic history a mere fiction? Indeed, my
friend, it bears not the marks of fiction ; on the contrary,
the history of Socrates, which nobody presumes to doubt,
is not so w^ell attested as that of Jesus Christ. Such ii
supposition, in fact, only shifts the difficulty^ Avithout ob-
viating it : it is more inconceivable that a number of persons
should agree to write such a history, than that only one
should furnish the history of it. The Jewish authors were
incapable of the diction, and strangers to the morality con-
tained in the Gospel, the marks of whose truth are so
striking and inimitable, that the inventor would be a more
astonishing character than the hero.'" Emile, Book 4,
Works, vol. 9, pp. 1 4*7-151, Geneva.
FUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
JVo. 339.
A VIEW
OF THE
EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
BY J. FLETCHER
1. The sacred penmen, the prophets and the apostles,
were holy, excellent men, and would not — artless, illiterate
men, and therefore could not, lay the horrible scheme of
deluding mankind. The hope of gain did not influence
them, for they were self-denying men, that left all to follow
a Master who had not where to lay his head, and whose
grand initiating maxim was, Except a man forsake all that he
hath, he cannot he my disciple. They were so disinterested
that they secured nothing on earth but hunger and naked-
ness, stocks and prisons, racks and tortures, which indeed
was all that they could or did expect, in consequence of
Christ's express declarations. Add to this, that they were
so many, and lived at such distance of time and place from
each other, that, had they been impostors, it would have
been impracticable for them to contrive and cany on a forg-
ery without being detected. And as they neither would
nor could deceive the world, so they neither could nor would
he deceived themselves ; for they were, days, months, and
years, eye and ear witnesses of the things which they relate ;
and, to leave us no room to question their sincerity, most of
them joyfully sealed the truth of their doctrines with their
own blood.
2. But even while they lived, they confirmed their tes-
timony by a variety of miracles, wrought in divers places,
and for a number of years ; sometimes before thousands of
their enemies, as the miracles of Christ and his disciples ;
sometimes before hundreds of thousands, as those of Moses.
These miracles were so well known and attested, that when
both Christ and Moses appealed to their authenticity be-
fore their bitterest opposers, mentioning the persons upon
whom, as well as the particular time when, and the places
2 TilE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
"vvhere they had been performed, the facts were never de-
nied, but were passed over in silence, or mahciously attributed
to the prince of the devils. So sure, then, as God would
never have displayed his arm in the most astonishing man-
ner for the support of imposture, the sacred penmen had
their commission from the Almighty, and their writings are
his lively oracles.
3. Reason itself dictates, that nothing but the plainest
matter of fact could induce so many thousands of prejudiced
and persecuting Jews to embrace the humbling, self-deny-
ing doctrines of the cross, which they so much despised and
abhorred. Nothing but the clearest evidence, arising from
undoubted truth, could make multitudes of lawless, luxu-
rious heathens receive, follow, and transmit to posterity the
doctrines and writings of the apostles ; especially, at a time
when the vanity of their pretensions to miracles and the
gift of tongues could be so easily discovered, had they been
impostors, and at a time when the profession of Christianity
exposed persons of all ranks to the greatest contempt and
most imminent danger. In this respect, the case of the
primitive Christians widely differed from that of Mahomet's
followei-s ; for those who adhered to the warlike, violent
impostor, saved their lives and property, or attained to
honor, by their new, easy, and flesh-pleasing religion ; but
those who devoted themselves to the meek, self-denying,
crucified Jesus, were frequently spoiled of their goods, and
cruelly put to death ; or, if they escaped with their lives,
were looked upon as the very dregs of mankind.
4. When the authenticity of the miracles was attested
by thousands of living witnesses, religious rites were insti-
tuted and performed by hundreds of thousands, agreeable
to Scripture injunctions, in order to perpetuate that authen-
ticity. And these solemn ceremonies have ever since been
kept up in all parts of the world : the passover by the Jews,
in remembrance of Moses' miracles in Egypt ; and the
eucharist by Christians, as a memorial of Christ's death.
5. The Scriptures have not only the external sanction
of miracles, but the internal stamp of the omniscient God,
by a variety of prophecies, some of which have already been
most exactly confirmed by the events predicted : witness
the rise and fall of the four grand monarchies, according to
Daniel's prophecy, chapters 2 and 7, and the destruction
THE EVIDENCES OF CIIRISTIAXTTY. 3
of the city and temple of Jerusalem, foretold by Christ,
Matt. 24:2; while others are every day fulfilled in the face
of infidels, particularly the persecution of the real disciples
of Christ in our times, as well as in all ages — see Matt.
10 : 22, 35 ; John 15 : 20 ; and Gal. 4 : 29 — and the present
miserable state of the Jews, so exactly described by Moses
about three thousand years ago. See Deut. 28 : 65.
G. This scattered, despised people, the irreconcilable
enemies of Christians, keep with amazing care the Old Tes-
tament, full of the prophetic history of Jesus Christ, and
by that means afford the world a striking proof that the
New Testament is true ; and Christians in their turn show
that the Old Testament is abundantly confirmed and ex-
plained by the New. The Earl of Rochester, the great
wit of the last century, was so struck with this proof, that
upon reading the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah, with floods
of penitential tears he lamented his former infidelity, and
warmly embraced the faith which he had so publicly ridi-
culed.
1. To say nothing of the venerable antiquity, and won-
derful preservation of those books, some of which are by
far the most ancient in the world, but to pass over the
inimitable simplicity, or true sublimity of their style, they
carry with them such characters of truth as command the
respect of every unprejudiced reader. They open to us the
mystery of the creation, the nature of God, angels, and
man, the immortality of the soul, the end for which we were
made, the origin and connection of moral and natural evil,
the vanity of this world, and the glory of the next. There
we see inspired shepherds, tradesmen, and fishermen, sur-
passing as much the greatest philosophers as these did the
mass of mankind, both in meekness of wisdom and sublimity
of doctrine. There we admire the purest morality in the
world, agreeable to the dictates of sound reason, confirmed
by the witness which God has placed for himself in our
breasts, and exemplified in the lives of men of like passions
with ourselves. There we discover a vein of ecclesiastical
history and theological truth, consistently running throuo-h
a collection of sixty- six different books, written by various
authors, in different languages, during the space of above
fifteen hundred years. There we find, as in a deep and
pure spring, all the genuine drops and streams of spiritual
4 THE EVIDEXCES OF CHRISTIANITY.
knowledge which can be met with in the largest libraries.
There the workings of the human heart are described in a
manner that demonstrates the inspiration of the Searcher
of hearts. There we have a particular account of all our
spiritual maladies, with their various symptoms, and the
method of a certain cure — a cure that has been witnessed
by millions of martyrs and departed saints, and is now en-
joyed by thousands of good men, who would account it an
honor to seal the truth of the Scriptures with their own
blood. There you meet with the noblest strains of peni-
tential and joyous devotion, adapted to the dispositions and
states of all travellers to Sion. And there you read those
awful threatenings and cheering promises, which are daily
fulfilled in the consciences of men, to the admiration of be-
lievers and the astonishment of attentive infidels.
8. The wonderful efficacy of the Scriptures is another
proof that they are of God. When they are faithfully ex-
pounded by his ministers, and powerfully applied by his
Spirit, they wound and heal, they kill and malce alive, they
alarm the careless, turn or enrage the wicked, direct the
lost, support the tempted, strengthen the weak, comfort
mourners, and nourish pious souls. As the woman of Sa-
maria said of Jesus, Come, see a man that told me all that
ever I did : is not this the Christ ? a good man can say of
the Bible, Come, see a book that told me all that was in my
heart, and acquainted me with the various trials and dan-
gers I have met with in my spiritual travels — a book where
I have found those truths which, like a divinely-tempered
sword, have cut my way through all the snares and forces
of my spiritual adversaries ; and by whose directions my
soul has happily entered the paradise of divine and broth-
erly love. Is not this the book of God ?
9. To conclude, it is exceedingly remarkable, that the
more humble and holy people are, the more they read, ad-
mire, and value the Scriptures ; and on the contrary, the
more self-conceited, worldly-minded, and wicked, the more
they neglect, despise, and asperse them.
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
FOR EVER!
FROM REV. RICHARD BAXTER
Alas, what heart can conceive, or what tongue express,
the pains of those souls that are now enduring the wrath of
God ! If thou couldst ask the thousands in hell what mad-
ness brought them thither, many of them would answer,
" We thouofht we w^ere Christians, and sure of beinof saved,
till we found ourselves here. We have flattered ourselves
into these torments, and now there is no remedy."
Reader, I must in faithfulness tell thee, that these false
hopes of being saved while thou art living in sin, will prove
in the end but a ruinous delusion. There is none of this
believino^ in hell. In this life, thouo-h sinners are threatened
with the wrath of God, yet their hope of escaping bears up
their hearts. We can now scarcely speak with the vilest
drunkard, or swearer, or scoffer, but he hopes to be saved,
notwithstanding all his sins.
It is the most pitiable sight this world affords, to see
such an ungodly person dying, and to think of his soul and
his hopes departing together. With what a sad change he
appears in another world ! Think, then, how it will aggra-
vate the misery of lost souls, that, with the loss of heaven,
they shall lose all that hope of it which now supports them.
Besides, they will lose also that false peace of conscience,
which makes their present life so easy. Who would think,
when we see how quietly the multitude of the ungodly live,
that they must very shortly lie down in everlasting flames ?
They are as free from fears as an obedient believer, and per-
haps often have less uneasiness of mind. In this life, when
they were told of hell, or when conscience troubled their
peace, they had comforters at hand : their jovial friends,
their business, their company, their mirth. They could
drink, play, or sleep away their sorrows. There is none of
this in hell : there all these remedies will vanish. They
will there lose all their carnal mirth and jovial companions.
To meditate and pray now, they fancy would be enough to
make them miserable, or run mad. They were wont to
VOL. VIIT. 7
2 FOR EVER !
think sermons and prayers long. Oh, how will they regret
that they thought so, when their doom is fixed for ever.
Poor souls, what a misery will that life be where they shall
have nothing but sorrow — intense, heart-piercing, multiplied
sorrow. Is there one merry heart in hell, or one joyful
countenance, or jesting tongue ? How wull it even cut them
to the heart to look each other in the face. What an inter-
view will there be, when they shall be heard cursing the
day that ever they saw one another.
But the torments of lost souls must be extreme, because
they are the effect of divine vengeance, God, being infinitely
just as well as abundant in mercy, has himself appointed
them for those w^ho reject Christ. As it was no less than
God whom they offended, so it is no less than God who
will punish them for their ofiPences. If it w^ere but a crea-
ture with whom they had to do, they might bear it better ;
but "it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living
God." Heb. 10:31.
Consider also, that the body and soul tvill suffer together.
The body must bear its part, but the soul being of a more
excellent nature than the body, its torments w^ill far exceed
those of the body. That body which was so carefully
attended to, so tenderly cherished, so curiously dressed,
what must it then endure ! Those ears which were accus-
tomed to music and songs, shall hear the shrieks and cries
of their wretched companions : children crying out against
their parents, who gave them encouragement and example
in evil ; husbands and wives, masters and servants, ministers
and people, magistrates and subjects, charging their misery
one upon another, for discouragement in duty, for conniv-
ing at sin, and being silent w^hen they should have plainly
foretold the danger. Thus will soul and body be compan-
ions in woe !
But the greatest aggravation of these torments will be
their eternitg. When a thousand millions of ages are past,
they are as fresh to begin over again as the first day. If
there were any hope of an end, it would ease lost souls to
foresee it ; but for ever is an intolerable thought. They
were never weary of sinning, nor will God ever be weary
of punishing ; they never heartily repented of sin, so God
will never repent of his judgments. They broke the laws
of the eternal God, and therefore shall suffer eternal miserv.
FOR EVER ! 3
Why does the approach of death so mucli alarm thee ? Why-
does the thought or mention of hell occasion thee so much
uneasiness ? If the bare idea be grievous, what must it be
to endure the torments themselves for ever? Is it not an
intolerable thing to burn part of thy body by holding it in
the fire ? What then will it be to suffer ten thousand times
more for ever in the pit of misery, where thou shalt have no
other companythan devils and condemned spirits, and shalt
not only see them, but be tormented with them, and by
them, night and da}^ for ever?
Reader, thou art to this day in earnest about the things
of this life. If thou art sick, or in pain, what serious com-
plaints dost thou make ! If thou art poor, how hard dost
thou labor for a livelihood ! And is not the business of thy
salvation of far greater moment ? If one of thine acquaint-
ance should come from the dead, and tell thee that he suf-
fered the torments of hell for those sins of which thou art
guilty, what a different person wouldst thou afterwards be !
If thou hadst seen the judgment-seat, and the books opened,
and the wicked trembhng on the left hand of the Judge,
and the godly rejoicing on the right hand, and their different
sentences pronounced, what a different life Avouldst thou
afterwards lead ! This sight thou shalt one day surely see.
If thou hadst seen hell opened, and all its inhabitants in
their ceaseless torments, and heaven opened, as Stephen did,
Acts 7 : 56, and all the saints there triumphing in glory,
what a holy life wouldst tltou have led after such sights !
These thou wilt see before long. If thou hadst endured
one year, or one day, or one hour, the torments thou now
hearest of, how seriously w^ouldst thou then speak of hell,
and pray against it ! If thou knewest this were the last day
thou hadst to live, how wouldst thou spend it ?
Now, reader, let me solemnly ask thee — What sayest
thou to all this ? Thou art standing this day on the brink
of eternity. Wilt thou continue in thy sins, and be lost for
ever ? Remember, God is in earnest with thee now, and
will be hereafter. What, shall heaven be utterly lost to
thee ? Shall the gates of hell be closed upon thee for ever ?
Trifle no longer. Remember, death is at hand, judgment
comes next, and after that an eternity of happiness or mis-
ery ! If thou diest impenitent, unpardoned, and unsancti-
fied, hell is thy portion for ever ! for ever ! for ever .
4 FOR EVER !
Dost thou then mqiiire, " How can I escape the Avrath to
come ? What must I do to be saved ?" Acts 16:30. Let
me tell thee, in reply, If thou art really sincere, and in
earnest, and dost feel thyself a lost sinner, guilty and con-
demned before God, and if thou dost really desire to be
saved, then hearken unto the only "vvay of salvation. " Be-
lieve on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved,"
Acts 16 : 31 ; *'for God so loved the world that he gave
his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him
should not perish, but have everlasting life." John 3:16.
He died in the place of sinners, as their substitute ; so that
God can now be just, and the justifier of him that believeth
in Jesus. Rom. 3:26. Repent, therefore, and forsake thy
sins. Flee unto Jesus Christ for pardon ; for he says, '* Him
that Cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out." John 6:37.
Delay not one moment, lest God's anger consume thee, and
tear thee in pieces, and there be none to deliver thee.
Psalm 50 : 22. While the door of mercy is open hasten
unto Christ, and he will receive thee. Retire to thy room,
fall down on thy knees, and when none but God can see
thee, cry mightily unto the Lord for mercy. Plead the
merits of Christ ; pray fervently from the bottom of thy
heart, that he would give thee his Holy Spirit, and create
in thee desires after God and holiness, and so prepare thee
for heaven, and save thy soul for ever. Remember, the
blood of Christ can alone cleanse thee from all sin. 1 John,
1 : 7. He alone can save thee from the dreadful wrath of
God ; for he came into the world to save sinners. 1 Tim.
1 : 15.
Trembling sinner, thou needest not despair. Come to
Christ and be saved. Remember, life is uncertain. Health
is uncertain. Now, while thou hast both, set about thy
salvation in earnest. Christ will pardon thee, and will give
thee true peace of mind in this life, and when thou diest,
thou shalt dwell with him in heaven, in perfect happiness,
throughout the countless ages of eternity. Amen.
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
JVo. 361
THE TAPROOT.
On a bright and bracing afternoon, early in March, re-
turning from a visit to an afflicted family, I met with one of
my intelligent parishioners sitting on a fence. A gorgeous
sunset was displaying its glories in the west, and my friend
gave true indications that the day closing around us had not
been spent in idleness. " What," said I, in a friendly tone
of recognition, " are you doing here ?" " I want," said he,
" to transplant that pretty elm into my door-yard, and I
have been laboring here for hours to dig it up, in vain. The
tree, perhaps, is a little too old to be transplanted ; but if
removed early in the spring, and with a large root, trees fre-
quently live, even beyond the age of this."
I crossed the fence to take a view of the tree. I found
it surrounded with a deep trench, and its lateral roots all
cut ; and feehng that a strong push would lay it on the
earth, I gave it one. Not a twig nor a leaf moved the more
on that account. I wondered — and turning to my friend, I
asked, "Why is it so firm, when so many of its roots are cut,
and when united to the earth by a stem so small ?" "The
taproot,''' said he, " remains, and until that is cut it will
stand firm." Hearing the phrase for the first time in my
life, I asked, "What do you mean by the tcqrroot?" "Al-
most every tree," said he, " has its taproot, which goes as
straight down into the earth as the trunk goes into the air ;
and until that root is cut the tree stands, and will grow.
And if I should fill up this trench now, the tree would feel
but little the cutting of all these lateral roots. They would
soon grow out, and the tree would be as strong as ever,"
We soon parted. I pursued my way home pondering
these remarks. The tree was transplanted, and now stands,
a noble and beautiful tree, just in the place selected for it.
My friend has been transplanted to another Avorld. Years
have passed since the above conversation, but it has never
been forgotten. It has suggested many truths to my mind ;
and it explains many things frequently occurring under our
VOL. VIII. 7*
2 THE TAPROOT.
own observation, and which frequently cause doubt and
hesitation. Ponder some of these.
Are trees transplanted with difficulty after they have
received a certain growth ? This all admit. The rule is,
to transplant them, whether fruit, forest, or ornamental,
when young. Such is the law which rules in the kingdom
of grace. "How can a man be born when he is old ?" is a
question of emphatic import to those who have grown up to
mature years without repentance.
Has almost every tree its taproot ? So every sinner has
his besetting sin, which sustains him in his rebellion against
God more than any other, and even when almost all others
seem to be laid aside.
Are the lateral roots cut in vain, until the taproot is
cut ? Does the tree stand until the taproot is severed ? So,
as far as their salvation is concerned, men are reformed in
vain from immoral practices, until the heart is converted,
A depraved heart is the taproot of that tree of evil which
bears fruit unto death. And until that heart is taken away,
the tree stands.
Is the tree sustained by one root when all others are
cut ? Through that one root is it nourished into a perma-
nent,, if not a luxurious growth ? So one sin unmortified,
with its power over the soul unbroken, secures its final, its
eternal loss.
How manifold are the illustrations of these truths in the
Bible I Why did Balaam, who understood the will of God,
and saw the visions of the Almighty, do as he did ? Why
did Judas, after having preached the Gospel, and wrought
miracles, and been numbered with the apostles, betray his
Master ? Why did Ananias and Sapphira, and Simon Ma-
gus, do as they did ? Why did the young man, who asked
of Jesus what he should do to inherit eternal life, and whom
Jesus loved, do as he did ? In all these cases covetoiisness
was the taproot sin ; and that was uncut. 0 covetousness —
often miscalled prudence and economy, but, by God, idol-
atry— how many souls hast thou destroyed, and art thou
destroying I
But I have said that the above conversation with my
friend at the tree also explains many things frequently
occurring, and which induce doubt and hesitation.
Under the ministry of a faithful pastor sat an amiable
THE TAPROOT. 3
man, with unfailing regularity, for years. All hoped he
was a Christian. At each returning communion season it
was expected that he would profess his faith in Christ ; but
he came not. None were more tender than he seemed ; and
his pastor supposed that he was kept from the communion
of the saints only by that diffidence and distrust which are
often the accompaniments of true piety. A truer explana-
tion came at last. He loved stro7ig drink, but took it only
at night. The appetite grew until it vanquished shame, and
he became a daily and open drunkard. He forsook the
house and the ordinances of God. During the absence of
his family at church on a certain Sabbath, he drank beyond
measure- — he fell into the fire — and when his family re-
turned he was dead, and a portion of his body burned to a
cmder I Why did not this man, in the days of his tears
and tenderness, take Christ for his portion? The taproot
was not cut.
I knew a young man, who, although the child of pray-
ing parents, grew up an alien and outcast from the common-
wealth of Israel. Grace is not hereditary ; it is the gift of
God. In a spiritual refreshing, he was deeply convicted —
he hoped he was converted. He sought admission to the
church ; but fearing that all was not right, he was kindly
requested to wait until the next communion season. In a
few weeks afterwards he sat at a gaming-table until the
stars were quenched in the light of the rising sun. And he
continued until his death tenfold more the child of hell than
he was before. The taproot was not cut.
And the prevalence of some one sin — its reigning power
over the soul — is the reason why every sinner that hears
the Gospel does not believe it ; or, that believes the Gospel,
does not at once, by repentance towards God and faith in
our Lord Jesus Christ, seek the salvation of his soul. And
the remaining influence of a sin whose power has been
broken, is the reason why any Christian fails in consecrating
himself a living sacrifice to God.
Header, are you a sinner convinced of the truth of the
Gospel, without repentance, without faith in Christ ? If so,
how important to know the sin that holds you back from the
work of your salvation. There is some one sin that does
this more than any other; perhaps, more than all others.
What is it ?
4 THE TAPROOT.
What are the objects that most dehght you ? What arc
the gratifications on which you bestow most time ? Thoughts
as to what, most intrude themselves when alone ? The last
thing which the sailor throws overboard, in his efforts to
save his sinking vessel, is that which he deems most pre-
cious : what is the sin you are most anxious to retain ?
When you think of being a Christian, what is the sin, the
pursuit, the habit, that you feel in prospect would give you
the most pain to abandon ? These questions point to your
besetting sin — your taproot sin. Unless cut, you are lost.
But if old trees cannot be transplanted, may not old sin-
ners be converted ? Yes, they may. As to aged sinners, the
difficulty lies in the nature of man, and of sin, and of evil
habits, and not in the grace of God. Grace is all-conquering
when God sees fit to apply it. Reader, are you an aged
sinner ? I have seen the man, fourscore and two years old,
who bled in the battles of the Revolution, who learned its
worst vices and continued in their practice until the age
stated, hopefully converted. I have seen him brought,
trembling with palsy, in his arm-chair to God's house, and
there joining himself to the people of God ; and having com-
memorated the love of Christ, lifting up his withered hands
to heaven in thanksgiving for the mercies vouchsafed. And
his subsequent hfe and triumphant death testified that the
work was of God. But in my experience this stands out a
solitary case, to check presumption on the one hand, and
despair on the other. Take then these thoughts for medi-
tation :
1 . You have a besetting sin, stronger in its bad influence
over you than any other.
2. It is of the highest importance to you to know what
it is. Resolve to know it.
3. Reformation is not conversion. The tree stands when
all its lateral roots are cut.
4. Unless by the grace of God your heart is changed, all
is vain. The tree of evil, whose fruit is death, remains, be-
cause the taproot is not cut.
5. However aged, or wicked, there is grace and power
to meet your case. Seek them without delay, and aright,
and they are yours.
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
TO THOSE
COMMENCING A RELIGIOUS LIFE.
1. Remember that the commencement of the Christian
Hfe is hke the " dawning hght, which increaseth more and
more to the perfect day." Therefore, when the hope of
peace and pardon dawns in the heart, do not consider the
great business of hfe as accomplished, but only as begun.
2. Do not expect so sudden and remarkable a change as
to leave no doubt of its reality. Did religion enter the soul
in perfection, and to the entire exclusion of sin, the change
would be so marked and obvious as to leave no room for
doubt. But usually, there is in the Christian heart a per-
petual struggle between good and evil, and thus a continual
competition of evidence for and against, according as the
good or evil prevails.
3. Evidence of piety is not so much to be sought in high
emotions of any kind, as in real humility, self-distrust, hun-
gering and thirsting after righteousness, sorrow for sin, and
a continual effort, in every-day life, to regulate our thoughts,
feelings, and conduct, by the word of God. It is the nature,
and not the degree of our affections which is to be regarded
in the examination of our evidences. Some persons are so
constituted that they are not susceptible of very strong emo-
tions, and ought not to expect them, in reference to rehgion,
any more than other subjects that interest the mind. The
best way to know our feelings is to see how they influence
the conduct. "By their fruits ye shall know them."
4. Do not expect to find, in your own case, every thing
you have heard or read of in the experience of others. For
it may be that many things we hear and read of are not
correct feelings, and do not afford just grounds of confidence
to any one ; and if they are correct experience, it may be
the experience of a maAure Christian, and not to be expected
in the beginning of a religious life. It must be remembered
that as no two countenances are formed alike, so no two
2 TO THOSE COMMENCING A RELIGIOUS LIFE.
hearts are fashioned alike, or placed in exactly the same
circumstances ; and it would be as vain to seek all the vari-
eties of Christian experience in one person, as to seek all
varieties of human features in one face.
5. Do not expect that the evidence desired will all come
immediately, and at once. It must come progressively, as
the result of continued obedience to the will of God.
6. Do not suppose that religion is a principle of such
self-preserving energy, that when once implanted in the
soul it will continue to thrive and increase without effort.
God will not sustain and bring to maturity the work of
grace, without your own voluntary concurrence in the dili-
gent use of means, more than he will cause the harvest to
whiten in the field of the sluggard. Indulge, therefore, no
such ideas of inability and dependence on God, as shall im-
pair a full sense of perfect obligation to do whatever can be
done in working out your own salvation. God assists those
who make efforts to aid and advance themselves.
Y. Entertain no such ideas of the sovereignty of God in
the bestowment of his grace, as would awaken any doubt
of his affording needful aid where he sees sincere endeavors
to grow in grace. If some Christians are more eminent
than others, it is, perhaps, always through the blessing of
God on their more devoted efforts. It pleases him to crown
with success the hand of the diligent instead of the hand of
the slothful, not only in temporal, but in spiritual things.
This thought cannot be too strongly impressed upon the
minds of those who are just commencing the Christian life.
To them peculiarly, are such promises as these directed :
"Ask, and ye shall receive ; seek, and ye shall find ; knock,
and it shall be opened unto you. Every one that asketh,
receiveth," etc.
Do not be afraid of indulging in feelings which may
seem to be right, from the fear of deception. On the con-
trary, cherish such feelings, and try to recall them often.
Go forward in the strength of God, and do your duty, and
he will save you from deception while thus employed.
8. Do not expect to be made happy by religion, unless
you become eminent Christians. A half-way Christian can
neither enjoy the pleasures of the world nor the pleasures
of religion ; for his conscience Avill not let him seek the one,
and he is too indolent to obtain the other. The Christian
TO THOSE COMMENCING A RELIGIOUS LIFE. 3
may be the happiest man on earth, but he must be a faith-
ful, active, and devoted Christian, None are disappointed
in finding rehgion a source of unfaihng peace and joy, but
those who refuse to drink deep from the wells of salvation ;
unless we except those who, from some derangement of the
nervous system, or failure of health, do not enjoy the clear
and undisturbed exercise of their faculties.
9. Do not make the practice and example of other
Christians the standard of inety at which you aim. By this
means, a more disastrous influence has been exerted on the
church and on the world, than perhaps by all other causes
that could be named. Generally, when persons commence
the Christian life, their consciences are susceptible and ten-
der. They are strict and watchful in the performance of
duty, and are pained even by a slight neglect. They have
been wont to feel that becoming religious implies a great
change ; that " old things must pass away, and all things
become new." But when they look among their Christian
friends, and turn to them for aid, as those who have had
experience and have made advances in the Christian life,
they find that they seem to look upon duties and deficiencies
in a very different manner. They seem to neglect many
things which the young Christian has felt to be very impor-
tant ; and to practise many things which he had supposed
inconsistent with religion. Then commences the disastrous
eifect. The young Christian begins to feel that he need
not be more particular than those to whom he has ever
looked up with deference and respect. He begins to imag-
ine that he has been rather too strict and particular. He
begins to take a retrograde course, and though his con-
science and the Bible often check and reprove, yet after a
few ineft'ectual struggles, he lowers his standard and walks
as others do.
Look into your Bible and see how Christians ought to
live. See how the Bible says those who are Christians must
live, and then if you find your Christian friends living in a
diff"erent way, instead of having cause for feeling that you
may do so too, you have only cause to fear that they are
deceiving themselves wdth the belief that they are Chris-
tians when they are not. Remember, that the farther your
Christian friends depart from the standard of Christian char-
acter laid down in the Bible, the lees reason have vou to
4 TO THOSE COMMENCING A RELIGIOUS LIFE.
hope that they are Christians, And do not hesitate on this
subject because you find many professed Christians who are
indifferent and hix in their practice and example. Remem-
ber that Christ has said, ''Many shall say unto me in that
day, Lord, Lord," thus claiming to be his disciples, to whom
he will say, "I never knew you." Do not let professed
Christians tempt you to fall into the society of such unhap-
py castaways.
10. Do not be inriodical Christians. There are some
who profess religion, who never seem to feel any interest on
the subject except when every one else does. It is true,
there are special seasons of revived religion in the hearts of
all Christians ; but if it is only at such times that progress
is made in the divine life, and interest is manifested in the
salvation of souls, there is great reason to fear that what is
called religion, is nothing but sympathy with the feelings of
others.
11. Be sure that there exists a marked difference be-
tween your appearance and conduct, and that of those who
are not Christians. Remember, that Christ has required
this of you, and that even the ivorld expect it. Do not sup-
pose you can recommend religion by appearing interested
in every thing that interests those Avho have no better por-
tion than this world. Remember that your deportment,
your conversation, your interest in dress, in company, in
amusements, the manner in which you perform your relig-
ious duties, are all carefully noted and Aveighed by those
around you who do not love religion ; and if they do not
see a marked difference between you and themselves, they
either conclude that there is nothing in religion, or else that
you are a hypocrite. The people of the world expect that
you will be very different from them, and despise you in
their hearts if you are not. If you wish to recommend
relio-ion, let the world see it acted out accordino^ to the
beautiful pattern laid doAvn in the Bible, and do not suppose
that you can improve this pattern by any addition or sub-
traction of your own.
On one subject there are some who need instruction.
There is a class of Christians who appear taciturn, unsocial,
and even sad. This appearance is altogether inconsistent
with the spirit of religion. Christians ought to appear
cheerful and happy ; to appear to receive with pleasure and
TO THOSE COMMENCING A RELIGIOUS LIFE. 5
gratitude all the lawful enjoyments bestowed by their heav-
enly Father. Such a gloomy deportment as has been de-
scribed does not do honor to religion, and causes those
whom we wish to win to the ways of pleasantness and
peace, to feel that religion is a melancholy, unsocial, and
forbidding subject. All professors of religion should en-
deavor to have such views of God, his love, his providence,
his care, and should so live, as to be cheerful and happy,
and to appear so.
On the contrary, there is a class of professed Christians
who indulge in frequent trifling and levity. This is quite
as inconsistent and injurious as the former, and if any thing
it is more so. Let the Christian, at least, learn to make a
distinction between cheerfulness and levity. Remember,
we are commanded to avoid ''foolish talking and jesting,"
and that it is possible to be happy, cheerful, affable, and
kind, without any trifling or levity.
12. Remember, that your evidence of possessing rehgion
ceases when any thing else has the first place in your
thouo-hts and interests. Relioion should not lessen our
love for our friends, or our enjoyment of rational pleasures ;
but the desire to please God, in all our ways, should be the
prevailing feeling of the mind. Our Saviour says, we can-
not have two masters ; God and his service must be first in
our thoughts and aftections, or else the world and its pleas-
ures are first. If, then, we would find whose servants we
are, we must find who has the first place in our thoughts
and affections.
13. Never for one day omit to read the Bible, with prayer.
This is a most important direction. It is of the utmost
importance that you should never, for once, break through
this habit. Prayer and the Bible are your anchor and
your shield ; they will hold you firmly in the path of duty,
and protect you fi'om temptation. You had better give up
one meal every day, if it is necessar}^ in order to secure
time for this duty. You had better give up any thing else.
Nothing is a duty, if the performance of it Avill interfere with
this duty. Remember, that the Bible, under the teaching
of the Spirit, is the bread of your life, and the water of
your salvation ; and that you cannot live in health a single
day without their strengthening and invigorating influence*
14. Be regulated by a principle of duty in little thinr/s.
VOL. VTII. 8
6 TO THOSE COMMENCING A RELIGIOUS LIFE.
This is the way that common Christians are to cause their
light to shine. Few Christians can expect to do any great
things to show their love for the Saviour, but all can *' deny
themselves," and thus daily " take the cross and follow him."
Religion should govern the temper and the tongue ; should
keep us from indolence, from vanity, from pride, from fool-
ishness, from levity, from moroseness, from selfishness, and
all the little every-day foibles to which we are exposed.
Religion should exemplify its gentleness, in your kind and
affable manners ; its purity and propriety, in your conver-
sation ; its benevolence, in your conduct ; and its consist-
ency and heavenly tendency, in all your ways.
It is a most excellent method to go to some sincere and
candid friend, and inquire what are your own defects in
temper, character, and every-day deportment : and when
you have discovered these, make it the object of your
prayers and efforts to correct them.
One thing ought to be strictly regulated by principle,
and that is the employment of time. Always feel that you
are doing wrong when your time is passing unprofitably.
Have some regularity and method on this subject. En-
deavor to ascertain how much time should be devoted to
your friends and to relaxation, and to let the remainder be
all of it employed in the most useful manner you can devise.
Never be satisfied with the manner in which you are spend-
ing your time, if you can think of any possible way in which
it might be more usefully employed. Remember, that time
is the precious talent for which you must account to God ;
and if you find yourself indulging in listless inactivity, or
tempted to engage in employments of no practical use,
remember your account to God. Be in a habit of inquiring,
when you commence any employment, " Is there any thing
I can do more useful than this ?" And do not be satisfied
till you have settled the question, that you are doing all
the good you can.
15. Attempt, by your efforts and example, to raise the
standard of piety and activity. If all who are now com-
mencing the Christian life should make this an object, and
not fall into the temptation which professed Christians so
often set before the lambs of the flock, the church would
indeed soon rise before the world, " fair as the moon, clear
as the sun, and terrible as an armv with banners."
TO THOSE COMMENCING A RELIGIOUS LIFE. 7
Resolve to be an example to those who ought to be an
example to yon, and take the Bible, and the Bible only, for
your guide in forming the Christian character.
Be active in promoting all benevolent objects. Make it
an object to prepare to lead with propriety, Avhen necessary,
in all social devotional duties. At this period, when prayer
and effort must unite in hastening the great day of the
Lord, let every Christian learn to guide the devotions of
others, as well as to lift up his own private supplications.
There is nothing which so much promotes the " brotherly
love" required in the Bible, and nothing which so much
promotes union of effort and interest, as social prayer ; and
every one who commences a religious life, should aim to be
prepared to perform such duties with propriety, and should
stimulate others to engage in them.
16. Do not hesitate in the performance of all the exter-
nal duties of a Christian, because you do not find satisfac-
tory evidence that your feelings are right. Religious duty
consists of two parts, feeling and action ; and because we
find great deficiency in one respect, we surely ought not to
neglect the whole. It is as imreasonable as it would be
not to attempt to feel right till every external duty was
perfectly performed. If we are dissatisfied with our evi-
dence, let us go on and do every thing that a Christian
should do, as the most hopeful way to gain right feelings.
We surely cannot hope to bring our hearts right by neg-
lecting our outward duties.
17. Remember, that the principal duty of a Christian,
as it respects others, is to excite them to the immediate per-
formance of their religious duty. Jesus Christ has insti-
tuted his church in the world, that through its instrumen-
tality the perishing may be saved. There is no Christian
but can find some one mind, at least, over which he can
have some influence ; and if we can do any thing to save
others from eternal death, nothing should for a moment
prevent our attempting it. We should persuade our friend
immediately to give a serious and earnest attention to the
subject, to search the Scriptures, with prayer for divine
illumination, and to give the affections and the heart to God.
Lastly, do not be discouraged because you find that
you are very deficient in every one of the particulars specified.
Remember, that the Christian life is a warfare, and that it
8 TO THOSE COMMENCING A RELIGIOUS LIFE.
is only at the end that we are to come off conquerors, and
more than conquerors. Remember, that He Avhom you
are striving to serve and please is not a hard master.
Though you have been inexcusable in the commission of
any sin, and all the difficulties you find are of your own
making, yet he can be " touched with the feeling of your
infirmities." When He sees that you really are afflicted
because you so constantly abuse and forget him, he pities
you " as a father pitieth his children ;" and so long as you
use the means he has appointed to keep you from sin, and
wait upon him for strength and guidance, he will never
leave nor forsake you. When you feel your own strength
and resolution failing, go to him who hath said, "My grace
is sufficient for thee, and my strength shall be made perfect
in weakness." Call upon him, "and he will be very gra-
cious unto the voice of thy cry : when he shall hear it, he
will answer thee. And thine ears shall hear a word behind
thee, saying, This is the way, walk ye therein, when ye
turn to the right, and when ye turn to the left." Remem-
ber, also, that the conflict is short ; the race will speedily
be accomplished. Soon your deficiencies and guilt shall
pain you no more ; soon you shall " see him as he is," and
"awake in his likeness to be satisfied therewith."
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
i\o. ^63.
INDECISION IN RELIGION,
*' Hoiv long halt ye between tivo opinions ?^^ said the
prophet EHjah "unto all the people" — "if the Lord be
God, follow him ; but if Baal, then follow him," 1 Kings,
18:21; and thus God now addresses all who are undecided
in his service. In calling attention to this divine appeal, I
shall take it for granted, that the reader receives the Scrip-
tures as the rule of faith and practice ; that he recognizes
the great truths they- reveal of man's ruin by sin, and sal-
vation only through faith in a divine Redeemer and by the
renewing of the Holy Ghost ; and that he acknowledges
the duty of putting his trust in Christ : while yet, through
indecision, the subject of his own salvation is neglected. I
remark, then,
1. Such indecision is criminal. It is criminal, because
the relations which we sustain to God and the Scriptures,
which teach us our duty, alike demand immediate service.
We are under oblio^ations which never rested on the
highest archangel. He, like us, has received his all from
God, and is bound to render it to him again. But he was
never a rebel against his Maker ; never exposed to everlast-
lasting woe. For his redemption God never sacrificed his
only Son. To rescue him from perdition, the Lord of glory
never left the bosom of the Father, veiled his deity in clay,
submitted to all the sufferings a rebel world could heap
upon him, and shed his blood upon the accursed tree. To
secure to him the offers of this salvation, no band of apos-
tles spent their lives in toil ; no train of martyrs sealed their
doctrines with their blood ; no church has been preserved,
with all its institutions, for eighteen hundred years, amidst
the wiles of Satan, the flames of persecution, and the still
VOL. VIII. 8*'
2 INDECISION IN RELIGION.
more destructive ravages of internal conflict. But for us
worms of the dust, guilty and polluted, all this has been
done ; and it has been effected, too, by God our Creator,
Jesus our Redeemer, and the Holy Spirit our Sanctifier.
We are the beings towards whom all this benevolence has
been manifested ; to whom all this grace is offered. And
does not this bring us into a relation to God which demands
our constant, our eternal service ? Surely, then, it requires
the immediate performance of duty. And in perfect con-
formity to this conclusion are all the requisitions of the Bible.
In its injunctions it makes no provision for any delay.
It anticipates no such delay. In its precepts it declares
what is, not what will be duty. In its commands it is no
less decisive. "My son, give me thine heart." "Remem-
ber now thy Creator, in the days of thy youth." " God
now commandeth all men everywhere to repent." And the
language of St. Paul is, *' I beseech you, therefore, breth-
ren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a
living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your rea-
sonable service."
Indecision in religion is further criminal, because the
Scriptures point out our duty with sufficient plainness.
The sum of their instructions to us sinners is, that Ave
repent, and believe on the Lord Jesus Christ. Every one
knows what it is to be sorry, to avoid whatever has been
the occasion of his sorrow, and to pursue, in future, a dif-
ferent course. Repentance consists in exercising genuine
sorrow for sin, an absolute forsaking of all sin, and the ex-
ercise of love and obedience to God. And faith, Avhich the
Gospel requires, consists in an unwavering belief, or an im-
plicit confidence in all the record God has given of his Son,
accompanied with corresponding affections and actions, love
and obedience. Are not these duties intelligible? Will
any one say he has difficulty in understanding them ? The
Bible says to every individual, '* These do, and thou shalt
live."
But if the claims of God upon us, the manner in which
INDECISION IN RELIGION. 3
he has made known his will, and the actual knowledge we
possess of our duty, are such as they have been represent-
ed ; if God has not only created and supported us, but has
given his Son to redeem us by his blood ; if he has written
our duty, as it were, with a sunbeam before our eyes, and
we are constrained to acknowledge that we do understand
it, is there no criminality in neglecting to comply with it ?
Does indecision upon this plain, this momentous subject,
incur no guilt ? What should w^e think of the child, whom
the highest degree of parental kindness could not excite to
the performance of a single duty, and who should pay no
other regard to the injunctions and entreaties of the most
affectionate parent, than the cold compliment, " They are
proper, I may sometime attend to them ?" "Who would not
pronounce him a monster of ingratitude and disobedience ?
And yet the obligations of a child to his earthly parent bear
no more proportion to our obligations to God, than man, a
worm of the dust, bears to the infinite Jehovah. Inasmuch,
then, as all the motives which urge us to the discharge of
Christian duties at all, urge us to their immediate perform-
ance, we see both the fact and the reason that indecision in
the case is criminal.
2. Indecision in religion is dangerous. It is dangerous
from the uncertainty of life. Our salvation must be secured
while life continues, or it is lost for ever. This life is short
at the longest. Still, were Ave certain of living to advanced
age, the danger of delay would not appear so great. But
when we reflect on the proportion of our race who are
swept away in middle age, in youth, and even in childhood ;
when we consider how suddenly disease may prostrate these
frail bodies, to how many fatal accidents we are every mo-
ment exposed, and how often, in the midst of all their pur-
suits, God says to unheeding mortals, " This night thy soul
shall be required of thee," Avho, that has not fled to the
blessed Jesus, can indulge a thought of safety ? Who, that
is not determined to make religion his first, his constant
business, dares presume to hope for heaven ?
4 INDECISION IN RELIGION.
Again, indecision is dangerous on account of its injluence
in hardening the heart. All our active faculties are strength-
ened by exercise ; but passive impressions always leave that
part of the system on which they are made, enervated, and
less liable to be again affected by the same cause. The
soldier, -whose blood almost freezes in his veins at the first
explosion of the cannon, after the exchange of a few shots
scarcely remembers that he is upon the field of death. The
surgeon, whose visage whitened, and whose whole frame
trembled at the sight of an ordinary wound, after a few
years' practice can calmly amputate a limb, or trepan a
writhing patient. Not less evident are the effects of this
principle of our nature in steeling the heart against religious
impressions. The child hears a few words respecting the
infinite God, or a boundless eternity, and his eyes are suf-
fused with tears. When he has arrived at the season of
youth, and has often heard these subjects discussed, he is
not so easily afiected. Still, he is tender. Impressive ser-
mons, or alarming providences, seize upon his heart, and
tears yet steal from his eyes. But go with him to the pe-
riod of middle age, and he is seldom seen to weep. Every
thing that should arouse his attention to the concerns of eter-
nity, has become so familiar that nothing makes any percep-
tible impression. He can stand unmoved, even before the
exhibition of that scene which shook the earth to its centre,
and clothed the heavens in sackcloth. Follow him to the
confines of second childhood. This season, it might natu-
rally be supposed, would be favorable to seriousness. It
might be expected that the honors, the riches, and the
pleasures of the world, would now lose their hold upon his
heart, and that the near approach of eternity would cause
its scenes to produce upon his mind the eflfect of realities.
But what is the fact ? It is believed that futurity dwells
less upon his mind than at any former period. It is true,
as his system grows feeble, a degree of tenderness returns.
But, is he affected, it is in view of the past. Does he weep,
it is at the recollection of youthful scenes, which, even then,
INDECISION IN RELIGION. 5
produced no lasting effects upon his mind, and are much
less likely now to leave any salutary impression.
If this is the common course where divine grace does
not interpose, Avhat are the natural effects of indecision in
the case ? It not only leaves a person exposed to all this
train of consequences, but that very state of mind itself has,
perhaps, a more powerful tendency to harden the heart than
any other state into which the mind can be thrown. When
truth is forced upon the understanding, and obligation
pressed upon the conscien<ie, the man is deeply affected.
He is on the point of resolving. Though to obey he has
no heart, yet refuse compliance he dares not. But the
moment the expedient of delaying the decision occurs to his
mind, he has at once an opiate for every uneasiness ; a shield
always at hand, with which to resist every dart from the re-
monstrances of conscience, and every arrow from the quiver
of divine truth.
How powerful, hoAV fatal, then, is the influence of inde-
cision in hardening the already depraved heart, and in less-
ening the probability that it will ever become the subject of
renewing grace.
But once more, indecision in religion is dangerous, be-
cause it tends directly to iwovoke God to remove from us his
Holy S2nrit. God says, " My Spirit shall not always strive
with man." The Scriptures speak of those who are left to
hardness of heart and blindness of mind. If we believe
the representations of the Bible with respect to the deprav-
ity of the heart, we must be assured that the moment the
Holy Spirit is finally withdrawn from any one, his destruc-
tion is inevitable.
God has not only made provision for our salvation at
infinite expense, and offered it without money and without
price, but in compassion to our stupidity and obduracy, he
grants us the influences of his Spirit, to enlighten our under-
standings, to awaken our consciences, and to aftect our hearts.
But if we treat with listless indifference that divine Agent, on
whose operations our eternal all is suspended, what, in the
6 INDECISION IN RELIGION.
sight of God, must be the import of such conduct ? Is it not
saying, in the most decisive language, " Depart from us, for
we desire not the knowledge of thy ways ?" What can be
more provoking to the infinite Jehovah ? What more cal-
culated to induce him to withdraw from us his Spirit, and
leave us to our own hearts' desire ? And should he do this,
with regard to any of us, the consequences must be inde-
scrihahly dreadful.
No matter how much instruction we might receive, it
would only serve to pour light upon the understanding,
against which we should be continually sinning. No matter
how long Ave might live, it would only be to fill up the
measure of our iniquities. No matter how much we might
enjoy Christian society, and how near to heaven we might
be exalted by~our privileges ; they would only serve to sink
us lower in the pit of despair, and render the recollections
of neglected mercy a thousandfold more insupportable.
How highly, then, does it become us, with deep humility,
with unfeigned penitence, with determined resolutions of
obedience, to raise, with the Psalmist, the earnest supplica-
tion, " Lord, take not thy Holy Spirit from me,"
I have thus considered the criminality and the danger of
indecision in religion. Faint as the representation has been,
the subject must appear important. Let it, my dear reader,
have all the weight on your mind which its importance
demands.
But perhaps the reader is conscious that he is one of
those who remain yet undecided in the great concern of re-
ligion, and still "halting between two opinions." Allow me,
then, to say to you, " One thing thou lackestT And that
is emphatically, the one thing needful. An object, in com-
parison Avith which, crowns are but toys — worlds are but
bubbles.
Suffer me, therefore, to use the utmost plainness, while I
attempt to prevail on you to abandon the dangerous ground
on which you are resting, and to take a position more favor-
INDECISION IN RELIGION. 7
able to the attainment of your highest good. You are
firmly convinced that religion is necessary, and that, to be
happy, you must possess it sooner or later. With rehgious
truth, too, you have become familiar. But it makes only a
shght impression on your mind. You have therefore con-
cluded that you must wait until God shall pass before you,
in some remarkable event of his providence, or in some sig-
nal display of his grace : then you presume your attention
will be excited ; then you shall become a devoted Christian.
But suffer me to ask, my dear friend, on what basis is
this presumption founded? If the thunders of Sinai, the
mercies of Calvary, and the retributions of eternity have
hitherto produced no effect upon your mind, what can you
suppose will ever arouse you ? Will Sinai again be clothed
in terror ? Must Calvary again be crimsoned with the blood
of an expiring Saviour ? Shall the Holy Ghost dictate a
new revelation, to portray in livelier colors the indescriba-
ble destinies of the world to come ? Or must the angel of
death tear from your embrace the dearest object of your
affections, and thus cause your eyes to weep, and your heart
to bleed ? Any of these scenes w^ould be solemn. They
would be awfully affecting. But with an undecided heart,
like the Jews who beheld the crucifixion of their Lord, you
might witness them without one holy affection, without one
religious impression, and even with a tenfold degree of
hardness.
The character of God, the relations w^e sustain to him,
and the ceaseless mercies we receive from his hand, are
motives ever before us, Avhich should impel us to obedience.
Bring them distinctly before your mind. Revolve them in
the house, and by the way ; when you lie down, and when
you rise up. And should you find within your bosom a
heart unmoved by all these claims, a heart that, in view of
so much excellence, so much love, so much mercy, can feel
no gratitude, render no obedience, consider, I beseech you,
what must be the character of that heart, and treat it ac-
cordino- to its desert.
8 INDECISION IN RELIGION.
Fear not to charge home upon it all the guilt which
such astonisliing insensibility incurs, and determine to allow
it no peace till it shall yield unreserved obedience. And
cease not day nor night to cry to the Father of your spirits,
that he would take from you this heart of stone, and give
you a new heart of flesh.
Contemplate also the wonders of the day in which you
live. It is a day in which operations are rapidly advancing
for the conversion of the world. Recolkct the claims of
God upon those who have enjoyed the Gospel, to commu-
nicate it to the multitude who are perishing for lack of vis-
ion. And can you remain inactive ? Consider the glory
that will redound to God, and the happiness which will
accrue to men, from these efforts of Christian love. And
can you rest satisfied without any part or lot in the work,
or with what you can do without faith in Christ, or love to
the souls of men ? Think of the tide of mercy that is roll-
ing through the earth, bearing thousands and millions on
its waves to heaven. And can you sit at the very gates of
the New Jerusalem, and not make one effort, not form one
resolution, to participate in its bliss ?
But I forbear. I cannot doubt that more than the
half-formed resolution — I will not doubt that the full inten-
tion to become a Christian is already struggling in your
breast. O let it be a present determination. Purposes of
future amendment are of no avail. They are at best but
delusion. Were crowns presented, deliberation would be
safety. Were kingdoms proffered, hesitation would be
prudence. But in the momentous concerns of eternity,
experience has demonstrated that delay is presumption,
that procrastination is death.
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
!V©. 364,
GEORGE LOVELL
AN AUTHENTIC N"ARRATIVE.
-"-^^^^^^
There are some passages in the life of an individual of my
acquaintance so interesting and striking, that they ought not
to be withheld from the public eye. They deserve the name
of co?ifessio7is, and I know no more suitable channel for their
conveyance than the pages of a tract. George Lovell — for
by that name I will introduce to my readers the true history
of the subject of this narrative — was the cliild of a pious
mother and a moral father. His father was once inclined
to Universalist or Unitarian sentiments, but the serene and
steadfast example of his beloved wife, enforcing the Gospel
truth which he heard every Sabbath from the pulpit, wrought,
under God, an entire change in his speculative sentiments.
At the birth of George, his mother, like Hannah, could say,
' Fo?- this child I irrayecV He was not only consecrated
VOL. VIII. 9
2 GEORGE LOVELL.
to God in fervent and believing prayer, but by a similar
reach of faith to that which adorned the mother of Samuel,
was consecrated to the work of the ministry. " / have lent
him to the Lord. As long as he liveth he shall he lent to
the LordT Lent, that is, returned, according to the literal
translation. Happy mother — happy mothers, I may say.
How many are now rejoicing with then- sons preeminent
in glory, who were first in the ranks of the church militant
here. I need only mention, as representatives of the brill-
iant catalogue, such names as Timothy, Augustine, White-
field, Wesley, Edwards, Doddridge, D wight, whose infancy
blossomed, whose youth ripened beneath the smiles and
tears of maternal piety. There is no feature in the pic-
ture of domestic beauty so attractive as that of the pious,
anxious mother, watching the expanding mind of her child,
that it may seize the preoccupying influence of heavenly
truth. It is work for an angel. Each lesson is a seal for
eternity. Thus was George instructed. There was not an
individual in the family who had any sympathy with the
pious toil of the mother ; but her task was softened and
relieved by the recollection of other mothers who had
gone before her, and by the anticipation of her heavenly
reward.
There may be said to be a time when the care of the
child naturally transfers itself from the mother to the father ;
I mean that period when the severer studies are to become
objects of pursuit. Mrs, Lovell had done her part in the
fear of God, and in the faith of his promises. No indica-
tions of piety, however, were observed in her son — nothing
beyond that general sobriety which is the result of careful
moral training. This, too, was occasionally disturbed by
sallies of temper, which too plainly demonstrated the wick-
edness that is "bound in the heart of a child." The spirit
of disobedience also at times burst through the frail bar-
riers of education and example, and compelled the father
to exercise the stern seveiity of the rod.
GEORGE LOVELL. 3
When Georfre had reached the as^e of sixteen, death cast
his deepest shadow over that lovely family, by removing
her that was its light and its ornament. The wife and the
mother were no more, but the Christian, the saint, lived
with God in heaven. George was called from school to
witness the dying struggles of his beloved mother, whose
triumphant faith bespoke a spirit " quite on the verge of
heaven." That hour, with its sad accompaniments, could
never be effaced from his recollection. The natural heavens
w^ere darkened by a rising storm ; clouds dense and black
rolled on clouds ; peals of thunder long and deep, rather
than sudden and loud, resounded along the sky ; and in the
midst of these solemn and sublime exhibitions of nature,
the soul of the dying Christian took its flight to the region
of everlasting peace and repose. It seemed like death and
judgment combined. But while their sombre images were
presented to the mind, another image, even that of the
triumph and security of the redeemed soul, served to gild
the scene with a bright and tender ray, and to diffuse con-
solation throughout the afflicted family.
A class of sensations entirely new now took possession
of the bosom of George. He felt himself motherless. For
the first time in his life he knew what it is to be a mourner.
Death had taken companions from his side, but never be-
fore had laid his icy hand on his heart. Every fibre of that
heart shrunk at the touch. Can it be, he silently asked
himself, that I have no mother ; no mother to love me, to
guide me, to pray for me ? Reader, have you ever lost a
mother ? If you have, you understand me when I say it is
then that the man, the woman, becomes a child again — not
in weakness, not in the evanescent emotions of childish age,
but in affection, in passion, in principle, in all that is beautiful
in filial love. Then, every remembered act of disrespect, of
disobedience, of neglect, pains the soul with more than child-
like sorrow — a sorrow scarcely relieved by the more grate-
ful recollection of kindness rendered and duty discharged.
4 GEORGE LOVELL.
The seriousness of George Avas enhanced by ill health
He imagined, though as the event proved without founda-
tion, that the fatal germ of the same disorder under which
his mother sunk existed within him ; and while he expected
soon perhaps to follow her to eternity, he shuddered at the
thought of the endless separation that would imbitter that
eternity to his lost soul. Such a prospect as this, super-
added to the thought of an early death — of earthly hopes
crushed in the bud — of separation from loved friends and
companions here — of the utter uselessness which the event
of death would stamp on all those labored acquisitions
which were great in his own eyes — of soon leaving all in
this life that was brilliant in promise — such a prospect, I
say, was of itself sufficient to hasten the decay, if not the
dissolution of a constitution at no time remarkable for
vigor.
He had no discernment of the spiritual beauty and con-
solation of those words which were among the last on the
lips of his expiring mother, and which were engraven on
the marble of her tomb : *' Yea, though I walk through the
valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou
art with me ; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." He
felt like a lonely wanderer amid vast and comfortless soli-
tudes. When he saw the funeral preparations, when the
pastor came to condole with the bereaved family, when
friends came to mingle their sympathetic tears, and espe-
cially when the first movement was made by the bearers to
transfer the cold and coffined remains of that saint from the
table to the bier, from that sweet living home to the home
of the dead, how did the sadness of his heart grow deeper
and more painful. Then the deep-toned toll of the church-
bell, as the procession began to move, vibrated on his heart
with a new and strange effect. The hollow sound of the
loose earth, as it fell upon the coffin — how saddening ! And
when he returned home, and saw his disconsolate father
and mourning sisters, all in their sable drapery, all the sub-
GEORGE LOVELL. 5
jects of undissembled grief, he felt that with this eternity
he had much to do.
Rehgion, he now thought, was the most desirable thing
on earth ; the absolutely necessary thing for heaven. At
times he prayed ; he wept alone ; he confessed on his
knees his sins to God. No earthly ear heard one of his
sighs or groans ; no mind suspected that the sadness of his
countenance was any thing but the effect of natural grief
for the loss of a beloved friend. He was treated accord-
ingly. He was sympathized with, but not addressed as an
anxious sinner. Nothing was done by his pastor to draw
out an expression of his feelings. He preached a solemn,
beautiful, and eloquent funeral sermon, which justly com-
memorated the exemplary virtues and the triumphant faith
of the pious dead ; but he gave no private personal warning
to the impenitent living. And this, too, at a time when
the hearts of eight children were, like the softened wax,
susceptible of any impression. Kindness and tenderness
were among the qualities of this excellent man ; but he
could not, or would not, administer pointed reproof and
warning. He was to be commended rather for his pulpit-
excellence than his pastoral faithfulness. Yet this last was
what George stood in perishing need of. He told me it
was his firm belief, that if he had been faithfully dealt with
at that crisis, by him who had the charge of his soul, or
by the professed people of God, he w^ould, by his blessing,
have yielded ; if the way of salvation had been shown to
him, he would, with his aid, have walked in it. He knew
not what he must do. He scarcely knew the nature of his
own feelings. Time, however, seemed as nothing to him —
eternity as every thing.
When the first effervescence of sorrow had in a measure
subsided, George resumed his studies preparatory to his
entrance into college. Possessing an active mind and a
keen relish for the dead languages, he studied night and
day the Latin and the Greek, with no interruption save that
VOL. VIll. 9*
6 GEORGE LOVELL.
the image of his departed mother would often cross the
page on which his mind w^as intent. The shghtest associa-
tion would call it up w^ith great force and tenderness, nor
did it begin to fade from the mental eye, so long as he con-
tinued near the scene of her death, or the spot of her burial.
With this image there never failed to be connected the idea
of her piety, her prayers, her heavenly walk, her faithful
instructions, her dying admonitions. But against the con-
centrated force of all these, the enthusiasm of study pre-
vailed, and my friend preferred the honors of scholarship
to the blessings of Christianity. How often has he won-
dered that the Spirit of God did not at that critical period
bid him a final, a returnless farewell ! How often has such
a crisis sealed up for ever the hopes of youth !
The time soon ai'rived when he was to leave home, and
enter the walls of a college — a sphere entirely new — encir-
cled with temptations, not merely to the indulgence of intel-
lectual ambition, but of gay companionship, of — what shall
I call it ? — gregarious indolence, of fun and folly, of many
thincrs which no p'overnmental laws can restram or reach ;
which nothing but the predominant spirit of religion can
control. Surrounded as he was by thoughtless young-
men, courted and caressed by the best scholars, proud of
his own capacities of attainment, he might have fallen a
victim the very first year of his collegiate life, but for two
things.
The first was, the remembrance of his sainted mother.
No hving voice could have spoken with more impressive
effect to his conscience, than did the silence of her grave.
She had taught him to reverence the Sabbath as none but
God's — as the keystone of all civil and sacred institutions —
the day when it becomes an absolute duty to turn the mind
from secular to sacred subjects. Accordingly, under the
influence of an enlightened natural conscience, he regularly
devoted the more private hours of the Sabbath to books of
a strictly spiritual character. He had, however, a sufficient
GEORGE LOVELL. 7
amount of good sense not to mistake good acts and habits
for real spirituality of mind. At the same time he might
be said to indulge a kind of self-iighteous hope that he was
in a fair way to the kingdom of heaven.
The second circumstance which- powerfully restrained,
and even highly excited him, was a religious revival which
commenced during the last term of his first year in college.
He had contracted, before this revival commenced, a fond-
ness for what he then thought the innocent, but afterwards
knew to be the pernicious amusement of ^ancing. Having
once tasted the gay and guilty^ pleasure, his love for it be-
came excessive. Excessive and extravao-ant it mio-ht well
be called, since he was wilhng not only to sacrifice his time,
but his very soul for it. It Avas the reluctance to give up
this foolish, but fascinating amusement, that baiTed all ac-
cess to permanent serious impressions ; and George has told
me that it was the conviction of his own mind, that he
should have embraced religion in tliat revival, had not his
passion for this new-found pleasure absorbed every other
consideration.
He that has witnessed a revival in a college knows how
peculiar is its character. The intellectual standing of its
subjects, their local contiguity, the solemn regularity of the
devotional exercises, the fact that all are young men, the
stillness of every occurring scene, the energy of religion
working through the social principle, which exists so strong-
ly in classes, and in the tenants of the same room — all these
circumstances, combined with the certain prospect that each
one of these anxious youth is to exert an influence upon so
* Guilty, because it dissipates the time and the mind, opens the
door to licentious imaginations, wastes money that mig-ht be bet-
ter appropriated, encourages the use of wine and strong drink,
ba^iishes serious reflection, promotes levity, folly, and useless
conversation, indisposes to prayer and reading the Bible, incites
infatuated youth to ridicule the ministers of religion and pious
Christians, and leads on the soul to perdition.
g GEORGE LOVELL.
many immortal minds, serve to render the place and tlie
occasion awful in the highest degree.
There was one occasion on which George absolutely
trembled under the powerful exhortation of a member of
the Junior class, and let fall such expressions as inspired
hope among the Christian students that he w^as the subject
of serious impressions and convictions. But these feelings
soon departed. There was but one member of college, now
a devoted and self-denying missionary in a foreign land,
who dared to vi^t him in his room, and address him indi-
vidually on the subject of his soul's salvation. Would it
have been believed that the opposition of a heart so trained
as was George's, would have flashed out under the kindly
warnino-s of such a friend ? Yet such was the fact. He
hated the person of his ad\4ser. And what was this but
hatred of God ? How true, that " the carnal mind is enmity
against God !" He outlived his convictions. He survived
the revival, unaffected by its renovating powder. He Avas of
course prepared to relax even the formal strictness which
was the result of his religious education.
In the second year at college he made a retrograde step
in point of the observance of the Sabbath. From reading
spiritual books he passed by an easy transition, which sat-
isfied his conscience, to the reading of the more serious kind
of poetiy, such as Young's Night Thoughts, Milton's Para-
dise Lost, etc. This he persuaded himself could not be
wrong on the Sabbath. Without entering into the question
of the moral rectitude of reading such works on the Sabbath,
it is sufficient to say, that he who is satisfied with mere
works of taste, however solemn the drapery which envel-
opes them, must be far from the kingdom of heaven. The
third year found him ready for another step, to read Shak-
speare, Dryden, etc. By the fourth year he could coolly git
doAvn to the reading of novels and plays of all kinds. Se-
rious books were utterly forgotten — literary ambition had
full possession of his soul — the memory of his mother ceased
GEORGE LOVELL. 9
to exert its beneficent power, and my friend was about to
drift away upon the uncertain sea of life, when the star of
Bethlehem arose.
" That star alone, of all the train,
Can fix the sinner's wandering eye."
He was sitting alone in his room on the Sabbath, having
indulged himself with absence from church for the purpose
of devoming a favorite novel, when his mind was suddenly
arrested by the Holy Spirit, and the whole current of his
thoughts instantaneously diverted from their earthly chan-
nel towards the awful things of eternity. He was alarmed,
highly excited, distressingly convicted. He thought he had
received a summons to the bar of God, He expected in a
few moments to die. He paced the room in a frenzy of
despair. He threw himself upon the bed, and with the
fearful earnestness and energy of a dying man, pleaded in
piteous accents for mercy. He seemed to tremble on the
verge of life, and felt all the horrors of dying alone, without
comfort and without hope. When the tumult of his feel-
ino^s had in a measure subsided, his reflections, thouo-li less
confused, were keen and painful ; not the less so, from the
fact that they were constrained in his own bosom. Pride,
or shame, or something kindred to these, compelled him to
lock up the distressing secret, while the strange change in
his appearance was attributed by his friends to bodily sick-
ness. The very mention of the word death agitated his
soul to its inmost centre. He relinquished his studies, and
returned home. He prayed and wept night . and day in
secret, still afraid of his impending doom, and afraid to
disclose his feelings to any individual. He passed his min-
ister without daring to speak. When he lay down to sleep
at night, he expected to awake in hell ! At length, by a
mighty effort, he called a pious sister aside, and with a burst
of tears, which mingled with her own at the recital, he
fold his convictions. She threw her arms around his neck,
10 GEORGE LOVELL.
and continued to weep for joy at such intelligence. The
deceiver, however, was busy with his temptations. Be-
tween the constraining convictions of his conscience, and
his love for the world, there was a deadly struggle. Could
he give up all for Christ ? As if resolved to let tempta-
tion try its worst with him, he stole out by night, under
all the pressure of his convictions, and took his way to a
ballroom, where an assemblage of his well-known compan-
ions were engaged in the dance. He entered the room,
brilhant with lights, gay with music, and ghttering with
the attractions of beauty and fashion. He stood and gazed
upon the scene. He was welcomed with the smiles of the
young and the beautiful. " Can I give this ujpV^ he in-
wardly asked himself. It Avas a moment big with eternal
consequences. The scales were equally balanced between
heaven and hell. One decisive act would probably settle
his destiny for ever. In this perilous extremity, mercy pre-
vailed in the very face of rebellion. " / will give up the
world — / luill decide for God,'' he thought within himself,
and turning round, he rushed out of the chamber, nor ever
again turned his face to the folhes and amusements of the
world.
The night on which George renounced the ballroom,
with its splendid and attractive amusements, was one of
thick darkness to his soul. It might, perhaps, have been
expected that such a renunciation would be immediately
followed by a surrender of his heart to God, if, mdeed, it
were not the consequence of such a surrender. But I have
too often learned in my intercourse with the awakened, that
they are willing to give up, sometimes with alacrity, some-
times with reluctance, one thing after another, if they may
but reserve the very thing which first of all God requires —
the heart. Revivals of religion tear away many things from
the sinner, while he still refuses the supreme love of his
soul to the great object on which it should be bestowed. I
have kno\vTi Universalists give up, under the influence of a
GEORGE LOVELL. H
revival, their fatal, flattering doctrine, and there stop, I
have known Deists, under the same influence, honor the
revelation of God, without submitting their souls to its
power. I have known the drunkard transformed to a sober
and temperate citizen, without being transformed into a liv-
ing Christian. I remember to have seen the moral man,
perhaps the most difficult case, compelled by the " force of
truth" to acknowledge the righteousness of Christ as the
only possible ground of hope, without building on that
glorious basis. I have seen, also, the gay beauty, to whom
the charms of this world's amusements were struck dead
by this holy influence, turn from them in disgust, but not
to lift her ravished eye to the glories of religion. I rec-
ognize in these facts a most powerful demonstration of
tlie collateral good effects of revivals of religion, but I rec-
ognize also that melancholy character — an almost Chris-
tian.
George had liked to have been an almost Christian.
He gave up his amusements, for how can they " minister
to a mind diseased?" He gave up his irreligious associ-
ates ; his studies ; his ambition ; his convivial frolics ; his
liopes for this life ; his every thing but — the heart. Here
was the struggle — the bitter agony. He saw hell before
him ; for when he arrived at home he feared to walk across
the floor, lest it should open beneath him a passage to the
abode of the damned. He felt that "sting of death,"
Avhich is " sin," beyond all the acuteness of mortal agony,
for it was sharpened by "the law." He turned to look
after the cross of Christ, of which he had read, but saw
nothing, save dense and threatening clouds, like those
which enveloped the brow of Calvary in the hour of the
crucifixion.
And while he thus groaned beneath the load of his dis-
tress, what think you, beloved reader, was the means — the
simple means of his release and his relief?^ A letter — a
plain, humble letter, from a Christian minister. This kind
12 GEORGE LOVELL.
friend, having learned from his sister the state of his mind,
immediately sat down and "svrote him a clear, plain, and
faithful letter ; delineating the nature of genuine conviction,
describing the path through which the sinner must return
to God, and urging him without a moment's delay to com-
mit his soul to Jesus Christ. He read it with eagerness ;
his heart palpitated — his eyes filled with tears — he dropped
the letter on the floor, sunk on his knees, and poured out
his soul in believing prayer to God. That moment, to use
his own expression, " a flash of glory from the cross struck
athwart my soul — such as, while memory lasts, I can never
foro:et. It tilled me with amazement at the mercy of God.
It subdued and melted me into a delicious submission to
the will of God and the merits of Jesus Christ. He seem-
ed a precious — precious Saviour — all my salvation and all
my desire."
Such was his account of the memorable scene. The
time — the place — the circumstances of the event — the event
itself — seemed in his narrative like a present, living reality.
Nothinof could exceed the enthusiasm with which, at the
distance of years, he related the circumstances of his con-
version. He now read the Bible with a new and strange
delight. Its pages, before dark and uninteresting, were
now full of light and love. Tliey were luminous with Je-
sus. Not that neAv light was in them, but he had new eyes
to discern that light. He loved to spend much time in
aff'ectionate prayer to God. He felt a peculiar, an earnest
regard for Christians. He longed for the salvation of sin-
ners. He thought and believed that he could convince all
of the excellence and loveliness of Christ. He rose, as
opportunity presented, in meetings, and exhorted all to em-
brace that Saviour in wliom he found such ''joy unspeak-
able." He even cast a longing eye towards the sacred desk,
though he felt himself at an immeasurable distance from
that awe-inspiiing station.
It was e\idcnt, however, to his friends, that God in-
TEORGE LOVELI,. I3
tended to make use of him for his glory. And now with
what deep emotion did he and they remember his early
consecration by his sainted mother to the holy ministry of
the Gospel ! Truly, in his case, it could not be said that
" praying breath was spent in vain." His venerable grand-
mother wept for joy at her first interview with her favorite
grandson, after his return to God. He repaired with re-
newed vigor to his college studies and exercises, and though
there was a period when Satan tempted and prevailed
with him to yield to an unholy declension, the faithful re-
proof of a Christian classmate was blessed in rousing him
from his sinful dream. Chastised and humbled by the
affecting remembrance of his sins, mortified to the very
soul that he should so soon wander from his kind Saviour,
and grieve the Holy Spirit, he commenced anew the Chris-
tian course, and gave fresh promise of piety and usefulness.
He graduated with the full honors of the best of his class,
and at the public commencement excited the highest hopes
among his friends and the friends of religion. His father,
indeed, having been long in political life, and a distinguished
citizen of the commonwealth of , would have pre-
ferred that the son of whom he was so proud should seek
the post of civil honor and distinction ; but with character-
istic wisdom, and a kind policy, shaped in a measure per-
haps by a tender regard for his departed wife, he declined
interfering with the inclinations of his son, or counteracting
the advice of Christian friends. He had great confidence
in his abilities, having had occasion to peruse well-written
compositions of George at the age of thirteen, at which age
also he had left him for months in the sole charge of his
business.
In a few weeks George, having previously made a pub-
lic profession of religion, entered the Theological seminary
at , with a deep and awful impression of the sacred
work to which he felt himself called and devoted. He
pursued his studies with diligence and ardor, and after
VOL. VIII. 10
14 GEORGE LOVELL.
three years entered, with great zeal and delight, into the
work of preaching the Gospel.
He was in due time ordained to a pastoral charge, and
I rejoice to be able to say that, during the ten years of his
ministry which have elapsed, he is believed to have been
instrumental of the conversion of about one thousand
souls, some of whom are themselves preachers of the Gos-
pel, and some also have been, and are eminently useful as
laymen. Occupying an important and responsible station
in the church, he is still engaged in that glorious work to
AVHICH HE WAS CONSECRATED AT HIS BIRTH BY HIS MOTHER,
and called in the fulness of time by the faithful covenant
God of his mother.
Fathers, mothers, what you have read is literal fact,
without embellishment or exaggeration. Can you say,
" For this child I prayed?" Look at that hud of immor-
tality, which is imfolding itself at your side. Water it
with your tears. Breathe over it your prayers. Watch it
day and night. Present it to God. Surrender it up, not
only without the shadow of a mental reservation, but with
the full energy of faith ; and, through the blessing of the
Holy Spirit, it shall not only bloom in beauty here, but
vield the fruits of everlastino- iwhteousness hereafter.
Of George Lovell's conviction of sin, he said to a friend,
referring to the anguish of his mind on a Sabbath in his
last year at college, '• I wish you may never be obliged to
experience the horrors of a guilty conscience as I did.
What material fire, though it should blaze with sevenfold
intensity, could ever inflict such pains as I felt that day ?
I could not doubt but the Saviour meant by ' the worm that
never dieth,' the stings of an ever-living conscience ; nor
that he knew all that Avas, or was to be. in the liuman
heart."
GEORGE LOVELL. 15
" Can 3^ou specify the feelings you then had," said his
friend, " and which you think were conviction of sin ?"
" Can I ever forget them, you should rather ask, when
they rose in my mind with such appalling minuteness ? I
will state them in order.
1. "I clearly saw the justice of God in sending me — as
I supposed I was going — to hell. I not only understood,
but felt my doom to be just. All good and holy beings
seemed to approve it.
2. "I could not see how it was possible for me, possess-
ing the character I did, ever to hold any communion with
God, ever to look upon him as a pleasant being, or to take
any complacency in him. To banish myself as far as pos-
sible from his presence, however w^-etched the alternative,
I felt would be comparatively desirable. I felt that, although
the righteous ' hath hope in his death,' I must justly be
* driven away in my wickedness.'
3. " Li the course of the four weeks' solemn reflections
which ensued, agitated as it often was with the most gloomy
forebodings, I was led deeply to abhor the whole tenor of
my past life. Among the things which pained me were
broken resolutions, violated promises, abused mercies, de-
liberate delays, disobedience to maternal admonitions, neg-
lect of the Bible, and, in general, utter forgetfulness of God,
or not remembering him in any sense which could be ac-
ceptable to him.
4. " My heart was deeply aftected with my ingratitude
to God. This sin for a time seemed to absorb others, and
I wept and prayed, and confessed the black ingratitude of
my life to so good and kind a being as God. * Against
thee, thee only have I sinned, and done this evil in thy
sight, that thou mightest be justified w^hen thou speakest,
and be clear when thou judgest.'
5. '' I felt astonishment that any sinner could for a mo-
ment remain unconcerned, w^hen he had every reason to
believe he had not made his peace with God.
16 GEORGE LUVELL.
6. "I was convinced that I deserved to suffer the exe-
cution of the full penalty of the law, which pronounces its
curse upon all those who do not render it personal, per-
petual, and perfect obedience. Gal. 3:10. I felt the force
of the truth, ' the law is our schoolmaster, to bring us to
Christ.' I writhed under the severity of its rod. I was
sore with its chastisement ; I felt my whole head sick — yes,
my 'whole heart faint.' When this commandment came,
sin revived, and I was ready to die. Had I been willing
at once to die, as to all hopes of solid comfort and genuine
happiness, except in the abounding merits of Jesus Christ,
I should not have hesitated about renouncing all at once.
I should not have lingered around any of the scenes of my
former follies and iniquities, and, like the wife of Lot, looked
back upon my darling pleasures in Sodom, while the mes-
sengers of mercy were hurrying me to a place of refuge
from the impending storm."
In turning to God he experienced, 1. A peace of mind
which he had never before enjoyed. 2. Joy in the service
of God. 3. A contempt for the things of the world. 4.
Admiration of the character and work of Christ. 5. Fond-
ness for prayer. 6. Longing desires for the salvation of
sinners. '7. A sense of reliance on the perfect merits and
finished righteousness of Christ.
The obstacles which, after thirteen years' experience, he
has found most powerful to resist the sanctification of the
soul, are, 1. The strong influence of remaining sin. 2.
Failure in the regular discharge of the duties of secret de-
votion. 3. The company and conversation of lukewarm
professors, or of friends who are indifferent to religion. 4.
Neglect of self-examination, 5. Superficial reading of the
Bible. 6. Want of habitual contemplation of the charac-
ter of God.
JVo. S65.
DUTIES
CHURCH-MEMBERS,
BY REV. THOMAS H. SKINNER, D. D,
Every man who would have a conscience void of offence,
should understand his various obligations and duties. What
duties are of higher importance than those of members of
the church of God ; and yet w^hat duties are more generally-
neglected? As this neglect may in some measure arise
from not well knowing or justly appreciating these sacred
duties, we shall devote the following pages to a brief con-
sideration of them.
Our subject is, the duties of church-memhers as such.
These persons may be regarded as members either of the
church universal, or of some particular and local church ;
belonging to one, they belong to both ; and as they are
viewed in one or the other of these relations, a correspond-
ent view will present itself of the character and deportment
that become them.
Regarded as members of the universal church, as fellow-
citizens with saints of all ages and places, as of the house-
hold of God, embracing his holy family both in heaven and
earth, what manner of persons ought they to be in all holy
conversation and godhness : how peculiar, how different in
spirit, in purpose, in pursuit, in manner of life, from the
world around them, that lieth in wickedness. Am I a
VOL. VIII. 10*
2 DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS.
member of the church and general assembly of the first-
born which are written in heaven ? Am I of God's house-
hold ; of the same family with Abel, and Enoch, and Noah ;
with Abraham, and Moses, and Samuel, and Elijah, and
all the prophets ; with Paul, and Peter, and John, and all
the apostles, and martyrs, and saints in light ; men of whom
the world was not worthy ? And shall I live amongst men
like a citizen of the earth, minding earthly things, walking
after the flesh, and fulfilling sensual aims and desires ? No
more a foreigner and a stranger to this holy society, ought
I not to be as a foreigner and stranger to the world ?
But the better way to obtain definite and useful impres-
sions of the character becoming members of the universal
church, is to view them as belonging to some distinctly or-
ganized portion of that church : our thoughts will thus fix
upon distinct classes of duties, and we cannot fail to obtain a
more just conception of the obligations arising out of church-
membership, taken either in the larger or narrower sense.
1. One branch of the duty of every church-member, as
such, relates to the ^:>astor of the church. He is himself a
church-member, and may claim from his Christian brethren,
in common with themselves, whatever reo-ard that desiojna-
tion gives a right to. Nor should intelligence, moral worth,
and amiableness of manners, be unacknowledged in him,
more than in another man. But there are special reasons
why the members of a church should hold their pastor in
respect.
He is to them, and with their own consent, the messen-
ger and minister of Christ, an ambassador of God, whose
official acts, rightly performed, have their seal and sanction
in heaven.
Besides, he ought, at least by his own people, to be
DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS. 3
highly esteemed in love for his Avork's sake, the object of
Avhich is the advancement of their everlasting good, and
the measures and methods of which are, of all others, the
most laborious and wasting to flesh and blood ; including
deep and continual meditations, preaching in season and out
of season, numberless spiritual conferences with individu-
als and families, and daily solicitudes about the success of
his work. Let Paul, in two places, instruct you in this
respect. " We beseech you, brethren, to know them which
labor among you, and are over you in the Lord, and ad-
monish you, and esteem them very highly m love for their
work's sake." 1 Thess. 5 : 12, 13. And again, ''Obey
them that have the rule over you, and submit yourselves ;
for they watch for your souls as they that must give ac-
count." Heb. 13 : 17. The detail of the duties comprised
in this obligation thus generally enforced, cannot be neces-
sary. Let it be in the spirit of a church-member to esteem
his pastor very highly in love, and to obey him in the Lord ;
and he Avill need no illumination as to particular duties
under this head.
2. Certain men, in many churches, are called to assist
the pastor in government ; and these persons will receive
peculiar regard from every worthy church-member. Their
station is not held for their own sake, but as necessary to
the peace and prosperity of the people. And as a state
dishonors itself when it does not hold its own officers in re-
spect, so every church-member is divided against his church,
and does it dishonor, who behaves himself unseemly towards
these brethren while discharging their appropriate duties.
These duties, and the correlative ones of the people, need
not be here minutely specified : a docile and well-disposed
mind can hardly mistake them. This only let me say, that
4 DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBEUS.
when a member of the church disdains to receive admonition
from those authorized to give it, as occasion requires, or
when he speaks of them contemptuously, or carries himself
proudly towards them in any way, he reproaches his pro-
fession, and is a scandal to the church.
3, The members of a particular church ought, if possi-
ble, to acquaint themselves ivlth one another. Some churches
are so large that it is almost impracticable for each member
to make himself acquainted with all the rest ; and there are
persons in almost every church who, from various causes —
some from humility, some from pride and worldliness of
spirit — keep themselves so much away from their brethren
as to make acquaintance with them difficult ; and there are
unworthy members, who are yet not liable to excommuni-
cation, with whom spiritually-minded Christians cannot, and
ought not to be familiar ; but that members of a church
ought to know one another, as a general principle, cannot
be questioned.
Associated with them in the same communion, and united
to one another, like the members of the body, according to
St. Paul's illustration, alienation and strangeness seem al-
most unnatural. Professing sameness of character, of spirit,
of interest, of hope ; professing to have their hearts occu-
pied and swayed by that pure love which rules in heaven,
and meeting together in the same place several times every
week ; joining their hearts and voices in prayer and praise ;
communing together often at the Lord's supper ; cooperat-
ing in various voluntary associations for the furtherance of
their common cause ; mingling thus together continually in
holy places and services, how immeet, and but for its com-
monness I had almost said unlikely, that they should scarce-
ly know each other's names and countenances.
DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERk?. 5
Unrestrained intimacy and familiarity, siicli as idlers and
busy bodies, who go from house to house, and other ill-bred
persons, practise, is as undesirable and unchristian as it is
vulgar and uncivil ; nor is it to be expected or wished, that
the lines by which the several classes in society are circum-
stantially separated from each other, should run into one,
and be undistinofuishable in the church's enclosure. Thouo-h
"the brother of low degree should rejoice," as being in
Christ ''exalted," and "the rich," as being "made low,"
yet their different degrees, low and rich, remain. Similar-
ity of condition, education, cast of mind, habits, prescribes
rules for classification and intercourse, not less among Chris-
tians than others ; and utility as well as propriety, is mani-
festly consulted by observing these rules ; and hence there
should, and needs must be, circles of different degrees of
acquaintanceship in the same church. But that there ought
to be among all the members that kind and fraternal feel-
ing, Avhich makes mutual access easy, and gives free scope
for the prompt exercise of Christian sympathy and fellow-
ship as occasions may require, and leaves what degrees of
acquaintanceship with each other remain among them, re-
solvable into some other than a blameworthy cause, is clear
to every one's sense of right, and fitness, and duty.
4. The law of hrotherly love should have special sway
over the members of a church. This law, as being enforced
with new and unparalleled motives, was Christ's neio com-
mandment to all his followers ; obedience to which would
demonstrate their discipleship to a Master in whom love to
them and to all mankind was so powerful a principle. And
if it be so necessary for all Christians to cultivate the love
of one another, shall members of the same church neglect
it and be guiltless ? Shall they meet, and sing, and pray.
6 DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS.
and commune together, from week to week, and year to
year, and yet be at heart cold and strange to one another ?
If the chiu'ch be very large, it may be with love, as
with personal acquaintance, each may not be able to form a
vivid and confidential affection for every one of the rest ;
and members of a certain class, earthly-minded and incon-
sistent members, cannot be the objects of brotherly love,
which is the love of complacency, delight in Christ's image
in his saints. But with these restrictions, if the members of
a church are not kindly affectioned towards one another in
brotherly love, they are, as a community, devoid of spiritual
comfort, dignity, and strength ; forsaken, in a great meas-
ure, by the Holy Spirit, and in danger of irretrievable de-
clension.
The true glory and might of the church is brotherly
love. It was this aflFection, as exhibited by the first Chris-
tians, that enabled them to make their triumphant way
against the united powers of hell and earth, and to extend
the kingdom of their Lord, before that generation passed
away, to the utmost bounds of the civilized world. And it
was the want of brotherly love among the professors of
Christianity in after-periods, that led to those divisions and
desolations by which the course of the church, thenceforth
until now, has been marked ; nor will the waste places of
Zion be repaired, and her boundaries be enlarged, as proph-
ecy requires, until she again clothes herself in the beauty,
the majesty, and strength of brotherly love.
5. The members of a church ought to cherish a lively
symjoathy for one another. Persons so related should take
a deep interest in each other's happiness ; should bear each
other's burdens, and enjoy each other's blessings. They
should have the same care one for another ; and whether
DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS. 7
one member suffer, all the members should suffer with him,
or one member be honored, all the members should rejoice
•with him. When the members of a church are indifferent
towards each other's sorrows, and envious of one another's
prosperity, they can have but little evidence in themselves
of belonging to Him who " carried our sorrows," and died
for our sins ; and they certainly give none which is con-
vincing to the world.
6. It is incumbent on church-members to seek each
other's spiritual advancement and edification. If any be
overtaken in a fault, they who are spiritual ought to restore
such in the spirit of meekness, considering themselves lest
they also be tempted. If any be in spiritual trouble, they
who have endured like conflicts ouQ-ht with o-reat tenderness
and sympathy to counsel and encourage them. If any are
feeble-minded in the faith, the strong should endeavor to
confirm them. If any go astray, they ouight to be sought
after by those who observe their wanderings, or who are
best fitted to reclaim them. And in general all the mem-
bers should pray for and with one another, admonish and
exhort one another, consider one another to provoke unto
love and good works ; and cheerfully employ their graces
and gifts to the edification of the church, keeping order as
to manner and time, and taking in all respects due heed to
themselves.
Yet, have we not to lament that there are many
such unprofitable and unworthy members, who show no
concern whether religion flourishes in the church or de-
clines ; whether their fellow- members walk worthily or un-
worthily of their privileges ; whether the Holy Spirit does
or does not utterly abandon them to desolation and destruc-
tion ? Some are hindered from taking an activ^e part in
8 DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS.
furthering the church's good, by nervous timidity ; some
by false modesty and diffidence ; some by worldly pride ;
and some by entire want of the life and power of religion.
Let just discrimination be made ; but let all such church-
members examine well the reasons of their indifference.
V, Every church-member should heedfully avoid and
resist all causes of alienation and division among his fellow-
members, endeavoring, as the apostle enjoins, " to keep the
unity of the spirit in the bond of peace." If it be the duty
of Christians, as much as lieth in them, to live peaceably
■with all men, it is much more their duty to live peaceably
with all Christians ; and more so still, with all who belong-
to the same church with themselves. " Behold, how good
and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in
unity;" but this is not a more agreeable spectacle than
that of a divided brotherhood is painful and revolting.
A divided brotherhood of Christians, among whom so
many peculiar causes require that there be but one heart
and one soul ! Is such a state of things consistent with the
church's progress in spirituality ? Are Christians growing
in grace, or laboring successfully for the advancement of
the Gospel among themselves, when they are divided
against one another in spirit ? It is impossible. The heav-
enly dove has flown away from these contenders ; and now
what do they gain from the ministrations of the Gospel and
its ordinances ? How serious, how sacred, then, the duty
of shunning or resisting the first appearance of wiiatever
has a tendency to produce division ; and w^hat greater mis-
chief-makers can be found than its authors ? There may
be, indeed, such general corruption in a church, that purity
of spirit and fidelity of action may be inconsistent with
peace ; division may be that church's only hope. But even
DUTIES OF CHURCII-MEMBERS. Q
in such a case, to faithfulness should be joined meekness,
and gentleness, and all those kind graces by vvhich, if pos-
sible, division may be avoided.
When members of a church are captious and censorious ;
when, instead of confessing their faults one to another, they
carry themselves as if they had no faults of their own, and
treat others as if they had nothing but faults ; when they
withdraw themselves from their own assemblies on the pre-
text of their not being conducted in the proper spirit ; when
they secretly alienate their fellow-members from the pastor
and those who help him in government ; Avhen they aim to
nourish a party in the bosom of their church, and introduce
or favor measures and proceedings known to be unwel-
come— in all these instances, they sow the seeds of discord,
and prove themselves the children of contention and confu-
sion.
8. Every member of a church who walks orderly, and
according to his covenant with God and his brethren, will
pay regular attendance on the ministrations of the word and
ordinances. Allowance being made for extraordinary and
unlooked-for hinderances, it is as much the duty of every
church-member to attend the stated meetings for pubhc
worship, as it is the pastor's duty to conduct the exercises
of those meetings. In a general view, the truth of this
remark is instantly manifest. The stated meetings of a
congregation may be too numerous, especially during sea-
sons of remarkable revival, to admit of their being all
attended by every member; and when they are so, every
member ought not to be expected to be always present.
But when they are not more numerous than custom in all
the churches requires ; when there is but one weekly ser-
vice besides the meetings on the Sabbath, and that service
VOL. VIII. 11
10 DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS.
is deemed essential to the spiritual interests of the congre-
gation, habitual attendance on all the stated meetings is
not more the pastor's than all the people's duty. For if
some may justifiably forsake the assembling themselves
together, so may others, and so may all.
Strong excuses, I know, are thought to be urged by
some. They plead their engagements in benevolent labors
and societies ; but if that plea will suffice in some cases, it
will in others ; and our weekly lectures may soon be almost
entirely deserted. But that excuse ought in no case to be
received. Our benevolent societies must not induce neg-
lect of the soul ; and the soul is neglected when the ser-
vices of the sanctuary are forsaken. The number and
labors of those societies, instead of justifying us in less fre-
quent and engaged approaches to God, in his house, make
such approaches more necessary. The business of those
societies may be performed without devotion or piety ; and
is, or doubtless will soon be so performed, if the peculiar
services and hours of piety be not solemnly observed. If
this business makes us inattentive to our hearts, it will pre-
vent the salvation of our souls, though called benevolent.
There are no inconsistencies in the kingdom of God, no
clashinor of duties with duties ; and since the duties of the
sanctuaiy are, by universal consent, unchangeable and
necessary, those of benevolence cannot require them to be
neglected.
It is the duty of every member of a church to bear his
just portion of the church's necessary expenses. It is the
will of God that they who preach the Gospel should live
of the Gospel. Their maintenance, therefore, is obligatory
upon the church, and a share of the burden falls on every
church-member ; for if one may exonerate himself, so may
DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS. H
every one. And why should any one refuse to obey this
ordinance of God ? Why is not the laborer in this case
worthy of his hire ? Does he render useless service ? Is
it useless to watch for souls, and to feed God's heritage
with divine knowledge and understandings? "If we have
sown unto you spiritual things, is it a great thing if we shall
reap your carnal things ?" And if the ministers of Christ
give their whole time and strength to the service of the
church, whence is their support to come if the church
withhold support ? Why should theirs be the only case
in which recompense for labor should be thought undue ?
''Who goeth a warfare, at any time, at his own charges?
Who planteth a vineyard, and eateth not of the fruit
thereof ? Or who feedeth a flock, and eateth not of the
milk of the flock?"
But besides the support of the pastor, there are other
expenses incident to the continuance of a church, which
ought to be distributed in just proportions among the mem-
bers. The relief of poor brethren, keeping the house of
God in order, properly conducting the sacred music, atten-
tion to the external convenience and comfort of the assem-
bly in time of worsliip, all demand, and ought to receive
pecuniary contribution from every church-member Avho does
not live by charity. And that member of the church who
enjoys the chm-ch's privileges, and bears not his part of her
burdens, but leaves these to be sustained by others, sets an
example of inconsistency, not to say dishonesty, which, if
followed, would abolish the being of the church.
10. It is binding on every church-member to cooperate
with his brethren in their exertions for the furtherance of
the Gospel in the world. This, next to the glory of God, is
the highest end and purpose of churches. If it may be
12 DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS.
truly said of private Christians, they are " the salt of the
earth," they are "the light of the ^vorld," with greater
emphasis may it be said of local churches. If a private
Christian is required by the law and spirit of his religion to
spend and be spent for the conversion of the world, is not
the same thing required of a number of Christians associated
together in a church ? Ought not these Christians, in their
holy and happy pale, to take counsel with each other, and
devise the best plans for exerting their utmost combined
strength for the advancement of the Gospel among those
who, are without it ? Surely, a church that contents itself
Avitli seeking its own promotion, loses sight of its proper
aim and design, and wants, m a lamentable degree, the
spirit of its Saviour and his religion. This is now manifest,
and it begins to be generally acknowledged by the church-
es; and there are societies in almost all the churches
formed to aid in the glorious w^ork of converting the world
to God.
And what worthy church-member can refuse to take
part in the contributions and sacrifices of these truly Chris-
tian societies ? Can the refuser vindicate his conduct, when
if all should imitate his example, the efforts of Christen-
dom for the propagation of the Gospel would come to an
end? He cannot. When he joined the church, he virtu-
ally covenanted to cooperate with his fellow-members in
the necessary exertions for the spread of the Gospel, and if
he had not so covenanted, the spirit and precepts of the
religion he professes oblige him.
But are these societies necessary ? They are. Without
Bible societies, how can the Bible be printed and distrib-
uted in all the languages of the earth ? Without mission-
ary societies, how can living teachers be sent among the
DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS. 13
nations? Without education societies, how can men be
trained in sufficient numbers for the work of the ministry ?
"Without tract societies how can the mass of the people be
imbued with divine knowledge? And without Sunday-
school societies, how can the rising generation be rescued
from corruption and ruin ? All these societies are neces-
sary. God has need of them all. And the demand of God
is not met by that member of the church who does not
contribute to their support according to his ability.
11. Finally, every member of a church ought to
strengthen the influence of church discipline, by concurring
in the just censure that may be pronounced against delin-
quents. What can bring backsliders and scandalous mem-
bers to repentance, if the disciphne of the church, solemnly
administered, cannot ? For church-members to impair the
power of this benevolent instrumentality by taking part
with the scandalous, is cruelty to them, as well as rebellion
against church order. Scandalous persons, persons whose
disorderly walk exposes the Christian profession to reproach,
are apt, in their deadness and stupidity to all spiritual
things, to despise ecclesiastical censure. And is it worthy
of a professing Christian to encourage such persons in their
fatal infatuation ?
Now, having endeavored, under the guidance of the
Scriptures in every particular, to set forth the duties of
membership in the church of God, let me very briefly urge,
in conclusion, some of the considerations which demand the
faithful performance of these duties.
1. The strength, prosperity, and usefulness of the church,
depend, under God, on her individual members discharging
the obligations which their relation to her imposes and im-
VOL. VIII. 11*
14 DUTIES OF CHURCH -MEMBERS.
plies. Let church-members be faithless, and what is the
church herself but a mass of corruption ? The light of Zion
then shines, and her glory is come, and the world feels her
reclaiming and sanctifying influence, when her sons and her
daughters are in all respects dutiful and true to her, and
to one another. But let it be otherwise, and the light of
the world is quenched ; the salt of the earth has lost its
saltness, and is thenceforth good for nothing but to be
cast out and trodden under foot of men. What persons
living exert an influence so injurious, or do as much harm,
as unfaithful and disorderly church-members ?
2. You are bound by covenant and contract to perform
these duties. Such a contract you have entered into both
with the church and with God. Your baptism declares
that you are under vows to the Lord, to walk in all his
commandments and ordinances ; and you renew these sol-
emn engagements whenever you partake of the Lord's sup-
per. How sacred are your obligations to be an exemplary
church-member : how great your guilt if you are not !
" When thou vowest a vow unto God, defer not to pay it ;
for he hath no pleasure in fools : pay that which thou hast
vowed. Better is it that thou shouldst not vow, than that
thou shouldst vow and not pay." Consider what influence
your engagement would have upon you, if it were merely
a worldly covenant, lawfully ratified and confirmed, between
yourself and your fellow-men. You would not, even in
that case, disregard it. The fear of the world's contempt
and punishment, if not a sense of probity and self-respect,
w^ould make you mindful of youi* obhgation. And will not
the fear of eternal contempt and shame ; will not love to
God, and gratitude to Christ, and the pleasure of a good
conscience, and the hope of heaven, keep you from violating
DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS. 15
the solemn duties lo the church, which you are bound, by
covenant both with God and man, to fulfil ?
3, Your conduct in this respect is the true test of your
personal piety. You have no sufficient cause to think your-
self truly pious, if you shght your duties as a member of
the church. What are you the better for calling Christ
Lord, Lord, if you do not the things which he commands
you ; or for professing to know God, if in works you disown
him ; or for having the form of godliness, if you deny its
power ; or for walking in the garb of a Christian, if you are,
in example, an enemy to the cross of Christ? And are
you obedient to Christ's commands, do you not disown
God in works, do you not deny the power of godliness, are
you not practically an enemy of the cross of Christ, if you
are regardless of the sacred obligations of church-member-
ship ? What good evidence of personal holiness can they
have, who, belonging to the household of God, care nothing
for the order, and the peace, and the honor of that house-
hold? Are they not enemies to all righteousness, who
thus violate the most awful of all the relations of righteous-
ness ? Who are wicked, who are unprincipled, who are
disobedient and to every good work reprobate, who have
consciences seared as with a hot iron, if not those members
of the church who make light of the responsibilities and
duties of members? AVhat is the religion of such per-
sons, but an abomination, a mockery in the sight of God,
and a stumbling-block to the world ? Of all persons the
most hopelessly hardened, according to both observation
and Scripture, are unfaithful members of the church. And
hence I remark, finally, that,
4. Of all persons these are they whose destruction loill
he the most fearful. They will not only perish, but perish
16 DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS.
more terribly than others. They will be cast out of the
kingdom of God ** into outer darkness, where are weeping,'*
and wailing, " and gnashing of teeth." This, by express
declaration of Scripture, is the doom of false-hearted and
unfaithful members of the visible church. None sin as do
they, and none, other things being equal, will be punished
so severely. " The sinners in Zion are afraid ; fearfulness
hath surprised the hypocrites. Who among us shall dwell
with the devouring fire ? Who among us shall dwell with
everlasting burnings ?"
LOYE TO THE CHURCH.
I love thy kingdom, Lord,
The house of thine abode.
The church our blest Redeemer saved
With his own precious blood.
If e'er, to bless thy sons,
My voice or hands deny,
These hands let useful skill forsake.
This voice in silence die.
If e'er my heart forget
Her welfare or her woe.
Let every joy this heart forsake.
And every grief o'erflow.
For her my tears shall fall.
For her my prayers ascend ;
To her my cares and toils be given.
Till toils and cares shall end. watts.
]¥o. 206.
BLIND BETSEY;
OR,
COMFORT FOR THE AFFLICTED
AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE.
The writer was for many years intimately acquainted
with the subject of this narrative, in which every statement
may be relied upon as a matter of fact, being given, as
nearly as possible, in her own simple words.
She was born of pious, but poor parents, in the West
of England, had been early taught to read the Scriptures,
and had committed to memory many of Dr. Watts' hymns
and his catechisms. For this blessing she ever expressed
the warmest gratitude to God, after the affliction which
deprived her of sight at the age of thirteen. For some
time she contrived to write a journal with her own hand.
Her spelling was defective, but the letters were better
formed, and the lines more uniform, than those not observant
of the ingenuity of the blind would suppose possible. A
few extracts will convey the state of her mind.
" The Lord has deprived me of sight to read his blessed
word, but I bless him that he continued it to me so long ;
and above all, that he has given me a glimmering of spirit-
ual sight, which is far better. AVhen I had bodily sight, I
was too apt to think it my own, but it was a horroived fa-
vor. I suffer much pain, but if I have a minute's ease, I
will ascribe it to the goodness of the Lord."
Betsey's loss of sight was attended with extreme pain ;
and during the first year of her blindness, she describes
herself as "blind, both in body and soul." She remarks,
**I knew nothing of divine things, till it pleased God to send
a seizure in my knee : the pain was very great, so that I had
2 BLIND BETSEY.
no rest by night or by day. Then the Lord began to work
upon my mind with terror. I thought I might be taken off
suddenly, and having no hope, I knew that I must then be
for ever miserable : I had hell in my conscience." '' I prayed,
* Lord, be merciful to me a sinner. Oh what must I do to
be saved?'"
She was tempted to fear it was too late for her to seek
pardon, till a few days afterwards a friend read to her the
I7th chapter of John. She says, " Every word came to my
soul quick and powerful as a two-edged sword. My soul
was then set at liberty, though my sins were numberless as
the sands upon the sea-shore. Jesus has washed them all
in his precious blood. Eternity was no longer dreadful. I
saw Jesus was my Saviour. Satan, that busy enemy, re-
newed his suggestions, but I was enabled to prostrate my-
self at the foot of the cross, and he fled from me. ' The
blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin.'
' His name, and love, and gracious words,
Have fixed my roving heart.' "
Soon after this period she writes, " Though I cannot see
to read a word in the hook, yet sometimes I have such sweet
texts of Scripture come to my mind, as though spoken to
me with power, that it bears my burden up. Those Chris-
tians who are blessed with bodily sight, cannot sufficiently
prize the privilege. When they are burdened, they can go
and look to the blessed word of God : let them praise God
for it, and I will praise God that he applies his own words
to my soul, though he has taken my sight."
She attached great value to the word of God, always
requesting her friends who visited her, to read to her some
portion of that " golden treasury," and uttering most earnest-
ly her desire that they would not neglect to peruse it for
themselves ; adding, " Oh, I would give all I possess, or ever
shall possess in this world, for one half hour s sight, to read
part of that blessed book myself!"
She remarks in her diary, " My pain is very great, but
I can rejoice in my pain, and bless God for my affliction.
BLIND BETSEY. 3
If I had a thousand souls, and a thousand bodies, I would
give up all to the hands of my Lord, to do with them as he
pleases."
When she was about fifteen years old, she was again
permitted to attend public worship. Her knee gave her
great pain, but with much difficulty she walked to the house
of God ; this being the time when she first publicly avowed
herself to be a disciple of Christ. Her lovely expression
of countenance will never be forgotten ; she looked like one
whose heart, as well as eyes, were closed upon the world.
Some time afterwards she wrote in her diary, " In my
first setting out on my heavenly journey, I was kept in the
golden path : I little thought what hard conflicts I should
have with my wicked heart and the temptations of Satan,
that busy enemy of my soul. I fear lest I should grieve
my dear Redeemer, but I will pray to the Lord for grace
to withstand all the temptations of the adversary."
Her sufferings were more severe than language can de-
scribe ; but she says, *' Though the Lord hath allotted me a
thorny path, he gives me strength equal to my day ; there-
fore will I rejoice in my affliction. Sometimes, when I have
been in company with the people of God, I have longed to
tell them what God has done for my soul, but Satan has
silenced me ; he suggests that I have been speaking peace
to my soul, and tells me it is all a delusion. Constantly
should I strive against this enemy, lest he should get my soul
into prison, then all would be darlcT
After three years' endurance of most acute pain in her
knee, a suppuration took place, followed by mortification,
which brought this poor girl apparently to the brink of the
grave. Caustics were applied daily, and it was thought
nature could not support the abundant discharge. In
speaking of this memorable period, she says, " I then felt a
little of the sting of death, and stood shivering on the brink ;
yet I could rejoice under all my affliction, because the Lord
Jesus was precious to my soul, and I was enabled to cast
my burden upon him."
About ten months after this period she had a siniilar
4 BLIND BETSEY.
attack in the other knee, which threatened the same prog-
ress of disease, and of as long continuance. It was sug-
gested by her medical attendant, that amputation would be
the most probable means of continuing her life: she listened
with humble desire to know the will of God, and was able
to look to the painful operation even with comfort ; for she
says, " The Lord strengthened me, and made me feel his
strength in my weakness." On the day she was removed
to the hospital, she says, "I felt myself happy ; it did not
belong to me to murmur, since the Lord had laid it upon me.
He has said, ' Fear not, for I am with thee ; I will sustain
thee.' I left all in my Lord's hands. The world was then
nothing to me ; and when carried into the surgical room, I
felt no wish either to live or die. The Lord carried me
through, and supported me under the operation in a won-
derful manner." On this painful occasion not a groan es-
caped her lips — scarcely a sigh ; and when the operators
whispered, " She does not feel," she calmly rephed, " I
feel, but I have supports you know nothing of."
A young student in the hospital saw and was deeply
affected by her great serenity ; he afterwards took every
opportunity of visiting her bedside while she remained there.
She felt great interest in him, and prayed earnestly that
God would give him that light which he needed, to show
him who made he?' to differ, and wherein that difference
consisted. She said she ''never felt her heart so much
engaged in prayer for another." And what encouragement
is there to fervent prayer. The young man died before her,
but left a testimony of the blessed effects of this blind girl's
conversation and example, to which he owed, under the
blessing of God, his salvation.
The following extract from Betsey's diary, is almost the
last written by her own hand. Subsequently to this, in
consequence of losing the use of her right arm after six
years' painful illness, she engaged some kind friend as her
amanuensis. " I have not known what it is to be one day
free from pain, but I can praise my blessed Lord for all my
psin. ' All things work together for good to them that love
BLIND BETSEY.
God.' I trust lie has given me to love him. Therefore
I trust all things will work together for my good and his
glory. I have lost my sight, lost one of my legs and the
use of the other, and am in great pain by night and day ;
weak in body, and given over by the physicians ; yet all
is for my good. I wish to lie passive in the Lord's hands,
and know no will but his. I want to lose my wicked heart,
and to depart and be for ever with the Lord ; but his time
is the best time. I find that the temptations of Satan and
my own wicked heart sometimes threaten to overcome me.
I have many doubts and fears. I am the vilest of the vile,
and can cry out with the publican, ' Lord, be merciful to me
a sinner.' Yet I hope, through the blood of Jesus, I shall
at last breathe my soul into his bosom, and, dying, clasp
him in my arms, the antidote of death."
She was, however, continued nine years lonofer in this
world of suffering, in mercy to many souls, who date the
com.mencement of their religious course to her bright example
of patient endurance, nay, even joyful reception of her
Father's rod ; while many, very many, have had their faith
and love strengthened by communion with this afHicted child
of God.
In the ninth year of her protracted illness she says, " I
have lately been brought through a very painful operation
in the taking out of my right eye, and the Lord is in infinite
loving-kindness heating the furnace still hotter. My knee
is in a very dangerous state, and I am again ordered to the
hospital. What the Lord is about to do with me I know
not, but my times are in his hands ; he is a present help in
every time of need, and a stronghold in the day of trouble.
Christ the Rock is my refuge in every storm of affliction ;
my shield, my hiding-place in every temptation ; my strength,
my strong hold, my high tower, my defence, when the bil-
lows roll around. Jesus, the good Pilot, in his own time,
will conduct the little bark safe into the heavenly port, and
not a wave of trouble shall again cross my peaceful breast ;
there I shall praise Jesus without interruption, and join with
all the heavenly host to sing the wonders of his love. While
VOL. VIII. 12
6 BLIND BETSEY.
I am in this body of sin and death, my treacherous heart
and the great enemy of souls interrupt me in my best ser-
vices, and I cast many a wishful eye and longing heart to
the heavenly Canaan, to see my dear Redeemer, and drop
this clog of clay."
At another time she remarks, " I find the promises to be
my meat and drink, my comfort in every trial ; upon them
I can rest, and feel steady reliance upon the Lord Jesus,
though I am the vilest of the vile.
" I thought to have joined the triumphant song before
this time, but I am still called to experience wearisome
nights and days ; a few months ago I expected I was just
about to enter the heavenly harbor. In the nearest view of
eternity, my soul was fixed upon Jesus, the Rock of ages ;
I looked for death as for a chariot to convey me to glory,
to occupy my heavenly mansion, to see my dear Saviour in
his full beauty, and to have done with sin and every care ;
but the Lord in infinite wisdom keeps me a little longer in
this vale of tears. His ways are hidden in the deep, and
^ast finding out; but he governs the armies of heaven and
of earth by the counsel of his own will. The Lord has
taken the use of my limbs, one after another : let him take
what he pleases. I will praise his name."
Truly did she realize the fulfilment of the promise, " As
thy days, so shall thy strength be," which such passages as
the following Avill prove. " I find, daily, fresh supplies of
bodily pain ; but, blessed be the name of the Lord, I find him
a present help, and I can leave myself in his hands, to do as
seemeth him good. I am still called to endure much pain,
but my Father, who aflSicts me with one hand, upholds me
with the other. I have for some time been kept in a humble,
steady rehance upon the Lord Jesus. I find the prospect
of heaven a heaven worth suffering for ; and surely the po5-
session of heaven is a heaven worth waiting for : yet a little
time, and he will come, and will not tarry. I shall see my
soul's delight in his full beauty ; yet I trust I can say, ' all
the days of my appointed time will I wait till my change
come.'
BLIND BETSEY. 7
" I am daily waiting till the Lord shall please to stretch
out his alroighty hand, and break the vital string, which I
believe shall be my unspeakable gain. ' Though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no
evil.' I trust he will make the waters of Jordan shallow,
and give me an abundant entrance into the joy of my Lord.
" Though my bodily pain daily increases, yet I find my
Jesus is strength in weakness, light in darkness, and his
smiles sweeten every cross. My life is as a stormy winter,
one tempest following another makes the cottage shake ; the
winter of my life will pass away, and my eternal summer
soon dawn. The breaches cheerfully foretell this tabernacle
must soon fall. I rejoice to feel it dissolving, for I have 'a
building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in
the heavens.' My heavenly Father entwines the string of
love around the rod with which he afflicts me. The heavier
the rod falls, the more stripes of joy come with it. I know
that all will work the peaceable fruits of righteousness."
In the midst of this delightful assurance, she was kept
humble, and often mourned over the corruption of her
treacherous heart. She said, " Sin is more and more my
burden ; I abhor myself in dust and ashes, and admire the
rich free grace that plucked me from the jaws of hell. It
is all of grace. I must sing the highest notes of praise to
Him who hath washed me in his own blood. I am lost in
wonder at the love of God to wretched me."
She was alive to the best interests of her friends, and
would most affectionately express that interest, always di-
recting them to the inexhaustible fulness treasured up in
Jesus Christ.
A Christian who frequently visited her,, remarks, that on
inquiring after her health, Betsey would often reply, " I am
on the brink of the river, waiting for some kind angel to
take me to possess my glorious inheritance. I am like a
castle built upon a rock, the waves may beat against it, but
cannot reach its top. I neither fear men nor devils ; I shall
soon be where the wicked cease from troubling."
And to the same friend, in her last illness, she said, " I
8 BLIND BETSEV.
feel so serene in my soul, such confidence in the God of my
salvation, that I think this will be the last conflict. It is as
though I walked not by faith noio, but by sight ; that prom-
ise I can more fully comprehend than I ever did, ' They that
trust in the Lord shall be as Mount Zion, w^iich cannot be
removed, but abideth for ever.' "
At another time she said, " I am quite resigned to my
Father's will. I would willingly stay, if I might be made
useful only to one soul."
After expressing to this friend the great increase of pain
which she endured, she said, *'But I cannot tell you what
I have felt in my soul, or what glorious views I have had,
by faith, of a crucified Redeemer. I have viewed him in
the garden of Gethsemane, sweating great drops of blood.
By faith I view him on the cross, his open side, his crown
of thorns." When in the agonies of death, and expecting
that she was entering the valley, she exclaimed with good
old Simeon, " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in
peace. Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly." And towards
morning she said, "■ The Master calleth, and my lamp is
trimmed. I am quite ready."
On the Sabbath morning before her death, when her
friend entered the room, she exclaimed with a loud voice,
" Happy, happy, happy. Precious Jesus. I see him face
to face. I have glory in my soul. Can you hear ? My
Jesus is precious. I have seen thousands of angels around
the throne. Glory, glory !" This was her repeated theme
from Saturday night, eleven o'clock, until Monday morning
at one. She then took a little rest, and the last words she
was heard to say, were, those which she had so often sound-
ed in the ears of her friends, ** Jesus is precious."
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
rVo. 367.
"I AM AN INFIDEL!"
AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE.
Henry, the subject of the folluwing^ strictly authentic
narrative, possessed from childhood an active and enterpris-
ing mind. In his early youth he perceived that the self-de-
nying precepts of the Gospel forbade his pursuing that course
which had been marked out for him by an unchastened am-
bition. To get rid of this embarrassment, he had recourse
to the doctrine of universal salvation ; but being convinc-
ed, upon a careful examination, that the Bible furnished no
support to his new religion, he rejected the unaccommodating
book as a system of i:)riestcraft, and adopted the sentiments
of David Hume.
Henry was of an amiable temper ; and though he had
got rid of the restraints imposed by a belief in revelation,
and wholly neglected the institutions of Christianity, he still
retained, to a considerable extent, that outward morality
which forms one of the distinct folds in the accustomed dra-
pery of the Christian religion.
In 1826 he had nearly finished his preparation for the
bar, and had gone to reside in the lamily of a pious lady in
VOL. VIII. 1*2*
2 I AM AN INFIDEL.
the village of , whose husband was absent from home.
Though there was a powerful revival of rehgion in that
place, Henry had kept himself aloof from what he consid-
ered a foolish and needless excitement. On the 6th of De-
cember he was induced, by a sense of pohteness, to accom-
pany the lady with whom he boarded and a female friend
of hers, residinor in the familv, to an evenins: lecture. He
went to this meeting, as he afterwards acknowledged, with
a full determination of keeping his mind engrossed with
worldly thoughts ; and he succeeded so well, that, on his
return home, he had no distinct recollection of what had
been advanced by the preacher.
After supper, the ladies whom he had accompanied to
the house of God, left him in the sitting-room, and retired
to a closet in a distant part of the house, to spend a short
season in prayer for the salvation of their careless boarder.
They had not been long engaged in pleading at the throne
of grace, when they were interrupted by a loud cry of dis-
tress from the sitting-room. On repairing thither, they found
the family Bible open upon the table, and the late thought-
less Henry standing upon his feet, with strong marks of dis-
tress upon his countenance. To the question, What is the
matter? he answered, "I cannot tell, but I entreat you to
pray for me I" This answer had scarcely passed his lips,
when his heavinsr bosom o-ave vent to its accumulatino- an-
guish in heart-rending expressions of despair, which his agi-
tated frame seemed scarcely capable of sustaining. Henry
now saw plainly that his Universalism and infidelity were
alike refuges of lies, under which he had taken shelter to
screen himself from the reproaches of a guilty conscience,
and believed that God was driving him from them by the
power of his Spirit, not for the sake of having merc}^ but
to make him a monument of his righteous displeasure, and
hold him up as a warning to those who should afterwards
Hve ungodly.
About twelve o'clock at night he requested that some
of his companions might be sent for, that they, seeing his
anguish, might avoid the hopeless abyss into which he con-
ceived himself to have fallen. At two in the morning the
writer was called from his bed to visit him. Upon enter-
ing the apartment I found him upon his knees, not indeed
attempting to pray, but giving vent to the anguish of a
I AM AX INFIDEL. 3
broken spirit. I inquired of him about the state of his mind,
but only received for answer, " I am an Infidel — / have
denied the only Saviour, and am now given up of God to eat
the fruit of my own doings /" His whole soul was immersed
in agony, while the shiverings of a strange unearthly horror,
which ran througii his manly frame, had so prostrated his
muscular powers that he was unable to stand, or even sit
up without support. After giving him some instruction
from the word of God, and praying for him, I left him under
the^are of some judicious Christian fiiends.
The next day was a Thanksgiving season through the
state, and though it was a season of great gratitude in ,
it was also a season of deep distress with many, and of much
agonizing prayer among the people of God. In the even-
ing there was a meeting of religious inquiry, to which the
despairing Henry, by the assistance of two fi-iends, repaired.
Here I again endeavored to lead him to the Saviour of sin-
ners ; but to every overture of mercy he would reply, " These
2yrovisions were once for me;, hut I have rejected them. I have
sinned away my day of grace — I am an Infidel !" In this
state of mind he left the meeting, and continued to tremble
under " a fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indigna-
tion^^ from the 2^i'esence of the Almighty, until about eleven
o'clock that evening, when his obdurate heart was broken
BY THE Spirit of the Lord, and the heart-rending groans
of the convicted infidel were exchanged for the joyful song
of the believing saint.
Henry's transition from the bitterness of a broken spirit
to joy and peace in believing, was sudden ; but his joy, like
the light which is shed upon the path of the just, was abid-
ing, and will, we have reason to hope, grow stronger and
stronger till the perfect day.
If Henry's case may be considered a fair specimen of
the effects of infidelity upon a mind enlightened by the
Spirit of God here, where there is still room for repentance,
what will be the condition of the infidel when eternity shall
disclose all its awful realities to his view ?
The freethinker often seems to consider his scepticism as
a justification for all that he does amiss. As he resorts to
this system to get rid of the strictness of the law of God,
he endeavors to avail himself of the license given him by
his adopted creed to quiet his conscience. When Christian
4 I AM AN L\ FIDEL.
friends would have him attend a preached Gospel, it is to
him a satisfactory reply, " I am an Infidel !" When en-
treated to break off from some immoral habit, his reply is,
" I AM AN Infidel !" And when we would set before him
the injury he is doing to the rising generation by withdraw-
ing our youth from under the restraints of the Gospel, he
meets us with the same self- satisfying justification, and
gravely tells us that he is " an Infidel !" But what if his
consoling doctrine should not prove true '? What if the Bible,
after all, should be the word of God, as the Holy Spirit
taught Henry to believe"? Will his having rejected the way
of life then save him ? Infidelity can neither deliver from
the guilt of sin, nor from the penalty of a righteous law.
It may, indeed, blind the eyes for a time, and enable the
sinner to vralk with a firmer step in the downward road.
But this blindness must all pass away. If the Spirit of God
does not remove it in this world, it will be dispelled by the
light of his countenance in the world to come.
It is easy for men, while immersed in the bustle of busi-
ness, or running the giddy round of fashionable amusements,
or listening to the pleasant song, to forget God, and put far
off the evil day. It is easy for them, while sitting at a full
board and joining in the pleasantries of the convivial circle,
to silence the small voice of conscience by the recollection
that they are infidels. But the bustle of business, and the
giddy round of fashionable amusements, must be laid aside ;
the song of pleasure must pass away ; the full board and
convivial circle must depart. Death's awful bereavements
must break up the dearest relationships of life : the largest
possessions must be reduced to the hmits of the narrow
house ; and even the repose of the grave must be broken by
the noise of the heavens and the earth passing away !
Then, impenitent sinner, what will you do ? When the
clarion of the Gospel shall be exchanged for the trumpet
of the archangel, and the sceptre of mercy for the sword of
justice ; when you shall stand upon a dissolving world, in
the presence of a righteous God ; when the history of your
life shall be unfolded, the book of God's law opened, and
the offers of mercy rolled up and laid aside, will you be able
to silence the reproaches of an awakened conscience, or still
the throbbings of an aching heart, by exclaiming, " I am an
Infidel?"
No. «68.
TO
THE CONFIDENT, THE DIFFIDENT,
THE CARELESS
It is probable that every reader is included in one of
these three classes, or at least may find something suitable
to himself in these hints : he will be able to judge of this
when he has seriously read the whole,
TO THE CONFIDENT.
To such I would say, I have no objection to confidence.
The Bible spea]is of it as the believer's privilege. I have
no objection to its rising to assurance, to full assurance ; to
its even assuming this form at the very outset, and main-
taining it to the end of the course ; inasmuch as it is the
gracious design of God that his people should know that
they have eternal life. And the case is quite conceivable,
of so clear and simple a perception, and so strong and stead-
fast a belief of the freeness and fulness of the grace of God
in Christ being obtained from the very first, and continued
ever afterward, as shall keep the believer in the scriptural
enjoyment of unshaken confidence to the last. Nay, more ;
whatever there may be in believers themselves to hinder its
being uniformly realized, there is not only nothing in the
word of God to prevent it, but every thing to warrant and
produce it. It is not the fault of God, or of his Gospel,
that it is not always thus. It is not that we are strait-
ened in him, but in ourselves. It will be well for the con-
fident, however, to attend to the three following simple
inquiries.
2 TO THE CONFIDENT,
1. Are you sure your confidence is resting on the true
foundation — on the genuine apostolic Gospel — the simple
testimony of God concerning his Son ; on the finished work
of Jesus, held forth in that testimony as the divinely ap-
proved, and therefore only ground of acceptance for sinners ?
Many, you must be well aware, have had confidence in
error. See, then, that your foundation be right. This is
the first concern. If this be wrong, all is wrong. Examine
well the divine record, w^hich reveals the ground of hope
with all simplicity, requiring only sincerity on the sinner's
part to understand it ; and see that your confidence be
founded in the truth. Then, supposing your conceptions
of the Gospel to be according to the simplicity of apostolic
statement, let me ask you,
2. Is your confidence humble ? You may fancy it hardly
necessary to ask such a question, after you have said that
your confidence rests exclusively on the finished work of the
Just One. Be it so. All I wish you to remember is, that
if it really do rest there, it loill be humble ; and that the
humble-minded character of your confidence is one of the
evidences that this is indeed its foundation. There is such
a thing as men's humbling themselves in words, with a con-
scious self-elation at their humbling themselves so well ;
professing to trust exclusively in the righteousness of Christ,
but secretly, and unavo\vedly to themselves, confiding for
salvation in their very zeal for the exclusion of their own
righteousness ; in one word, " trusting in themselves that
they are righteous, and despising others." Those who have
been taught by the grace of God to build their hopes on the
work of Christ alone, need to be on their guard against the
encroachment of such a spirit. If the confidence they enjoy
be genuine, they will, I repeat, hold it humbly ; with a deep
and self-abasing consciousness that they owe their simple
and cheering views of the Gospel not to themselves but to
the Spirit of God, that they are debtors for every thing to
sovereign mercy ; and with a melting tenderness of compas-
sion and of prayer for all who are building on any other
THE DIFFIDENT, AND THE CARELESS. 3
foundation, or who may "go mourning without the sun."
I ask,
3, Is your confidence a holy confidence ? I mean, is it
a confidence in union with practical religion ? Is it asso-
ciated with " denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, and
living soberly, righteously, and godly;" with ''cleansing
yourself from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, and per-
fecting holiness in the fear of God ?" If it be not — if it be
connected with sin and w^orldliness, with conformity to the
world — if not in the open indulgence of vice, yet in its vani-
ties and follies, its gayeties and thoughtless pleasures — as
if you thought religion, instead of consisting in the spiritual
and holy influence of those divine truths of which the faith
is intended "to deliver you from this present evil world,"
lay in the mere holding of a speculative opinion, the adop-
tion of which brought with it the privilege of worldly in-
dulgence— if such be the character of your confidence, such
its earthly and secular associations and tendencies, you may
call it by the scriptural designation of " the assurance of
faith," but I say again, it is the assurance of presumption.
The whole word of God disowns it. It is not a plant of
grace, but a weed of corruption. It is not from heaven, but
from hell ; not from the Spirit of light, but from the prince
of darkness. Jesus "gave himself for our sins, that he
might deliver us from this present evil world, according to
the will of God and our Father" — "gave himself for us,
that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto
himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works."
TO THE DIFFIDENT.
To such I would say, let it be well considered, whence
your want of confidence arises. So far from blaming diffi-
dence, w^hen considered as meaning self-distrust or self-
jealousy, I would apply to it the words of Solomon,
" Blessed is the man that feareth ahvay." But there is a
desponding diffidence, which wonders at the cheerful con-
fidence of others, while it is itself the oflfspring of obscure
4 TO THE CONFIDENT,
conceptions, or unbelieving suspicions of the freeness and
fulness of gospel grace. You may be looking too much to
yourself, and too little to Christ. Let me remind you that
the Gospel is the *' Gospel of peace ;" that it is "good tid-
ings of great joy;" and that the communication of peace
and joy must therefore be one of the very purposes of its
proclamation to sinners. There is no presumption in a sin-
ner's joy, when he '' rejoices in Christ Jesus, having no con-
fidence in the flesh," when he "joys in God, through Jesus
Christ, by whom he has received the reconciliation." The
possession of such peace and joy is no more than the fulfil-
ment of the very end of God in the mission and work of his
Son. And how is it to be retained ? I answer, by stead-
fast " looking unto Jesus." This is the only legitimate, and
it is, in the nature of things, the only reasonable way to find
and to keep it. When the mariner is overtaken by the per-
ilous tempest, what imparts to his mind confidence and
tranquillity ? Does he look forth at the fury of the raging
storm, and, in order to enjoy peace and a sense of security,
set himself to examine the state of his own feelings about
it? No. He examines the tightness of his vessel, the
firmness of its timbers, the completeness of its tackling, and
its sea- worthy structure : he calls to mind the storms it has
already weathered, the fearful seas which it has come
through in safety. Thus should we do. We must find our
peace, and security, and joy, in surveying the sufiiciency of
the foundation on Avhich our hopes are built — not shifting
sand, but solid rock — the foundation of which Jehovah him-
self hath said, " Behold, I lay in Zion, for a foundation, a
stone, a tried stone, a precious corner-stone, a sure founda-
tion ; and he that belie veth on him shall not be ashamed."
You will tell me, perhaps, that your affections are not
as they ought to be : they are so cold, so dead, so inade-
quate to the extent of your obligations and the merits and
claims of their object, and altogether you are conscious of
such failures, that — how can you have peace ? To such I
would sav, witli all aft'ection.
THE DIFFIDENT, AMD THE CARELESS. 5
1. Remember, that the exercise of your affections to-
wards Christ is not to he your justifying righteousness ; no,
nor any part of it. It is not to be, in any degree whatever,
the ground of your hope towards God. It is He who is
the object of your faith and love, that constitutes that ground,
even Christ himself, in his perfect righteousness and aton-
ing blood. See, then, that you keep these things distinct ;
for many have, perhaps unconsciously, confounded them,
and, by confounding them, have been " led into darkness,
and not into light."
2. Although love to Christ is the effect and evidence of
faith, so that there is no faith where there is no love, I hope
you never will come to think of yourself, that you love him
sufficiently — with a love at all adequate to his deserts, or
to your own obligations ; for while you live on earth, this
will never be true : and even in heaven itself, although your
heart shall be as full of love as it can hold, yet, when meas-
ured by the worthiness of. its object, even such love will
ever be far beneath it ; for this worthiness is infinite, and
the love which would be a suitable return for it would
require to be exercised by an infinite mind : a created soul,
however enlarged, and however holy, can never contain it.
I trust, moreover, that you will never cease to fear lest
your love should cool, exposed as it is, in this world, to so
many chilling influences. The very fear of not loving arises
from love, and from an impression of the high claims of its
object; and this description of self-jealousy is included in
the saying before cited, "Blessed is the man that feareth
alwa}^"
3. How is it that the affections are to be excited, and
maintained in lively exercise, towards their objects ? How
are they elevated and invigorated towards an earthly ob-
ject ? Is it by sitting down to muse how you have felt in
former times, or how you are feeling now ? No : it is by
thinking of your friend ; by recollecting in your own mind,
and recounting to others, his various excellences, every thing
hi him and about him, that is fitted to attract, and fix, and
VOL. VITI. 13
6 TO THE CONFIDENT,
strengthen attachment. So should it be in regard to your
heavenly Friend. It is not by brooding over the state of
your own mind and heart that your love to him is to be
confirmed and animated : it is by "looking unto Jesus," by
thinking of him, reading of him, speaking of him, praising
him ; by dwelling on his love to you, rather than on yours
to him ; and above all, let me say, by actively serving him,
in all the duties of life. Your great error lies in making
happy frames and feelings too much your object or aim.
But " I am well persuaded that, speaking generally, they
will be found to enjoy such frames most habitually, who
think least about them. The true Avay to the possession of
them is, not setting them up before us as the object to
which our endeavors are to be directed, but living a life of
operative faith upon the Son of God, resting with firmness
and simplicity on his finished work, and under the influence
of humble gratitude and love to his name, constantly and
diligently doing his will, and promoting his glory." Fol-
low this course, and " the joy of the Lord will be your
strength."
4. All our self-inquiry, if conducted on right principles,
will lead us to Jesus. When you bring yourself to the test
of God's law, and perceive and feel that, when tried by that
standard, there is nothing for you but despair, what should
be the eftect but to " shut you up " the more to him, as
your only refuge and your onl}" hope ? And when you try
yourself by the Bible description of the Christian character,
and are still conscious — as who is not ? — of sad and multi-
plied deficiencies, let this operate in two ways : let it
deepen still more your humble impression of your need of
his propitiatory blood and abounding mercy ; convincing
you that even the character of the renewed nature, in any
stage of its advancement, will never do for you to stand in
before God : and let it impart to your mind a still livelier
sense of the value of his name, as your plea at the throne
of grace, for that divine influence which is needful, to en-
lighten what is dark, to supply what is wantino-. to correct
THE DIFFIDENT, AND THE CARELESS. 7
what is erroneous, to purify what is corrupt, to spiritualize
what is earthly, to elevate what is depressed, to invigorate
what is weak, to confirm what is unstable, to keep you from
temptation, and to deliver you from evil. And as to your
experience, what is the use you should make of it ? Are
you to trust in it ? No ; but only to draw from it encour-
agement to return to the source from which it was derived.
If it was legitimate and scriptural, that source was Christ.
The Holy Spirit makes Christ the spring of all that he
acknowledges as Christian experience ; and then, keeping
the believing soul still to one point, makes that experience
the attraction back to Christ.
TO THE CARELESS.
Some may read this Tract who are careless about their
own interest in the important mattei*s of salvation and eter-
nal life. I call them important. Who will dispute it?
Their importance is unutterable. Yet, while every sound
judgment assents to this, alas, with what listlessness they
are generally regarded ! Men hear, and sometimes read,
discussions about eternal life, as if it were a matter in which
they had no personal concern. But let me beseech you,
with affectionate solicitude, to recollect the solemn fact, a
fact which you can neither gainsay nor alter, that you are
in possession of an existence that is never to end ; and that
the present life is the time for settling the question whether
this eternal existence is to be to you an eternity of happi-
ness or of woe. The very possibility of this alternative
depending on your present transitory life, should make you
serious and in earnest. Yet, are you not attending to and
settling, every day, questions of this world's personal, do-
mestic, commercial, and political economy, while you are
leaving uninvestigated and undecided inquiries relative to
that never-ending state on w^iich every instant you know
not but you may enter ? To-morrow itself, on which you
are reckoning as a part of your present life, may to you be
a part not of time but of eternity — a fixed and immutable
8 TO THE CONFIDENT, ETC.
eternity. Are you, then, acting wisely ; are you acting
consistently with that reason, which is your boasted dis-
tinction from the brute creation ?
Yet, while living thus, you may be professing to believe
the Bible to be God's word. But if you really knew and
believed the contents of this divine record, you could not
remain as you are, careless about the eternal results which
it brings before you, and of which it assures you with such
equal fidelity of denunciation and promise. The question,
who have and who have not eternal life, is a question de-
cided in this book with the most unwavering explicitness.
There is no uncertainty left hanging over it : " He that hath
the Son, hath life ; and he that hath not the Son of God,
hath not life." " The Father loveth the Son, and hath
given all things into his hand. He that believeth on the Son,
hath everlasting life ; he that believeth not the Son, shall
not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him." "Ver-
ily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he
cannot see the kingdom of God." These declarations stand
on record in this book. You cannot be wise in treating:
them with lightness, till you have carefully examined and
deliberately set aside, as proved to be futile, all the evidence
of its divine original. They are interesting to all : they are
interesting to you. Bring the question, the all-important
question, home. Have I eternal life ? That you should
have this life, is to you of infinite and everlasting moment :
that you should knoiv that you have it, is essential to your
highest happiness in time, as is its possession to your bless-
edness in eternity. May God in mercy lead you to both
the possession and the knowledge, by leading you to Christ.
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
IVo. 369.
SHALL 1 COME
TO
THE LORD'S SUPPER?
My dear Brother — According to your request I will
endeavor, with all plainness, to answer the interesting in-
quiry you proposed to me. "A pious young person," you
inform me, ''hesitates about coming to the Lord's supper:
how," you ask, "is he to be convinced that it is his duty
and privilege to sit down at the Lord's table ?"
Before proceeding to the subject you have laid before
me, it is proper that I tell you in what sense I understand
certain words you employ ; because if we disagree in these,
it is not likely that what I shall say will prove satisfactory
to you.
In the first place, then, when you call this person "pi-
ous,'' I suppose you mean, not merely that he is thoughtful,
or seriously reflecting, or moral in the ordinary sense of the
term, or even a professor of religion, but that he is one
whose heart you have reason, in the judgment of charity,
to believe has been changed by the grace of God.
Again, you speak of communing as the "duty " of your
friend ; and by this I presume you mean, it is an obligation
immediately 2)ressing upon him. In a very important sense,
indeed, it is the duty of all to whom the Gospel message
is come, to partake of the holy supper, and no such person
can decline this without incurring great guilt. But if he
come otherwise than God has commanded, he offends. So
awful is the condition of such a person ! If he partakes, he
sins — if he does not, he sins. What, then, must he do ?
There is but one way of safety for him. Let him immedi-
ately " flee for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before
him" in the Gospel. Let him repent and believe, and come
to the table of the Lord. All these are alike duties, and
VOL. viii. 13*
2 SHALL 1 COME TO THE LORD'S SUPPER ?
to neglect either is to violate a divine command. But they
are to be done in the Gospel order ; repent and believe,
and being baptized, commemorate the dying love of the Re-
deemer.
I. With this explanation before us, I will now endeavor
to remove the doubts of your friend. And it seems to me,
these will in a great measure be dissipated by a bare con-
sideration of the nature of the ordinance. The Lord's sup-
per is spiritual food, designed to sustain and invigorate
sjDiiitual life, even as the symbols of bread and wine therein
used, nourish and strengthen the body. Such, we believe,
is the simple, scriptural character of this institution. Now,
the question is, Who ought to sit down to this feast ; the
friends, or the enemies of the Lord Jesus ? And when we
mention these two classes of persons, we have enumerated
all around us. For as it regards the cause of Christ, there
is no such thing as neutrality : " they who are not for me,"
says he, " are against me." If we are not his friends, we
must be his enemies. Which of these, then, are proper
guests at the table of the Lord ? This is a question, we
conceive, that admits of a ready answer. Certainly, we
should expect, at the supper of the Lord, to behold none
but the friends of the Lord ; and the absence of any of
these ought to be as great a grief to us as the presence of
his enemies.
IL But who are the friends of Christ? The merely
good men of the world ? No ; " for that which is highly
esteemed among men, is abomination in the sight of God."
All those who assent to the truth of the Gospel? No;
" the devils believe and tremble." All those who profess to
be his friends ? No ; for many shall say, in the last day,
" we have eaten and drunk in thy presence," to whom the
Lord will declare, " I know you not — depart from me."
Who, then, are his friends ? We answer, all loho are not
of the world. The Son of God came to this earth to estab-
lish a holy kingdom on the foundation of his own " obedi-
ence unto death," and by the sanctifying influences of his
Spirit. Here, then, there is about us a " world which lieth
in wickedness," and there is the kingdom of Christ. Now,
have we so repented and believed in the Saviour, as to have
separated ourselves from the world ? If so, then are we the
willing subjects of Emmanuel's kingdom, and consequently,
SHALI- I COME TO THE LORD'S SUPPER 1 3
his friends. There can be but two sorts of people : all
■who " are not of the Father, are of the Avorld." " A friend
of the world is the enemy of God."
III. There is another point of view in which this subject
may be presented. " All are by nature dead in trespasses
and sins," and therefore "walk according to the course of
this world ;" but some have, by divine grace, been made
*' alive unto God, through Jesus Christ our Lord," and these
*' walk in newness of life."
Now, as we would not give material food to a dead
man — the very fact of his being dead would make this un-
reasonable and useless — so ought we not to give spiritual
food to those who are " dead in trespasses and sins, who
Avalk according to the course of this world." Not having
been made " alive unto God, through Jesus Christ our Lord,"
the "bread of God" could not profit them. As, then,
natural food is for living men, so spiritual food — the Lord
Jesus fed on by faith, in his supper — is for living souls,
those who have been quickened by the Spirit of God from
the death of "trespasses and sins," and who therefore
*'walk with God." But only j^enitent believers " vxxlk with
God ;" such, then, are they who have been made " alive
unto God, through Jesus Christ our Lord." They are the
children of God, through faith in Christ, and by the regen-
erating operation of his Spirit.
We have then arrived at the conclusion that all, without
exception or limitation, all ivlio repent and believe, and are
bajytized, and 07ily they, are fit subjects for the Lord's sup-
per. Such persons are the true friends of Jesus, and there-
fore have a place at his table ; they are the children of
God, being born of his Spirit, and consequently, theirs is
the " children's bread."
IV. But here, perhaps, the inquirer may ask, " How
may I know whether I am a penitent believer ? I fear I
have never felt that ' godly sorrow which worketh repent-
ance unto salvation ;' I fear I have never yet * believed on
the Lord Jesus Christ in my heart unto righteousness.' "
Is it thus with thee, reader ? Then put, we beseech thee,
these few questions to thyself with earnest prayer for divine
grace to enable thee to answer them aright.
1. Has the Spirit of God ever " convinced thee of sin,"
so as to make thee see a loathsome pollution in all thou art.
4 SHALL I COME TO THE LORD'S SUPPER 1
and all thou doest ? It was this sense of personal deprav
ity which caused the apostle to exclaim, " I know that in
me, (that is, in my flesh,) dwelleth no good thing. O
wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me from the
body of this death?"
2. Has a heartfelt consciousness of guilt, corruption,
and ruin, led thee to Him who was " lifted up, that whoso-
ever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal
life?"
3. While seeking the Lord in the way of his appoint-
ment, private prayer, searching the Scriptures, listening to
a preached Gospel, the conversation and prayers of pious
people — whilst thus seeking the Lord, has his "secret — the
great mystery of godliness — Christ crucified," been in some
degree reA'ealed to thee, bringing light to thy mind, peace
to thy conscience, and love to thy heart ? yea, such light,
and peace, and love, as have caused thee, perhaps, at times
to '' rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory ?"
4. Do all things about thee — the men of the world,
their character, and ways, and tendency, appear just as
God's word describes them to be ? Have you discovered
that the Lord has a people here ? And are these precious in
your eyes ? Do you esteem them the excellent of the earth ?
Do you prefer their fellowship and conversation ? Are you
willing to cast in your lot with them, " choosing rather to
suffer affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy the
pleasures of sin for a season?"
5. Do you "delight in the law of God after the in-
ward man?" and is it your daily desire, and prayer, and
endeavor, to '' deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to
live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present evil
world?" And yet are you so sensible of your shortcom-
ings, of the sins even of your most holy things, as to make
" Christ crucified" your only hope ?
6. Do you see in the salvation of the Gospel a method
of redemption most glorious to the holy and merciful Sove-
reio-n of heaven, and admirably adapted to a world of sin-
ners ? Have you felt it to be exactly suited to your case ?
Finally. Have you, at least, had any such sense of the
things contained in the foregoing questions as has led you
to hate sin and love holiness — and to wish that all around
you might be brought to the same blessed experience ?
SHALL I COME TO THE LORD'S SUPPER 1 5
Certainly, reader, if it be thus ^Yith thee, thou art a
Christian indeed; thou liast "the Spirit of Christ." He
who loves the law, and the ways, and the people of God,
must love God himself. And be assured, none do thus
love God but those who exercise " repentance towards God,
and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ,"
0 what mercy has the Lord then shown thee ! Whilst
mi^ltitudes about thee are going on in blindness and sin,
thou hast been " turned from darkness to light, and from
the power of Satan unto God." How many are living
" without Christ — having no hope, and without God in the
world ;" but " God, who commanded the light to shine out
of darkness, hath shined into thy heart, to give the light of
the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus
Christ!" Thou hast found "truth, the pearl of great
price ;" peace, hope, hoHness, are thine ; andihere are sea-
sons, perhaps, when thou canst rejoice in "the hope of
glory."
And shall " the Father of mercies" have done so much
for thee, and thy heart not burn within thee ? Surely,
gratitude must constrain thee to live no more to thyself, or
to the world, but to "Him who loved thee and died for
thee ;" gratitude must constrain thee to cast the full weight
of thy influence into the scale on the Lord's side. Surely,
thy full heart is ready to burst out with a saint of old,
"What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits
towards me ? I will take the cup of salvation, and call up-
on the name of the Lord. I will pay my vows unto the
Lord now, m the presence of all his p}eople.''
Y. Here, however, the serious inquirer may reply, " I
trust that I truly repent of my sins, and believe on the
Lord Jesus Christ, and that it is the sincere purpose of
my heart to serve and please God in all my ways ; but I
fear my repentance is not deep enough, my faith not strong
enough for one who would sit down at the table of the
Lord." Or he may say, "Even if my repentance and faith
be of the most lively sort, still they have not yet sufficiently
impressed my life ; 1 am not so eminently pious as it seems
to me a communicant ought to be."
Now, God forbid that Ave should say one word which
might tend to diminish the longings of a pious heart after
greater attainments in religion ; but do not such fears as
6 SHALL I COME TO THE LORD'S SUPPER 1
tliose we have just described, proceed from mistaken views
of this ordinance ? It is designed for penitent behevers,
and not merely for those who have attained to a large mea-
sure of repentance and faith. Just as certain is it, that all
who truly repent of their sins, and believe on the Lord Jesus
Christ, however feeble those graces may be in them, ought
to come to the Lord's supper, as it is that all i?npe7'rit€nt
and unbelieving 2^crsons are unmeet guests.
And in what part of the Bible do we find the acquisi-
tion of an extraordinary degree of holiness required in a
believer before he make this memorial of a Saviour's dying
love ?
Either Ave are impenitent and unbelieving, or we do
repent and believe ; either we are worldly, or pious ; either
we are in an unconverted state, or our hearts have been
changed by divine grace ; either we are under the curse of
a broken law, or we stand justified and accepted before God
throuo^h faith in his Son ; either we are riohteous or wicked :
in one word, either we are "without Christ," or "in him."
In one or the other of these states we must be ; there is no
such a thing as a half-way character, or half-way condition.
O, there is an awful and, indelible line drawn in the word of
truth between the whole of mankind ! The new birth is
that line. On the one side are " the children of this world,"
on the other "the children of God."
Now, if ive are among the first class, then to come to
the Lord's supper is solemn mockery of God, because we
thereby profess ourselves to be what we really are not — his
friends. But if we belong to the latter company, then,
though we may be mere " babes in Christ," "less than the
least of all saints," still, we are believers — we are the peo-
ple of the Lord — we are " sanctified in Christ Jesus ;" and,
blessed be his name, he invites us, though " in weakness,
and fear, and much trembling" — he invites us to draw nigh
and feed upon the " true bread, which cometh down from
heaven." And to refuse this invitation, is to proclaim our-
selves what indeed we are not — the enemies of Christ.
VI. Sometimes, however, another fear may perplex the
mind of the believer, and keep him back from the table of
the Lord. He may complain, "I have not this or that
Christian grace, and therefore dare not approach the holy
communion."
SHALL I COME TO THE LORD'S SUPPER? 7
To this we reply, Thou art mistaken, O man ; and
plainly " writest bitter things" against thyself. For as the
worldly soul has not one "fruit of the Spirit," so every
believer has them all in a greater or less degree. He may
indeed be very deficient in some graces of the Spirit, yet
he is not utterly destitute of any one of them. Hence, to
say of the true believer, he is not penitent — or of the peni-
tent, he has no humility — or of the humble-minded, he has
no boldness in the Lord — or in general, to speak of the
Christian as being devoid of any one grace, is a downright
solecism in religion. Be assured, the "new creature in
Christ" is a perfect man, though he may be feeble in many
of his members. If we really have one of the graces of the
Sjyirit in any degree, we have them all, though perhaps
none eminently so. And it is just to nourish and invigorate
the "new man" in the graces of the Spirit, that the Lord's
supper Avas instituted. If, then, we feel humbly conscious
of being weak in any particular grace, this, so far from
keeping us back from the communion, ought to impel us
forward. For it is at this ordinance, especially, we may
hope to " grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord
and Saviour Jesus Christ."
To sum up the whole in a few words : the Lord's sup-
per is " spiritual food" to cherish and strengthen spiritual
life ; and the means whereby it is received is faith. Hence
it was not provided exclusively for the strong in faith, but
for all believers ; it is bread, not merely for " fathers, and
the young," but for "little children" in Christ. And as we
ought not to admit him to the table of the Lord who gives
not good evidence of being born again of the Spirit, so we
dare not repel the feeblest Christian.
Vn. Here, however, it may not be improper to notice
Avhat I believe to be a dangerous error, that has sometimes
fallen in my way. It may be thus stated : A person who
is not a penitent believer — who is not converted unto God —
but who is anxious for his soul, and professes to be seeking
the Lord — is advised to come to the communion, because it
is means of grace. Is this right ?
We answer decidedly. No. The Lord's supper is in-
deed a means of grace, but it is spiritual food, and to offer
spiritual food to a dead soul is something worse than folly.
He who has not been by divine grace " made ahve unto
8 SHALL I COME TO THE LORD'S SUPPER?
God through Jesus Christ our Lord," is '' dead in trespasses
and sins ;" or, in other words, he who is not a Christian, is
impenitent and unbeheving : I know of no middle character
between these two. Let such a man, then, repent and be-
lieve, or else come not to the table of the Lord. Advise him
to come to the Lord's supper ? why, this is to counsel the
man to make the hypocritical profession of a friendship he
never felt. So sure as there is any meaning in the Gospel,
all impenitent and unbelieving persons are the enemies of the
Lord Jesus Christ.
VIIL One remark more, and I have done. It is a plain
Scripture testimony, "If any man be in Christ, he is a new
creature" — new in his dispositions, views, and objects — new
in his spirit and conduct. Hence, what such a man once
loved, he hates ; and w^hat he once hated, he loves. Now,
it seems to me that a consideration of this Bible account of
what a true believer in the Son of God is, will at once show
us the inconsistency between the card-table, the ballroom,
the theatre, the horserace, or any such amusement of the
world, and a profession of religion. A pious man tvould
not desire these things ; and he who can relish them gives
fearful evidence that he is destitute of the Christian charac-
ter. Such a person may have "a name to live," but, alas,
is he not dead — "dead in trespasses and sins ?"
Your friend in the bonds of the Gospel, b. p. a.
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
]Vo. 270.
A TRAVELLER
AT
THE END OF HER JOURNEY.
BY EEV. RICHAED KNILL,
OF ST. PETERSBURGH.
Miss P., the interesting traveller whose short history is
here given, was a native of a rural village in the principality
of Wales. There she spent the early part of her life, and
httle thought then, that she should visit other climes, and
die in a foreign land. But so it came to pass, and in this
w^ay I became acquainted with her.
It was the unspeakable privilege of this young person
to have a pious mother, whose godly life and scriptural in-
structions produced deep and tender feelings on her youth-
ful mind. Her mother prayed for her, and icith her, and
regularly took her to the house of God. Happily for her,
the preaching she attended was of the right kind, and deep-
ened the impressions which were made at home. It was
similar to that which the venerated Legh Richmond de-
scribes : " It is simple, earnest, scriptural, plain, and inter-
esting. The awful condition of a sinner in his natural state,
aild the consolations and promises of a Saviour, are dwelt
upon throughout their prayers and discourses." 0, were
the walls of every place of worship to echo with the sound
of such truths, what a glorious transformation would it pro-
duce throughout Christendom, yea, throughout the world !
By these means her memory was well stored with hymns
and portions of the Bible, and a grand outline of the way of
salvation. Impressions thus made in early life are seldom
entirely effaced. This I particularly noticed in the experi-
ence of my departed friend ; and parents and preachers too
may draw great encouragement from this thought, when
VOL. VIII. 14
2 A TRAVELLER AT THE
they are endeavoring to lead the minds of the young to the
knowledge of Christ.
The first time I ever heard of Miss P. was on the 27th
of May, 1831. Having accompanied a dear missionary
brother to the grave of a departed saint, and been engaged
with him in planning a school for a thickly populated neigh-
borhood of poor children, as I returned home I found a note
waiting for me, saj'ing, " Miss P., one of your congregation,
is very desirous to see you. She is exceedingly ill, and
hopes you w^ill come soon." The distance was five miles,
and the next morning I walked over to her residence, I found
her alone. Her countenance indicated that her continuance
here would not be long. I said to her, A friend of yours
has Avritten me a note requesting me to call and see you,
and I have come. " Thank you," she replied, " I am glad
to see you ; I hope you will be able to comfort me."
She w^as lying on her bed, neatly dressed, and a black
velvet pelisse, trimmed w^ith fur, w^as thrown loosely over
her feet. The sight was very affecting. It seemed to say,
" So Avill the black pall soon cover me, when I am laid in
my coffin."
I sat down by her bedside and entered into conversation,
trying at the same time to recollect if I had ever seen her
before ; but I could not trace the faintest recollection. Yet
I thought I had seen the pelisse among my hearers at the
chapel. I said to her, ''Pray, miss, do you know me ?"
" 0 yes," she replied, '' I know you very well ; I have
seen you several times. Have you not seen me ?"
I answered, " I think I have seen this pelisse, but I
have no recollection of you."
The tears started in her eyes — " Yes," said she, " I wore
this pelisse when I was at chapel : it is not altered, but /
am greatly altered. My illness has reduced me to a shad-
ow, but the distress of my soul outweighs all my bodily
pains."
Just as she finished this sentence a lady entered the
room. It was the amiable and benevolent friend to whom
the house belonged, who I was happy to perceive was un-
END OF HER JOURNEY. 3
remitting in her attentions to the dying sufferer. This lady
immediately began about the distressing state of Miss P.'s
mind. ''I cannot account for it, sir," said she, *' nor would,
you be able to account for it, if you knew her character —
so kind, so religious, so affectionate, so obliging is she, that
every body loves her. She is an angel ! I assure you it is
a fact."
''I have no reason to doubt your veracity, madam," I
replied, " but I do think I can account for Miss P.'s distress.
She wants something more than all you have mentioned in
order to become happy." Then turning to Miss P., I said,
" You hear Avhat your benevolent friend has said respecting
you, and we will not attempt to disprove it for a moment —
but tell me, is all this which the lady has mentioned suffi-
cient for you to rest upon, when you shall stand before the
judgment-seat of Christ?"
" 0 no," she replied.
''And suppose that you could command all the excel-
lences of all the good people in the world, would all this
together be a sure foundation on which you could venture
the salvation of your soul ?"
"No," she again replied; ''all this Avould be of no
avail to me."
" Then your friend has mistaken your case. Pray, how
do you think a sinner can be saved ?"
" Ah," said she, " there is only one way, and that is not
by works of righteousness which we have done, but through
faith in the merits of our Lord Jesus Christ."
I rejoiced in this testimony from her dying lips. It gave
me great encouragement to hope that her soul would not
remain long in darkness, and it afforded me a fair opportu-
nity for explaining to the lady what the Scriptures say re-
specting the " only name under heaven given among men,
whereby we must be saved."
After this the lady read a chapter, and we engaged in
prayer. I then pointed out several parts of the Bible which
I wished to have read to Miss P., as her strength would
bear it ; and after a few other observations took my leave.
4 A TRAVELLER AT THE
Never had I been received or treated with greater kind-
ness.
It is scarcely possible to witness any thing more solemn
or instructive than a death-bed scene. 0 how it discovers
the vanity of all earthly things, when we behold a fellow-
creature panting for life — struggling with death — crying for
mercy — calling on the long-neglected Saviour, and saying,
** 0 could I but obtain the assurance of his love, then would
I shout, * 0 death, where is thy sting ? 0 grave, where is thy
victory ?' " On retiring from a scene like this, and consid-
ering how many there are who never think of their souls
and eternit}^ who would not breathe out the prayer of the
patriarch, " 0 that they were wise, that they understood
this, that they would consider their latter end ?" Such were
frequently my impressions when returning from the dying
bed of this young woman, and such, I trust, will be the im-
pressions of many who read these lines.
The distance of my house, and other circumstances,
would not permit me to renew my visits every day, but I soon
endeavored to make a second call. On entering the room
she looked at me with an anxious countenance, and said,
" Ah, I have no peace — my soul can take no comfort — my
burden is heavier than I can bear — I am greatly distressed."
I spoke of the Saviour.
"Yes," she replied, "it is very true — I know it all —
but, my unbelief, this is my burden. I cannot take hold of
the encouragement. I want to come to Christ, but cannot.
0 this hard, this wicked heart. Pray for me, I beseech you."
" I will attend to your request," I said ; " but compose
your mind. Tell me a little about your history. We are
strangers to each other, and it is desirable that I should
know something of the disease, in order to apply the remedy."
She then began and told me of her birthplace, and early
religious impressions, and the advantages she had enjoyed,
and added, " When I was young, my dear and pious mother
died ; my father had previously been taken from me, and
when my parents were gone I was left to my own discretion.
1 had nothino- of a worldlv nature to detain me at home, and
END OF HER JOURNEY. 5
knowing that I had relatives in this country, I resolved to
be with them; and hither I came. Here I have received
great kindness ; indeed I have had every thing that earth
could give ; hut I have not been happy. O no ; I have not
been happy. I knew too much of my Bible to be happy.
I had heard and seen too much of religion to be happy. I
felt the vanity of the world even when I was most occupied
in it. I cut myself off from religious privileges, and it has
made me miserable."
" How have you spent your time since you have been
here?"
'' I have been chiefly engaged in travelling, either in this
or in neighboring countries."
"How have you spent your Sabbaths?"
No answer but a gush of tears.
"Have you frequently been to places of worship ?"
" No, I have seldom been at a place where I could un-
derstand the church language ; and since my return here I
have been so completely occupied that I could only attend
chapel about four times, and even when I was there it made
me miserable. All that I heard seemed to be against me.
The invitations and promises, as well as the threatenings,
were as so many daggers in my breast ; and once when the
Lord's supper was administered in my presence, it was like
a thunderbolt to me. I thought I should have fainted."
" Then the sum total of your history appears to be this :
you were well instructed in divine things when at home, but
since you have come hither you have slighted them ; yet
you had too much light to be happy while you were thus
neglecting the great salvation. 0 ' wliat is a man profited,
if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul:?' "
" Ah, yes," said she, " that is it, and now I am miser-
able."
I replied, " It wovild be strange if you were not misera-
ble ; but recollect it is a great mercy that your conscience is
not seared as with a hot iron — that God has not said respect-
ing you, ' Let her alone ' — that the Spirit, whom you have
grieved, has not ceased to strive with vou. Yes, I consider
yoL. viii. 14''
6 A TRAVELLER AT THE
it a great mercy that your mind is so much ahve to the
solemnity of your situation. You say you are miserable,
and you know there is only one remedy for miserable sin-
ners. Take that remedy. Embrace that Saviour. Flee to
that refuge. Trust in the merits of that blood. Christ is
the sinner's friend, and you have slighted him ; but now, even
now, turn to him, believe in him, and you shall be saved !"
A pause ensued. I left her to her own reflections. After
a few minutes, which I could not doubt had been spent in
meditation and prayer, I said to her, " Can you repeat any
hymns Avhich refer to the atonement of Christ?"
"Yes," she rephed, ** I can repeat many; I have just
been teaching a beautiful one to Mary," — a sweet little girl
who sat by her side. She then began it :
" There is a fountain filled with blood,
Drawn from Emmanuel's veins ;
And sinners, plunged beneath that flood,
Lose all their guilty stains.
The dying thief rejoiced to see
That fountain in his day ;
And there would I, though vile as he.
Wash all my sins away."
At this her feelings overcame her, and she could pro-
ceed no farther.
After a few days I called again, and was happy to find
her composed and tranquil ; trusting in her Redeemer to
order the event of her sickness in mercy, and committing to
him the interests of her soul for eternity. ''I hope," said
she, " that I shall obtain mercy — that God will not cast me
off" — that the Saviour will not reject me."
" What leads you thus to hope ? Is it because you
think you are better than you were before ?"
*' No ; I am not looking to myself, but to the worjJ, the
promise, and the oath of God, ' that we might have strong
consolation who have fled for refuge to lay hold on the hope
set before us, which hope we have as an anchor to the soul,
both sure and steadfast.' "
This visit was to me both edifying and comforting. We
END OF HER JOURNEY. 7
had much conversation, and that part which she took in it
discovered the very interesting state of her mind.
Among other things, she said, in a most solemn manner,
" I have been looking back on my life, and I am mortified,
and ashamed, and humbled at the review. 0 what have I
been doing ! How have I wasted my precious time ! . I
have been grasping at shadows ! I have been feeding on
husks ! A deceived heart has turned me aside."
These words were spoken with much difficulty, in a low
tone, and with long pauses between.
She added, " I have been thinking of others also. The
world is in a dangerous condition. I see it now. Yes —
sacred things are almost universally, neglected. O could I
but make my feeble voice heard, I would tell them all of
their fearful condition. Will you, sir, warn them to flee
from the Avrath to come ?"
I replied, " I will do what I can, but I am afraid we
shall obtain only a partial hearing. Men are too much en-
grossed with worldly things. The chains of sin are too
strong upon them. Sabbath occupations are too carnal, and
sensual, and devilish. The ' god of this world ' hath bhnded
the eyes and hardened the hearts of most men ; and what
makes it the more alarming, is the fact, that they have no
apprehension of their danger. But let us do what we can ;
and above all, let us abound in prayer. Let us call down
Omnipotence to oiu- help — for God can change the hardest
heart. Let us pray."
It gave me great delight to observe in Miss P. so much
solicitude for the souls of her relatives ; for I believe this is
an unequivocal sign of a right frame of heart. Where this
feeling is prevalent, and genuine, the happy possessor of it
may assure himself that he has the mind of Christ. May
every one who reads this have no peace, nor joy, nor satis-
faction in any thing, until he experiences this true love to
God and man.
More than four weeks had now passed since my first
interview. A great change had passed on her countenance,
and it was evident that the earthly house of her tabernacle
,8 A TRAVELLER, ETC.
would soon be dissolved ; but her intellect remained strong
and clear, and a sweet calm gradually took possession of her
breast. During the last day or two of her life she could
not speak so as to be heard distinctly, but the third day
before her spirit took its flight, she said to her friend, " I
am going — the struggle will soon be over : I am happy — I
am happy ;" and on the day six weeks after I first saw her,
she was carried to her grave.
Standing, as it were, by her side once more, I would
close this history with a word of advice to those who attend
the sick and dying. The greatest proof of love to your
afflicted friends is, to act towards them with Christian fidel-
ity. That is a false tejiderness which would lead a saint or
a sinner to attempt to draw comfort from a blameless moral
life ; and, alas, it is a bad sign that any should wish to
administer such poor consolation. It is but too plain that
their own views, both of sin and salvation, are very defective.
Mr. Cecil mentions a case of this kind. He had been con-
versing with an afflicted man about the evils of his conduct,
when his wife interiTipted Mr. Cecil, by assuring him that
her husband had been an excellent man. " Silence," said
the dying penitent, "it is all true !"
Something not unlike this took place at the dying bed
of Miss P. Her friend and benefactress praised her, and
wondered how one who had lived as she had done could
now be distressed — but it would not do. A wounded spirit —
a conscience burdened with guilt — rejects all such sup-
port ! 0 ye that stand around the dying bed, do not flatter.
I must have a Saviour, or I am lost — a Redeemer, or I
perish. Take away every false prop- — break down every
refuge of lies — strip the sinner of everj^ self-righteous plea,
and then pour in spiritual consolation.
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
]\o. an
PRAYER.
BY THE REV. SETH WILLISTON
The above title suggests a duty which ought to precede
the reading of this paper. Pause, reader, pause and pray —
pray for the blessing of God on this Tract. Without his
blessing, it will promote the spirit of prayer neither in
yourself nor others.
A due examination of this duty will lead us to consider
its obligation, its nature, its benefits, and the proper occasions
for its performance.
I. OBLIGATION TO PRAYER.
The Scriptures clearly inculcate the duty of prayer.
1. By precejJt. Of the repeated injunctions of the Old
Testament, I shall introduce but this one : " Thus saith the
Lord God, I will yet for this be inquired of by the house
of Israel, to do it for them." Ezek. 36 : 37. God here
expresses his purpose to bestow the blessings of his grace
only in answer to the supplications of his people. The New
Testament abounds with precepts requiring the performance
of this duty. Christ urged it with great frequency and
earnestness. He said, "Ask — seek — knock — watch and
pray." "He spake a parable to this end, that men ought
always to pray, and not to faint." Luke 11:9; 18:1;
Matt. 26': 41. Paul, Peter, James, John, and Jude, who
were employed by the Holy Ghost to write all the inspired
epistles, did not one of them fail to inculcate the duty in
question. Rom. 12 : 12 ; Ephes. 6:18; Phil. 4:6; Col.
4 : 2 ; 1 Thess. 5:17; 1 Pet. 4:7; James 5:16; 1 John,
5 : 14-16; Jude, verse 20.
2 PRAYER.
2. By example. Those who lived before the flood called
on the name of the Lord. Gen. 4 : 26. Abraham, Isaac,
and Jacob, are all described as men of prayer. Gen. 18 : 23-
83; 24:63; 32: 9-32. Those illustrious decendants of
theirs, whose names adorn the pages of sacred history —
statesmen and monarchs, as well as priests and prophets —
are all represented as men who had communion with God.
What reader of the Old Testament history is ignorant of
the fact, that a spirit of devotion marked the character of
such men as Moses, Joshua, Samuel, David, Asa, Jehosha-
phat, Hezekiah, Elijah, Ezra, Nehemiah, and Daniel ; and
of such women as Hannah, Deborah, and Esther?
The worthies of the New Testament, both male and
female, are described as persons who conscientiously re-
garded this duty. We know this was the case with Christ
himself. He prayed much. To engage in this duty, he
arose early and sat up late : he was known to continue all
night in prayer to God. Mark 1:35; 0:46, 47; Luke
6:12.
3. The Scriptures inculcate this duty as universal. ''I
will," said one who spake as he was moved by the Holy
Ghost, ''that men pray everywhere." As we can never
remove from under the dominion of the Most High, nor
cease to need his merciful protection, we can never be freed
either from the obligation or necessity of prayer. Daniel,
residing at Babylon, the seat of a pagan empire, felt both.
Nehemiah prayed at Shushan, as well as at Jerusalem ; Jo-
nah, in the whale's belly ; and Paul and Silas, in the prison.
This duty extends its claims to all classes of society— to
men in secular life as well as those in the holy ministry ; to
rulers as well as private citizens ; to the rich as well as the
poor. None are so exalted as to be above, nor so depressed
as to be below, either the obligation or privilege of prayer.
The servant of Abraham prayed to the same God to' which
PRAYER. 3
his master prayed, and was equally accepted. From the
claims of this duty no age nor condition in life is exempt.
" Both young men and maidens, old men and children, let
them praise the name of the Lord." The little child as well
as the aged man, should kneel before the Lord his Maker.
Psalm 148 : 12, 13 ; 1 Samuel, 1 : 28 ; Luke 2 : 49, 52.
4. The Scriptures represent this duty as essential to
Christian character. "Just and devout" — '' mvinof alms
unto the people, and praying to God always," are joined
together to constitute the character of the good man. Luke
2 : 25 ; Acts 10 : 2. None are considered as giving more
certain indications of a wicked heart than those who say,
" What is the Almighty, that we should serve him ? and
what profit shall we have, if we pray unto him ?" Job
21 : 15. An immoral life is not a surer index of an un-
sanctified heart, than a life without prayer. ISTor is it any
more certain, that a renovation of heart will transform the
immoral into a moral man, than that it will convert the
prayerless into a praying man. "Behold, he prayeth," is
the Scripture announcement of a sinner's conversion to
God ; and a neglect of this duty is considered as furnishing
sufficient proof of the unsoundness of any man's religion,
however promising it once may have been. Acts 9 : 11 ;
Job 21 : 10.
II. THE NATURE OF PRAYER.
Though the Scriptures thus inculcate the obligation to
prayer, they are very far from approving every thing which
bears the name. The Pharisees made long prayers, and yet
to the holy Jesus no class of sinners were more offensive.
Matt. 5 : 20 ; 6 : 5. It concerns us all to know what are
the essential characteristics of that prayer which God will
accept. The Scriptures represent it under a variety of
phraseology, as " drawing near to God " — " speaking unto
the Lord " — " declaring to him our ways " — " pouring out
4 PRAYER.
our heart before him " — " coming to the throne of grace,"
etc. Psalm 73 : 28 ; Gen. 18 : 27 ; Psalm 119 : 26 ; 62 : 8 ;
Heb. 4 : 16. It has, by men uninspired, been well defined
to be " the offering up of our desires to God, for things
agreeable to his will." Without desires there can be no
prayer, and none that is good except the desires be holy ;
and these must be offered up to God. There may be
prayer without the prostration of the body, or the moving
of the hps, but not without the lifting up of the soul to
God. Psalm 25 : 1.
Prayer is the language of dependence. It is poverty and
emptiness, coming to infinite fulness for supplies — ignorance,
coming to wisdom for instruction and guidance — weakness,
leaning on almighty strength — pollution, repairing to the
fountain which is opened for sin and uncleanness — ^guilt,
pleading, not for a repeal of the law, but for the forgiveness
of sin through an infinite atonement. To be prepared to
engage in this duty, we must be humble. The pride of our
heart must be brought down, and the Lord alone exalted.
We must have faith ; believing that God is, and that he is
infinitely great and good ; both able and willing to answer
prayer. Nor can we be prepared to pray unless we exer-
cise repentance for sin ; for if we regard iniquity in our
heart, the Lord will not hear us.
A suhmisslve sjjirit is another requisite for prayer. The
acceptableness of the duty is increased as much by the coi--
diality of our submission, as by the strength of our faith.
In our Saviour's prayer in the garden of agony, his submis-
sion, though wonderfully great, did not imply either the
absence or weakness of his trust in God. Indeed, the
graces of the Spirit, among which faith and submission hold
a conspicuous place, do not seek each other's destruction ;
on the contrary, they afford mutual aid in rendering prayer
both more acceptable and prevalent.
PRAYER. 5
A forgiving sjnrit is not less essential to the duty, than
faith and submission. On this point our divine Teacher is
very exjDlicit : " When ye stand praying, forgive, if ye, have
aught against any ; that your Father also, which is in heaven,
may forgive you your trespasses." While we are in the
attitude of prayer, pleading with God to forgive us, we
must do the same towards our fellow-men from whom we
have received injuries.
As prayer includes tJianksgiving for favors received, a
thankful sinrit is indispensable to a right performance of
the duty. Isa. QQ : 2 ; Heb. 11:6; Psalm 66 : 18 ; Matt.
26 : 39 ; Mark 11 : 25 ; Phil. 4 : 6.
In prayer we have concern with each of the Persons of
the Godhead. We address the Father, in the name of the
Son, by the special aid of the Sjnrit. This is all spread be-
fore us in one short verse : ''For through IIi?n we both have
access by one Sjnrit unto the Father.'" Ephes. 2:18. The
Son directs us to pray to the Father in his name. Should
we forget this direction, and venture to go in our own name,
our petitions will remain unanswered. It is equally necessary
that we remember our dependence on the Holy Spirit, lest,
by rejecting his proffered aid, and trusting in our own gifts,
we incur the guilt, like Nadab and Abihu, of offering strange
fire before the Lord. Rom. 8 : 26, 27 ; Jude 20 ; Lev. 10:1.
Should our devotions be regulated by the best of forms, still,
if the Spirit do not help oui' infirmities, we cannot pray.
The matter of prayer is very cojdIous. There is no sin
we commit, but it is to be confessed ; no mercy Ave need,
for the body or the soul, for ourselves or others, but we are
to ask it of God ; no favor received, for which we are not
to render thanks ; no duty to be done, nor affliction to be
borne, but we need help in it from God. " In every thing,"
said the apostle, '' by prayer and supplication, with thanks-
giving, let your requests be made known unto God." Phil.
VOL- viir, 15
6 PRAYER.
4 : 6. We are required to intercede for our children and
relatives, our civil rulers and spiritual guides, for the church
and the unbelieving world. Gen. 43 : 14 ; 25 : 21 ; 1 Tim.
2 : 1-3 ; Psalm 122 : 6; Rom. 10 : 1.
The burden of our petitions, however, should be for
those blessings which are spiritual and enduring. Of six
petitions in the Lord's prayer, only one relates to the
things of the present life. These are a mere scaffolding, on
which to stand while putting up an edifice that is to remain
when the earth and the works thereof shall be burnt up.
We should especially pray for the influences of the Holy
Spirit, which our Lord has represented as comprehending
all the good we need. Compare Matt. 7:11 with Luke
11: 13. The atonement is already made ; the Scriptures
are written ; the great blessing which now remains to be
received, is the gift of the Spirit. If this gift be withheld,
all other means will fail to effect the conversion of a single
sinner. Until the Spirit be poured from on high, the earth
will remain a moral wilderness. And when any part of it
is chansred into a fruitful field, and become the Lord's vine-
yard, it cannot retain its fruitfulness except by a continu-
ance of this divine watering, which it needs, not once a
year, but every moment. Isa. 32 : 15 ; 27:3.
The Scriptures, as we have seen, encourage us to bring
every thing into our prayers ; yet not into the same exer-
cise. The prayers we find in them are adapted to existing
circumstances. When Moses interceded for the children of
Israel, whom the Lord had threatened to destroy, he adapted
his petitions to the urgency of their case. When Solomon
prayed at the first opening of the temple, his prayer was
dedicatory. The Saviour's intercessory prayer, which he
made with his disciples just as he was about to leave them,
was peculiarly appropriate to that interesting occasion-
Exodus 32 : 31, 32 ; 1 Kino-s, 8 ; John 17.
PRAYER. 7
The prayers of the Bible also abound with arguments.
This is true of the prayers of Abraham, Jacob, Moses,
Joshua, David, Jehoshaphat, Hezekiah, Nehemiah, Daniel,
and also of the prayers of Christ. Gen. 18 : 23-33 ; 32 :
9-12 ; Num. 14 : 13-19 ; Josh. 7:7-9; Psalm 25 : 11 ; 2
Chron. 20 : 5-12 ; 2 Kings, 19 : 14-19; Neh. 1 ; Dan. 9 ;
John 17. The Lord's prayer concludes with three strong
arguments, or reasons, why the preceding petitions should
be granted. These arguments are not selfish. They all
honor God. We pray him to answer our requests, because
the kingdom, whose advancement is sought, is his own ;
the power to advance it is in his own hands ; and the glory
will redound to his own great name for ever. The more
perfectly we understand and love the character of God, and
the great principles he has adopted for the government of
his moral kingdom and the redemption of a fallen world,
and the more fully we imbibe the spirit of his holy word,
the better prepared we shall be to " order our cause before
him, and fill our mouth with arguments." Job 23 : 4.
The style of prayer demands consideration. This, when
the exercise is extemporaneous, depends wholly on the per-
son who leads. Rhetorical flourishes and bombastic ex-
pressions never appear so improper as in this exercise. Let
him who is speaking in prayer but keep in mind that he is
dust and ashes, addressing the Lord of heaven and earth ;
that he is a guilty sinner, pleading for pardon before the
mercy-seat ; and let him at the same time possess the spirit
of adoption, and it cannot fail to give solemnity, humility,
and a childlike simplicity to his attitude, voice, and language.
Violent gestures, a noisy utterance, and dictatorial and cen-
sorious language, are utterly incompatible with the nature
of this duty. Every thing calculated to give pain to devout
worshippers, or diminish our awe of the divine Majesty,
should be carefullv avoided.
8 PRAYER.
m. THE BENEFIT OF PRAYER.
1. It honors God. It is a practical acknowledgment of
his being, perfections, and providence, and of our entire
dependence on him for all we possess. Those creatures of
God who never repair to his mercy-seat to ask for needed
favors or counsel, virtually deny his existence. By such he
is not glorified. See Psalm 50: 23, with Mai. 3 : 13-15.
Is it not evident to all, that God is honored by the praying,
rather than by the prayerless man ; by tlie praying, rather
than by the prayerless family ; and by a praying commu-
nity, whether town, city, state, or kingdom, rather than by
such as call not on his name ?
2. Prayer 2^^'omotes both the sanctljication and enjoy-
ment of those loho engage in the duty. That immediate
converse we have with God when we pray, gives us uncom-
monly clear views of his being and perfections ; and the
acquaintance we form with ourselves, while on our knees
before him, is the most thorough and useful. Hence, prayer
greatly promotes repentance for sin. It also promotes faith
in Christ ; for we present all our petitions in his worthy
name. Here, also, we gain the most correct and impressive
views of divine Providence, tranquillizing our troubled minds,
and drawing forth our gratitude and praise. Nothing more
powerfully excites benevolent feelings towards our fellow-
men, enemies as well as friends, than to pray for them.
Indeed prayer, considered as a means of cleansing the heart
and improving the character, is of such importance that
none can be prepared for heaven without it.
Nor is it less essential to our enjoyment. " It is good
for me to draw near unto God," said one who knew what
nearness to God was. In prosperity no joy can be com-
pared with this ; and nothing is like it to sweeten the bitter
cup of affliction. " Is any among you afflicted," says an
apostle, "let him pray." James 5 : 13.
PRAYER. 9
One would suppose that without prayer, as the means
of relieving the troubled breast, the evils of the present
life would be quite insupportable. " I wonder," said an
aged saint, who had been speaking of the comforts he de-
rived from prayer and meditation during the wakeful hours
of night, " I wonder what those old people do for comfort,
who have such sleepless hours, and yet have no God to
think of or pray to."
3. Prayer is 'p'^'^^alent with God. It is the key which
unlocks the treasury of heaven. God has said to the chil-
dren of men, "Ask, and ye shall receive." And again he
has said, " Ye have not, because ye ask not." It is a most
meagre and defective view of the benefit of prayer, that it
consists merely in preparing the minds of those who pray
to receive blessings. Has the Scripture said in vain, " The
effectual fervent prayer of the righteous man availeth
much?" James 5 : 16. See also Zech. 10 : 1 ; Luke 11 :
13 ; Matt. 9:37, 38 ; 2 Thess. 3:1. If prayer has no
influence in obtaining blessings, why does it include inter-
cession ? The very object of this department of the duty
is to help others ; and frequently, those who are absent,
and know not that prayer is made for them. Do we not
pray for the sick, to obtain for them the blessing of health ?
Do not saints pray for sinners, to procure their conversion,
rather than for the purpose of preparing themselves to en-
joy it ? 2 Cor. 1:11; James 5 ; 15 ; Rom. 10 : 1.
Prayer, unlike all other means, exerts its infiuence on
God himself. Renouncing dependence on all created ob-
jects, we say unto God, " Neither know we what to do, but
our eyes are unto thee." 2 Chron. 20 : 12. That God
views the prayers of his people as designed to exert an
influence on himself, is made evident by his saying to
Moses, when he was about to intercede for the idolatrous
Israelites, " Let me alone." Exod. 32 : 10.
VOL. VII!._ 15*'
IQ PRAYER.
That the prayers of the righteous are prevalent with God,
appears also in the dispensations of his 2^rovidence and grace.
The prayers of Jacob at Peniel were prevalent. The prayers
of Moses and Joshua were also prevalent. So Avere the
prayers of Hannah, Samuel, and David. The Scriptures of
the Old Testament furnish many other instances of evident
answers to prayer. See Gen. 32 ; Ps. 106 : 23 ; Josh. 10:12
1 Sam. 1:27; T : 9-12 ; Ps. 18 : 6-50 ; 1 Kings, 18 : 36-45
2 Chron. 14 : 9-15 ; 20 : 5-30 ; 32 : 20-23 ; Ezra 8 : 21, 31
Neh. 1, 2 ; Dan. 9 : 21-23 ; Esther 4 : 16, compared with
the subsequent parts of the book. The New Testament his-
tory agrees with the Old in representing prayer as efficacious.
The ceaseless prayers of the church delivered Peter from
prison and from death. And surely that praying breath was
not spent in vain, which called down such a mighty influ-
ence, that in one day three thousand souls were turned from
the power of Satan unto God. See Acts 1:14, with 2:41;
12 : 5-17. To be the Hearer of prayer, is the memorial of
Zion's God throughout all generations. Ps. 65:2.
Could we have the history of the Christian church fully
placed before us, it would furnish innumerable cases where
fervent, united, and persevering prayer for the outpouring
of the Spirit, has been answered in the bestowment of this
greatest of all blessings. I well remember, many years
ago, when revivals of religion were less frequent in this
country, hearing a Christian pastor, who was watching for
souls, express strong confidence that the Lord was about to
pour out his Spirit on his people, assigning as his reason,
that the Jacobs among them were w^restling. A few
months after, on seeing him again, and inquiring, "Do
your Jacobs continue to Avrestle ?" he replied, with an over-
flowing heart, " The blessing has come." This case has
nothing peculiar in it ; the chronicles of " the Israel of
God" could furnish thousands of similar examples.
PRAYER. II
Who can tell what a multitude of the seed of God's
people have been brought into the fold of Christ in answer
to the prayers of their pious ixirents'^ The case of Moni-
ca, the mother of Augustine, whose fervent and long-con-
tinued prayers for her son were answered in his conversion
and singular usefulness to the cause of truth, is well known
in the history of the church. In a sketch, a few years
since, of the hfe of an aged Christian in the state of Maine,
it was particularly stated that he had been observed to pray
much for his children, and his children's children, and more
remote posterity ; not that they might abound in wealth,
but in grace, and the comforts of the Holy Ghost. And
when in a good old age he was gathered to his fathers, and
was followed to the grave by an uncommon number of de-
scendants, almost all of them who had come to mature
years, appeared to be the humble disciples of Christ.
Were every good man to write his own biography, there
would be found in it many a record similar to that of the
Psalmist : " Verily, God hath heard me ; he hath attended
to the voice of my prayer." He Avould state, at such and
such a time the Lord mercifully prepared my heart to pray ;
and in such and such ways he made it manifest that he had
caused his ear to hear. Psalm 66:19;10:1'7; 116:1,
2. The devout man rests satisfied that the prayer which
God requires, and which is dictated by his Spirit, is always
acceptable to him, and that it invariably procures either
the specific blessing sought, or something else which is pref-
erable. 2 Cor. 12 : 7, a.
Let it here be remembered, that the Scriptures do not
speak of the exclusive acceptableness of the prayers of the
righteous, with an intention to exempt the wicked from
obligation to pray ; nor, indeed, to discourage them from
attempting the duty ; but rather to make them feel the
necessity of an inward and radical change to render their
12 PRAYER.
prayers, and all their other performances, pleasing to a
holy God. As God commands all men everywhere to
repent, so he commands all men everywhere to pray ;
but he commands them to pray, "lifting up holy hands."
Acts 17 : 30; 1 Tim. 2 : 8. Living without prayer, God
may continue to 3^ou, for a time, the bounties of his provi-
dence, but the light of his countenance you have not ;
your sins are not forgiven, nor have you a single promise
relating to the life to come. And those gifts which you
have, without asking them of God, or giving him thanks
for them, will soon be remanded, and then, if not before,
you will be able to " discern between the righteous and the
wicked ; between him that serveth God, and him that serv-
eth him not." Mai. 3 : 18.
IV. THE OCCASIONS FOR PRAYER.
The apostle exhorts Christians to pray with " all prayer,"
that is, in all those ways which our various circumstances
and relations in society may call for. Two, and even many
of the humble disciples of Christ, may unite in the same
prayer, and with " one accord" — in the same adorations,
confessions, petitions, and ascriptions of praise. They will
feel that they are all the same guilty creatures, coming to
the same merciful Creator, and in the name of a common
Mediator. Such prayer, whether it be pronounced with
one mouth, or many using a common form, should unite
the hearts of all. No one should imagine he has prayed,
merely because he has heard another pray. It is a union
of souls, not an assemblage of bodies, which gives strength
to prayer. The Saviour taught his disciples that the agree-
ment of two would augment its prevalence. Matt. 18 : 19.
When Daniel had Nebuchadnezzar's dream with its inter-
pretation to find out, he applied to three of his country-
men, whom he knew to be men of prayer, to unite with
PRAYER. 1 3
him in desiring mercies of the God of heaven concerning
this secret ; assuming the principle, that a union of hearts
increases the prevalence of prayer. This is true, whether
they whose hearts are united should form a meeting for
social prayer, or should agree to present their common
request in their respective closets. The most important
branches of this duty are the following :
1. Sanctuary 2'>rayer. ISTone can doubt that prayer is
a proper exercise for the Lord's house. Christ called the
temple "a house of prayer," and the appellation is with
equal propriety applied to a Christian sanctuary. It is the
King's business which is here transacted, and He claims to
be consulted about it. Here the ordinances are adminis-
tered, and the officers of the church solemnly consecrated ;
and both these exercises are to be accompanied Avith prayer.
Matt. 26 : 26, 2Y ; Acts 14 : 23. Here, also, the Gospel
is preached, and it must be with the Holy Ghost sent down
from heaven, or it will be without effect. And surely we
cannot expect the descent of the blessed Spirit upon a
prayerless assembly. See 2 Chron. 30 : 27 ; Ezra 9 : 4-15 ;
Psalm 116 : 17-19 ; Matt. 11 : 25-30 ; Acts 6 : 4 ; 1 Cor.
14 : 14-17; 1 Tim. 2 : 1.
The prayers of the sanctuary are an interesting part of
its services. They ought to embrace a greater number of
objects than social prayer in general, but not to the exclu-
sion of a special remembrance of the wants of the assem-
bly. Prayer should not be substituted for preaching; it
should ever be considered as an address to God, not to the
people ; and yet the influence which is exerted on an as-
sembly by a solemn and devout prayer, is often as direct
and manifest as that exerted by preaching.
2. Prayer -meetings. In such meetings, Christians are
advantageously situated to strive together in their prayers
to God, for the advancement of his kingdom. Such was
14 PRAYER.
the meeting held by the one hundred and twenty disciples
in the upper room, before the great effusion of the Spirit
on the day of Pentecost; and that also at the house of
Mary, where many were gathered together to pray for the
liberation of Peter. This class of meetings may be either
ordinary, to ask for those blessings Avhich Ave always stand
in need of, or extraordinary, to pray for some particular
object, the importance of which is suggested by passing-
events, 'Not being designed for those services which are
peculiar to the pastor, they do not necessarily require his
presence, or that of any of the officers of the church. But,
if wholly composed of its officers — and is it not desirable
that this should sometimes be the case ? — still, they would
be prayer-meetings. Would we have these seasons of de-
votion interesting and profitable, we must remember them
beforehand, in our closets, and go to them with praying-
hearts. Nor ought those to neglect this preparation who
do not expect to lead in these exercises. Let a company of
praying people come together in a prayerful frame, and
they can hardly fail to have a profitable prayer-meeting.
The reading of some short and pertinent passage from the
Scriptures, or from some religious book or periodical, brief
and well-adapted remarks or exhortations, and songs of
praise, may help to quicken their devotions. When the
meeting is more particularly intended for conference and
discussion, as is doubtless sometimes desirable, a greater
portion of the time may be occupied in reading and conver-
siition. But whether it be called a conference, or a prayer-
meeting, it ought ever to be sanctified by the spirit of de-
votion, and the love of the truth. However lightly many
may think of these unostentatious assemblies, they have
been found almost indispensable to the Christian's growth
in grace, and greatly instrumental in bringing forward and
sustaining revivals of religion.
PRAYEH. 15
The montlily concert, observed on the first Monday of
every month, is a prayer-meeting, and one of uncommon
interest. It extends to all nations where the Christian re-
ligion is embraced in its purity. It came into existence
simultaneous!}^ with the missionary and other benevolent
institutions of these latter days ; and when it is viewed in
connection with the special eftbrts now making by the va-
rious denominations of evangelical Christians, it may be
considered as their united declaration, that they feel them-
selves entirely dependent on God for success in all their
attempts for the conversion of the world. Could we see
this concert observed by greater numbers, and with a deep-
er interest — could we have reason to believe that every
Christian observed it, either in a social or a secret manner,
presenting both prayers and pecuniary offerings, we should
have ground for strong hopes of the near approach of mil-
lennial glory. Some other days are also set apart by Chris-
tians, to pray in concert for particular objects. That for
Sabbath-schools is somewhat extensiv^ely observed, on the
second Monday in the month. These, and numerous other
objects, are of sufficient importance to draAv forth many of
the prayers of Zion.
3. Praijev among select friends. We read of Christ's
praying with the twelve, and also of his selecting three of
their number to go up with him into a mountain to pray.
Luke ^ : 28. There is perhaps no social prayer so sweet as
that which is made by a few select friends, who, concerning
the things of the kingdom of God, are every way like-
minded. In its freedom from restraint it resembles the
devotions of the closet, and at the same time receives
strength by a union of hearts ; and while it brings the wor-
shippers near to God, it has a powerful influence in pro-
moting among themselves what the apostolic benediction
implores for all saints, '' The ronunyvion of the Holy Ghost.'*
16 PRAYER.
Under this head may be included those seasons of prayer
which Christians sometimes do, and should oftener, connect
with their social visits. An interview designed to be closed
with prayer, will, on this very account, be rendered more
edifying. Who has not been affected in reading the narra-
tive of Paul's taking his leave of the Ephesian elders at
Miletus, and of other friends on the shore at Tyre? In
both these instances the parting prayer is to the pious reader
the most affecting particular. Acts 20 : 36 ; 21:5.
This kind of social prayer will include those seasons,
either occasional or stated, Avhen a few Christian friends
meet on purpose to unbosom the emotions of their hearts
to each other, and to their heavenly Father. It is doubt-
less entirely proper that meetings of this class should often
be wholly composed oi females. When the Scriptures nar-
rate the devout praises of Moses and the children of Israel
at the Red Sea, they add that Miriam took a timbrel in her
hand, and all the women went out after her. After Esther
had given a charge to Mordecai to gather the Jews of Shu-
shan to keep a fast, she adds, I also and my maidens will
fast likewise. Exod. 15 : 20, 21 ; Esther 4, : 16. See also
Judges 21 : 21 ; Luke 1 : 38-56. There are many pious
females, Avho, without neglecting their domestic concerns,
or withdrawing themselves from the public prayer-meetings,
can devote an hour or two each week to a meeting of their
own ; and there is reason to beheve that meetings of this
description are at this moment exerting a very happy influ-
ence in raising the tone of female piety, in promoting the
charitable objects of the day, and in calling down the bless-
ing of the Holy Spirit.
4. Family ]irayer. All the families of the earth ought
to call on the name of the Lord, and have reason to fear the
pouring out of his fury upon them if they refuse to do it.
Jer. 10: 25. No house should be without its family altar.
PRAYER. 17
Abraham, the father of all who have true faith, set us a
worthy example : wherever he pitched his tent, he erected
an altar, and called on the name of the Lord. Joshua
resolved, "As for me and my house, we will serve the
Lord." David worshipped in the sanctuary, and then
returned to bless liis household. Gen. 12 : V, 8 ; 13:18;
Joshua 24 : 15; 2 Samuel, 6 : 20. Our Saviour, whose
example is law, observed this duty as far as his circum-
stances in life permitted. He had no other family than his
twelve disciples: with these he daily ate, travelled, and
conversed ; and with these he prayed. By his praying
sometimes with the whole number, and at other times with
a part, has he not encouraged parents to adopt a similar
practice in relation to their children? Luke 9 : 18 ; 11 : 1,
with 9:28, and Matthew 26 : 36, 37. Every precept which
requires parents religiously to educate their children, obliges
them to the performance of this duty. To profess to bring
them up "in the nurture and admonition of the Lord," and
yet not pray Avith them — what can be more contradictory ?
The spirit and order of family worship are of great im-
portance. At the regular hours for its observance, parents,
children, and domestics, should all be assembled in one
place, and their business be discontinued, while the word of
God is read, or his praises sung, and the throne of grace
addressed. All should listen to the reading, and join in the
other exercises. The greater the number of praying souls
in the domestic circle, the more interest will it give to this
exercise. When the father and the mother are both heirs
of the grace of life, and live in character, their prayers will
not be hindered, and may be expected to avail before God.
1 Peter, 3 : 1-7. And when the children and servants
become heirs of the same grace, that house may truly be
called a Bethel, a house of prayer.
It is to be res^retted that this service should ever be
VOL. VIII. 16
18 PRAYER.
rendered tedious by long, formal, and inappropriate pray-
ers. An understanding richly enlightened with divine truth,
and a heart warmed with divine love, constitute the best
preparation for the duty, and will render the exercise edify-
ing, whether brief, or more protracted. The state of the
family, the chapter which is read, or the hymn which is
sung, may all suggest matter for the prayer. The family
sins should be confessed, their mercies acknowledged, and
their wants spread before the mercy-seat. All are to be
prayed for collectively, and if circumstances call for it, indi-
vidually. Such particularity arrests attention. In a family
of the writer's acquaintance, a little girl at the age of eight
appeared to become a subject of renewing grace, whose
attention was first arrested at the family altar by hearing
her father pray for the children. In that branch of domes-
tic worship already hinted at, when the family are taken
in smaller portions, or individually, into the secret chamber,
the petitions can be more minutely specific and adapted.
Dr. Cotton Mather had fifteen children, and hved to see the
greater part of them die in the Lord. When they were
capable of understanding him, he would take them alone,
one by one, and after many affectionate admonitions to the
child, would pray with him and make him the witness of the
ao-onies and strono^ cries with which, on his behalf, he ad-
dressed the throne of grace.
In this department of the worship of the family, Chns-
tian mothers are under obligation to take a large share.
This falls within their appropriate sphere of action ; and it
gives them opportunity to labor advantageously for the sal-
vation of their beloved offspring. Prov. 31 : 2. "Wlien tlie
father is absent from home, or the mother is left in widow-
hood, she becomes the head of the family, and to her it
belongs to offer the daily sacrifice of prayer and praise on
the domestic altar.
PRAYER. 19
The giving of thanks at our meals is comprehended in
family worship. This practice is enforced by the example
of our divine Lord, who gave thanks not only at the sacra-
mental supper, but repeatedly at other meals. Luke 9:16;
24: 30. Paul, on board the ship, "took bread and gave
thanks to God in presence of them all." Acts 27 : 35.
This act of worship, though very brief, is one which fre-
quently renews its claims upon us, and is too important to
be neglected, or performed in a cold and formal manner.
There are other occasions for social prayer, of which the
limits of this Tract allow only a very brief notice.
5. Praijer connected with pastor al visits. It is expressly
required that the elders of the church should pray with the
sick. James 5 : 14, 15. Prayer is very properly connected
with other pastoral visits. As the ministers of Christ are
under obligation to teach, not only in public, but from house
to house, so their corresponding duty is prayer in private
families as well as in the public assembly. Nor can any
doubt the propriety of connecting prayer with the religious
visits which are made by the subordinate officers of the
church, or by other members appomted to this service.
6. Prayer in schools. Prayer is a suitable exercise in
schools of every description — not only in those devoted to
relisrious instiiiction, as Sabbath-schools and theolos^ical
seminaries, but also in schools of science. Nothing is of
greater moment to the welfare of our country than the char-
acter of its schools. In these the children and youth of our
land are preparing to act on the stage of life ; and it is
inconceivably important that they all should be exerting a
good influence on the youthful character. The blessing of
God should be implored on them all, by the religious com-
munity, and in them all, by their respective teachers. From
the university down to the infant school, none should be
without prayer — solemn, affectionate, and appropriate pray-
20 PRAYER.
er. It is calculated, perhaps above all other means, to
impress the minds of the yomig ; and is the appointed way
of calling down upon them the blessing of heaven.
7. Prayer connected ivith the transaction of imhlic busi-
ness. " He, whose name alone is Jehovah, is the Most High
overall the earth" — "the Governor among the nations."
He requires that we should acknowledge him in all our
ways ; and this requisition extends to us in our national, as
w^ell as individual capacity. What can be more strictly
proper, than the practice of opening our legislative assem-
hlies with a solemn and devout recognition of our depend-
ence on Him, and of his supreme dominion over us. How
suitable, that the legislators of the nation should come, in
the attitude of prayer, to the divine Lawgiver, to ask him
to assist them to frame such laws for the nation, as shall
resemble the laws he has made for the universe ; and to
preserve them from enacting any law which shall contravene
his own. ISTor is it less proper that courts of justice should
be opened by solemn prayer to God. He is the " Judge of
all the earth ;" yet he concerns himself with the proceedings
of all the inferior courts throughout his extensive dominion.
"Take heed," said king Jehoshaphat to the judges of his
courts, " Take heed what ye do ; for ye judge not for man,
but for the Lord, who is with you in the judgment, . Where-
fore now let the fear of the Lord be upon you : take heed and
do it ; for there is no iniquity with the Lord our God, nor
respect of persons, nor taking of gifts." 2 Chron. 19 : 6,
7. Let such sentiments as these impress the pubhc mind,
and prayer to God will accompany the administration of
justice; prayer, that judges, jurors, and counsellors may
possess discernment and impartiality ; that witnesses may
be preserved from perjury or the misrepresentation of
facts ; and that righteous decisions may in every instance
be given.
PRAYER 21
Two very important departments of solitary prayer re-
main to be considered.
8. Ejaculatory grayer. This branch of devotion has no
restrictions of time or place. It can be breathed out in sol-
itude, or in the midst of company. It may be so intense
as to divert our attention from every other pursuit, or it
may coexist with vigorous exercises of the body and mind.
It may accompany the godly man while employed in the
labors of his field or shop, and the godly woman in the
labors of her house. It may be protracted through all the
hours of the day, whether we are at home or abroad, with-
out interrupting our business or our journey. It was in
ejaculatory prayer that the mother of Samuel poured out
her soul before the Lord. 1 Sam. 1:13. This is the kind of
prayer which Nehemiah offered to the King of heaven at
the very moment when presenting his petition to the king
of Persia. Nehemiah 2 : 4. The meditations in which
holy David seemed so much to delight, Avere filled with
adorations, confessions, petitions, and thanksgivings. The
longest and most devotional of all his psalms, every verse
of which expresses his high regard for the inspired word,
appears to be a collection of such ejaculations as from time
to time he had breathed out into the bosom of his God.
This is a branch of devotion to which no true Christian
can be a stranger : prayer is the breath of every one who is
born of God. Lam. 3 : 56 ; Acts 9 : 11. It may be so
increased as to fill up all the vacancies of our time, sanctify
all the business of life, and sweeten all its bitter cups, even
at the very moment Avhen we are drinking them off. The
more constantly our hearts are engaged in holy aspirations
to God, the better will be our preparation to attend on all
the stated services of religion. This, like the fire which
was ever kept burning upon the altar, will kindle every
sacrifice. Levit. 6 : 13.
VOL. VIII. 16*
22 PRAYER.
9. Closet prayer. Though a closet is a small apartment
within the house, our Saviour used the word to mean any-
place where, with no embarrassment, either from the fear
or pride of observation, we can freely pour out our hearts in
prayer to God. The devotions of the closet require both
time and i^lace. That this Avas the Saviour's view of the
matter, we learn both from what he taught and practised.
He taught us, when we were about to pray to our Father
in secret, to '• enter into our closet and shut the door."
This direction lays us under obligation to take pains to re-
tire from business and company. And his own example is
proof, that, by entering into the closet and shutting the
door, he meant we should go into a place of retirement.
At one time we read of his departing, unaccompanied by
any of his disciples, into a solitary place to pray ; and at
another, of his going up into a mountain apart to pray.
Mark 1 : 35 ; Matt. 14 : 23. Jacob's prayer at Peniel be-
longs to this class of devotions ; and to prepare himself to
engage in it, he dropped all business from his hands, and
secluded himself from the society of his own family.
Ejaculatory prayer, as we have seen, is of great impor-
tance ; yet the prayer of the closet has the preeminence.
This excels the other in its tendency to promote depth of
feeling, intimacy of communion, and importunity of desire.
To preserve the distinction between these two kinds of
secret devotion, is of greater importance to a life of piety
than many imagine. A whole day of fervent ejaculations,
whether we are at home or on a journey, does not release
us from obligation to remember the closet exercises of the
evening.
Does the duty of 'prayer require any stated seasons for
its perforrtiance ? " Stated seasons," said the pious Baxter,
*'are the hedge of duty." He said the truth; for the
breaking down of the hedge which incloses your field.
PRAYER. 23
would not more certainly expose the crop to be destroyed,
than the relinquishment of stated seasons for your religious
duties would expose the soul to famish. It has been ob-
jected, that such regularity in religious exercises is unfavor-
able to devotion, and that it even implies a denial of our
dependence on the help of the Spirit. But the divine ap-
pointment of the weekly Sabbath shows that God is not
offended with regularity in our devotions ; and the daily
sacrifice, offered every morning and evening in the church
of Israel, is a valid argument in favor of the regular worship
of God every morning and evening through the whole week.
Concernino^ Solomon, or rather one o-reater than Solomon, it
is said, " Prayer also shall be made for him continually, and
daily shall he be praised." Psalm 72 : 15. "Everyday,"
said the devout Psalmist, " will I bless thee." Psalm 145:2.
In the life of Christ, who is our supreme example, particuhu-
mention is made of his morning and evening devotions.
Family and closet prayer should be considered as daily
duties ; and neither of them be less frequent than moraing
and evening. And between these two extreme parts of the
day, the distance seems too great to be passed over without
some intervening regular devotion. Is it not practicable for
most to have a stated season for closet prayer in the middle
of the day ? At this hour Peter went up upon the house-
top to pray. Acts 10:9. Among the pious resolutions of
a king, who was far from being neglectful of the concerns
of his kingdom, this was one : " Evening and morning, and
at noon, will I pray." Psalm 55 : 17. This is also record-
ed among the pious practices of one of the most fully occu-
pied men who ever held an office in a king's court. Dan.
6:10. The closet requires stated seasons, and of frequent
recurrence, which must not be passed by : nor are these
enough to satisfy the man of prayer. In a duty of such
vital importance, and one which is so much under individual
24 PRAYER.
control, it would indicate a low state of piety, always to
wait for the return of the regular seasons. Every man
who feels for the honor of God, and the interest of religion
in his own heart, in his own family, and in the world, has
much that he wishes to carry to God in prayer. And the
closet is eminently the place where he unburdens himself,
and fills his mouth with arguments. Here he pleads for
others as well as himself. He brings before God many in-
dividual cases, both of believers and unbelievers. Here he
can tell his Father who seeth in secret, every thing that he
hopes, and every thing he fears concerning himself and the
individuals for whom he intercedes. Is there not reason to
conclude it was principally in the closet that Paul made so
many prayers for particular chuixhes and individual be-
lievers ? See Rom. 1:9; Ephes. 1 : 15, 16 ; Phil. 1 : 3, 4 ;
Col. 1:3; 1 Thess. 1:2; 2 Tim. 1:3; Philemon ver. 4.
A sketch has now been given of the various kinds of
prayer, both social and secret, none of which can be omit-
ted without great hazard to the soul. Between these dif-
ferent kinds of prayer there is a perfect harmon}-. Ejacu-
lations will seek to find a closet, and the exercises of the
closet Avill lead to the family altar, and the sanctuary. Se-
cret duties are, however, peculiarly indispensable ; since,
without these, piety can have no existence in any heart.
These, indeed, are the only duties w^hich the child of God
can be sure of enjoying. His situation may be such, at
least for a season, as to shut him out of the sanctuary ; and
he may hold such a subordinate place in the domestic cir-
cle as to be unable to enjoy family worship ; but should he
be placed in servitude, exile, or the prison, he can pray to
his Father in secret. Nothing but a prayerless heart can
prevent this intercourse with God.
There is an appendage, that the Scriptures sometimes
connect with prayer, both social and solitary, which I know
PRAYER. 25
not how to pass over unnoticed. I refer to fasting. Christ
himself fasted, and his disciples frequently connected fast-
ing with their prayers. It is a solemn accompaniment, to
which there is a peculiar propriety in resorting in times of
exigency, whether in relation to ourselves, our families, the
church, or the nation. Our Lord, when speaking of the
ejection of an unclean spirit, said, " This kind goeth not out
but by prayer and fasting," Matt. 17 : 21 ; and may we not
conclude that the adversary of souls, who is still abroad in
the earth, will not be expelled and confined to his prison
until there has first been much prayer and fasting? Let
those who are anxious to see the earth freed from his pol-
luting influence, not wait for public fasts to be proclaimed
by church or state ; but, like David, and Nehemiah, and
Daniel, and Anna, let them appoint fasts for themselves.
See 2 Sam. 12 : 16; Nehem. 1:4; Dan. 9:3; Luke
2 : 37. Before that foul spirit shall be cast out,, and the
earth filled with the glory of the Redeemer's kingdom,
there is reason to believe that, among other means to effect
this glorious revolution, there Avill be a great multiplication
of secret fasts. Matt. 6 : 16-18; Zech. 12 : 10-14.
Christians, I cannot close my remarks on this practi-
cal subject without a solemn appeal to you. I address not
mere members of the church, but the spiritual members of
Christ. You constitute but a small part of the inhabitants
of the earth ; a small part of Christendom ; and it is to be
feared, the minority of Christian churches. Yet, in the
moral conflict in our Avorld, you alone constitute " God's
host;" while all the rest of the race form an opposing
army. The controversy is founded on the claims of Christ
to universal dominion. The side you have chosen — and 0,
how great the mercy which led you to make such a choice —
is the side which is approved by all holy beings, and
v/hich the Spirit of truth has foretold shall be victorious.
26 PRAYER.
*' These shall make war with the Ijamb, and the Lamb shall
overcome them : for he is Lord of lords, and King of kings ;
and they that are with him are called, and chosen, and
faithful." " The saints of the Most High shall take the
kingdom, and possess the kingdom for ever." Rev. 17 : 14 ;
Daniel 7:18. Christians, remember that great things are
to be effected by your instrumentality. It is under your
feet that the God of peace will shortly bruise Satan, that
fallen spirit who heads the opposition. Rom. 16 : 20.
The saints of the Most High are to take, as well as possess,
the kinordom ; and in the decisive battle, in which the Lamb
shall overcome, he is to be followed by a valiant band, even
such as are ''called, and chosen, and faithful."
As Christian warriors, you are furnished with many
weapons Avhich are mighty, through God, to pull down the
strong-holds of the enemy ; but none is more effectual than
p-ayer. It is a weapon peculiar to yourselves : not an in-
dividual of all the opposition can use it. It is the weapon
by which Israel of old gained the victory. But for the
hand lifted up to God in the heavens, Israel had been
discomfited, and Amalek had prevailed. Exod. 17. Their
prayer took hold on divine strength, and brought the
Mighty One of Jacob to their help. The millennium, the
thousand years of the Redeemer's reign, is drawing near,
but it can never be introduced until the spirit of prayer
shall be greatly increased. Before the earth can be made
to biing forth in one day, or a nation be born at once, Zion
must travail in agonizing prayer. Isa. 66 : 8. The God
of Zion has taken the mercy-seat, and is now waiting to
receive the petitions of his people. He has himself com-
manded us to be importunate in presenting them : " Ye
that make mention of the Lord, keep not silence, and give
him no rest, till he establish, and till he make Jerusalem a
praise in the earth." Isa. 62 : 6, 7.
PRAYER 27
Prayer is a peculiarly precious exercise, since it brings
us near to God, and keeps alive a sense of our dependence.
It is the nature of prayer to feel its dependence on God for
all things, even for its own existence ; you will, therefore,
not forget to pray that you may be 'prayerful. Cherish in
your hearts the spirit of devotion. Multiply your ejacula-
tory petitions, so that the meditation of your heart may be
truly acceptable in God's sight. Prize the closet. Rise
early, or sit up late ; or do both, to increase closet devo-
tions. Redeem time from business and recreations, from
unprofitable reading and conversation, to gain it for prayer.
Let yowY family worship become more spiritual. Frequent
prayer -meetings, if health and circumstances will permit,
and seek for the Divine presence to give life to the prayers
and interest to the whole exercise. Let the Lord's day be
to you, more than ever, a day of devotion ; and let the
Lord's liouse become, in a more emphatic sense, "■ the house
of prayer." Fill up every vacant moment after you have
entered the sanctuary, by silent petitions for the blessing of
God on its holy exercises.
Let prayer accompany every thing you undertake ; and
engage in nothing on Avhich you dare not implore God's
blessing. Pray that Christ's church on earth may become
more pure and spiritual — that its discipline may be effectual
— that it may be preserved from the deadening influence of
erroneous doctrines and immoral practices — that its minis-
ters may be qualified to discharge the duties of their sacred
office — and that its light, shed on the surrounding world,
may prove the means of converting multitudes to God.
Let there be much prayer for revivals of religion, that
they may be the genuine work of the Holy Spirit. Before
the latter day glory of the church shall arrive, there must
be such a measure of divine influence shed down on Gos-
pel lands as will altogether surpass any thing which has
28 PRAYER.
yet been experienced. And to prepare the way for this
ineffable blessing, there must be such a holy fervor, such a
sweet union, and such an unbroken hold in prayer, as we
have never yet known. Let us neither expect nor desire it
in any other way. The conversion of Christendom itself
would seem to call for all this prayerful ness ; and yet a
world of unbelieving Jews, Mahomedans, and Pagans, all
need our most fervent intercessions. Brethren, let us be
up and doing. Every thing within our power let us do to
estabhsh the reign of the Prince of peace. Let those who
have money give freely and liberally ; and to their pecun-
iary offerings let them add their prayers. Let those who
have qualifications, go into the field of labor, and bear the
heat and burden of the day ; and let them add much prayer
to their toilsome labors. And if there be any, among all
those whom God has laid under everlasting obligation by
the redemption of their souls, who can neither become la-
borers themselves, nor furnish money, let such do what
they can : let them give a holy example, and contribute lib-
erally of their prayers.
Has any prayerless sinner read these pages ? Dear,
precious immortal, we tremble for you. Continuing as you
are, your state is hopeless. To the great Hearer of prayer
you are unreconciled. But, through the atoning blood of
Christ, even you may come to his throne of mercy and be
accepted. ISTow, be entreated to hear and obey his voice of
warning and of love : " Seek ye the Lord while he may
be found, call ye upon him while he is near : let the wicked
forsake his wa}', and the unrighteous man his thoughts :
and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy
upon him ; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon."
Note. A premium of fifty dollars, offered by a friend, was
a^N'arded to the author of this Tract.
jVo. 272.
THE ADVANTAGES
OF
SABBATH-SCHOOLS,
While contemplating "the signs of the times," we have
sometimes thought, that "if the Holy Spirit were again, as
of old, to select twelve men with whom to finish the great
work of converting mankind," and for this purpose should
direct them to any special means, the estahlishment and con-
stant improvement of Sabbath-schools w^ould engage a
large portion of their attention.
By this remark we intend not to disparage any of the
grand and comprehensive schemes of modern benevolence
which contemplate the universal extension of the Redeem-
er's kingdom. No ; we view them all with unfeigned ap-
probation and delight. The Bible society, distributing to a
guilty world that volume from the throne of God, which is
able to make men "wise unto salvation;" the missionary
society, pouring its flood of heavenly light on the deep
darkness of heathen superstition and idolatry; the Tract
society, scattering its voiceless heralds of mercy where the
living preacher might never come — we cordially hail them
all as coworkers in the great enterprise of evangelizing
mankind, and hastening the dawn of millennial glory.
In view of these and kindred institutions, each moving
majestically onward in its appropriate walks of usefulness,
the estimate we have given of the importance of the Sab-
bath-school system, associated as it is Avith the familiar and
imassuming title of school, may seem to have been prompt-
ed by blind partiality or excited fancy. But the opinion
VOL. VTII. IT
2 THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS.
will scarce seem extravagant, if we consider the immense
moral influence which this institution is yet to exert in pro-
moting those two great ends of the divine administration,
the welfare of man, and the glory of God, That this
influence may be properly estimated, let us glance at the
advantages of the Sabbath-school system, as displayed in
the BENEFITS which it bestows, and the manner in which it
confers them. We remark, then, that
The Sabbath-school system provides, by its schools, for
the intellectual improvement of its 2^u2:>ils. This, though a
subordinate object, is one of incalculable importance in its
bearings on the character, usefulness, and happiness of
mankind. Perhaps no country, as a whole, aftbrds greater
facilities for the education of its population than our own,
and in no one certainly is education more valuable ; yet
even in this country the advantages of instruction are very
unequally distributed. Up to the present hour, eight of
our states and territories have no common-school system,
and in several others the operations of that system are well-
nigh paralyzed by the legislative limitation of its advan-
tages to those who are willing to call themselves "the
poor." And even where common-schools are most favora-
bly organized, and most successfully conducted, they are,
with few exceptions, inadequate to the wants of the rising
generation. This is peculiarly true of our Avestern and
middle states. According to an official statement, there
are, (1833,) in Pennsylvania, 250,000 children, between 5
and 15 years of age, who never see the inside of a school-
house ; and if that state be taken as a fair standard of com-
putation, there are, in our own favored land, two millions
and a half of children entirely destitute of common-school
instruction.
All these, however, ivill be educated in industry or in
idleness ; in knowledge, or in ignorance ; as good, or as evil
members of society. For want of common-school instruc-
tion., they are, for the most part, unable to acquire that
THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 3
knowledge whicli is the only safeguard of individual or na-
tional welfare, and are thus rendered liable to become, at
any moment, the victims of temptation and depravity.
Here, however, the Sabbath-school steps in to redeem them
from degradation and vice, and train them up for intelli-
gence and virtue. The common-school system, indeed,
aims at the same results, and those results, were it imiver-
sal, it might universally accomplish : but here it stops. Be-
yond this point its efforts are not even directed. And this
suggests what is the prominent, and one of the most strik-
ing characteristics of the Sabbath-school system.
Its great aim is, to provide for the thorough moral and
religious education of the rising generation. " Knowledge
is power ;" and the very best kind of power is that wisdom
which Cometh from above. One of the greatest blessings
which can be conferred upon man is intellectual and relig-
ious instruction ; the former to prepare him for respectability
and usefulness on earth, the latter to guide him to regions
of endless blessedness beyond the grave. The former, as
we have seen, the Sabbath- school system neglects not ; but
it looks beyond this, and with an eye fixed on the eternal
world, seeks to train up its pupils for glory, and honor, and
immortality. It is the only general system of education
which recognizes man in his true character as an intellectual
and moral being, possessed of a never-dying spirit, whose
capacities for enjoyment or misery must for ever expand,
and who must dwell for ever with angels and the redeemed,
amid the glories of heaven, or with devils and the damned,
in the woes of hell. It brings the Bible, with all its motives
of light and love, to instruct the understanding and sway the
affections — to bear upon the conscience and influence the
conduct. It throws around its pupils the powerful restrain-
ing influence of gospel truth, to fortify them against the
assaults of temptation, to fit them for the discharge of the
relative duties of life, and to prepare their minds for the
cordial reception of divine truth.
4 THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS.
Such an education affords the strongest assurance, that
the individual on whom it is conferred will prove a blessing
to himself and a blessing to society — will be happy on
earth, and happy in heaven. Such an education is the
highest boon that man can confer upon his fellow-man ;
for, if properly improved, it will guide him in safety through
all his pilgrimage, afford him light in darkness, consolation
in affliction, joy in sorrow, support in trial, victory in con-
flict, and life eternal in the midst of death.
But more than this ; in every age and country, the
character and virtue of a people, the prosperity which they
enjoy, and the institutions which they possess, depend al-
most entirely upon the nature of their instruction. And
what means are better adapted to promote the highest in-
terests of a nation in these respects, than the correct relig-
ious education of the individuals composing it ? What but
this can raise them from the savage to a civilized state ;
from slaves to citizens ; from the grossness of sensuality to
the dignified enjoyment of cultivated life ? What will so
effectually diminish their temptations to crime, give a proper
direction to their valuable qualities, control those which are
dangerous and hurtful, and even render them subservient
to the best interests of society? These are questions of
the deepest interest to the philanthropist and the Christian.
And while *'the Avorld is impelled, with such violence, in
opposite directions ; while a spirit of giddiness and revolt
is shed abroad upon the nations, the only safety is in the
improvement of the mass of the people in knowledge, prob-
ity, and the fear of the Lord. In the neglect of these, the
politeness and refinement of knowledge accumulated in the
higher orders, weak and impotent, will be exposed to the
most imminent danger, and will perish like a garland in the
grasp of popular fury."
Yes, the only security is to be found in early religious
instruction. This, the Sabbath-school, supplying parental
neglect or deficiency, or assisting parental faithfulness, at-
THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATII-SCHOOLS. 5
tempts to furnish. It acts on the principle that the immor-
tal soul cannot be too early instructed in its duties and its
prospects ; that the best, if not the only Avay of preserving
the mind from error, is to store it abundantly with religious
knowledge ; that the surest pledge of habitual obedience
is a memory richly furnished with Scripture truths, which
in the hour of temptation shall prompt the warning voice
of conscience, or, like ministering spirits, sweetly whisper,
**This is the way, walk ye in it." It affords, also, the best
foundation for enlightened piety. Ignorance is not the
mother of devotion, but sound religious instruction is the
best preservative from superstition, fanaticism, and infideli-
ty. Facts testify, that of those who, at the present day,
become truly converted to God, a krge proportion are
those who have been brought up in Sabbath-schools. Of
Y87 hopefully converted to God in one district, within a
year, 592 were either teachers or pupils of Sabbath-schools.
In another district, reports from 50 towns give 150 teachers
and 522 scholars, who, in a single year, made a profession
of rehgion. During the first 14 years of the New York
Sunday-school Union, 1,871 teachers and scholars made a
profession of their faith in Christ, of whom 110 entered
upon the study of divinity. Not less than 5,000 teachers,
and 10,000 scholars, are estimated by the annual report of
the American Sunday-school Union to have been convert-
ed in the year ending May, 1832. The number of conver-
sions of persons connected with Sunday-schools, reported
during the first eight years of the existence of that society,
was 26,393. A multitude of other concurrent facts might
be adduced. Thus, by providing for the thorough religious,
scriptural education of its pupils, the Sabbath-school sys-
tem, both by its direct and indirect influence, accomplishes
an incalculable amount of good for the benefit of society,
for the happiness of individuals on earth, and for tlie future
welfare of the undying spirit.
But another and highly important feature of the Sab-
VOL. VIII. " 17*
:Q THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS.
bath-scliool system is, that it aims to 2^^'ovide suitable read-
me/ for all who are within the sphere of its influence. *' Let
me write the ballads of a nation," said a discriminating ob-
server of human nature — " let me write the ballads of a
nation, and I care not who makes its laws." The remark
was founded on a careful observation of the causes which
form and modify national character, and it suggests the
intimate connection which ever exists between popular feel-
ing and the healthful moral sentiment of a community.
But if such be the influence of ballads, how vast the influ-
ence of the entire reading of all the childreyi and youth of a
country. And when we remember that the annual increase
of our reading population is not far from 300,000, how
deeply important does it appear, that this influence be so
directed as to promote the best interests of society, and the
glory of God. That they may further, as far as possible,
this great object, the American Sunday-school Union have
assumed the responsible duty of providing rational and
profitable reading for children and youth of our land, and
are now preparing and sending forth books which cultivate
the taste, improve the mind, recommend the institutions
and enjoin the duties of Christianity, and urge upon the
conscience and the heart the claims of personal religion.
These little books are read by pupils and teachers. They
are carried home, there to be taken up by those who would
shrink from the task of perusing a larger volume. Their
simplicity engages the mind and wins the attention, and
brings the individual under the persuasive influence of exam-
ple and precept. The old and the young read them with
delight. The man of business takes them up in his mo-
ments of leisure, and the parent reads them in the midst of
the attentive family circle. To all they impart profitable
and pleasing instruction, and not unfrequently they lead
the irreligious to seek in earnest the salvation of their souls.
There is another consideration which will aid us to esti-
mate the value of these publications, though the benefits
THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 7
which they confer cannot be fully appreciated until dis-
closed by the light of eternity. It is that they take the
place of the silly and worthless books which, half a century
ago, w^ere the sources of youthful instruction and amuse-
ment, and, we may add, the vehicles of superstition and
corruption. Who can estimate the value of a system which
not only excludes from the nursery and the parlor such
miserable trash as " Tom Thumb " and " Goody Two-Shoos,"
but substitutes in their place works, the tendency of which
is to train the youthful mind for virtue on earth and happi-
ness in heaven ?
Such are the blessings which the Sabbath-school system
seeks to confer; and, great as they are, their value is
"greatly increased by the manner in w^hich they are be-
stowed.
They are conferred principally upon the young. This
is decidedly the most important and the most cheering fea-
ture of the Sabbath-school system. In the morning of life
the memory is retentive, the heart is tender, conscience is
faithful in its monitions, and prejudices are few and feeble.
Impressions are then most easily made ; and the principles
then inculcated continue through future life to be the most
permanent and powerful. Habit, too, is daily increasing its
influence for evil or for good — riveting the shackles of sin,
or strengthening the golden chain which binds the heart to
God. Such is the dictate of human wisdom and experience,
which proverbially assert that youth is pecuharly the sea-
son of improvement. Inspiration confirms the same truth
by her declaration, " Train up a child in the way he should
go, and when he is old he will not depart from it ;" and
observation might point us to many a broken-hearted parent,
who, when mourning over the wayward depravity of a
ruined child, has been heard to exclaim, in bitterness of
spirit, ''Ah, if I had but restrained him inyouth, he would
now have been dutiful and obedient."
This same principle, too, is recognized by the men of
§ TFIE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS.
this world, who are too often " wiser in their generation
than the children of light." Cataline, when plotting the
overthrow of the Roman republic, and the Grecian tyrant,
when seeking his country's subjection, sought among young
men those who might be made the instruments of base
and wicked designs ; and, in modern times, it has been
through the education of the young that the Jesuits have
swayed the thrones of Europe, and that the Romish church
has extended her moral despotism over the nations of the
old world. How important then is it, that the friends of
the Redeemer should systematically improve the same pe-
riod to implant the seeds of religious knowledge, to mould
the character for eternity, and endeavor to seal the immor-
tal youth as an heir of heaven. This the Sabbath-school
aims to do, and thus renders its blessings doubly valu-
able.
It is another pleasing characteristic of the Sabbath-
school system, that its benefits are hestoived freely. Hence
it is, that many who would feel ashamed to avail themselves
of the school-funds set apart "for the education of the
poor," and many more who are unable to afford the neces-
sary expense, may, by means of Sabbath-schools, easily
secure for their children the inestimable benefits of Chris-
tian education. The amount which the system before us
thus freely contributes to the instruction of our population,
may be to some extent estimated by the fact, that there are
in our country not far from 100,000 Sabbath-school teach-
ers, and that their compensation, at thirty- three cents per
Sabbath — the rate formerly paid — would every year amount
to 3,300,000 dollars ; a sum greater by far than is annually
distributed by all the school-funds of our land. The place
of assembling usually costs nothing, being previously pro-
vided for some other purpose. The use of the libraries
costs nothing ; the teaching, as we have seen, is gratuitous ;
and the text-books are gratuitously furnished to all who
are unable to purchase them. Truly, the Sabbath- school.
THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 9
like the Gospel, bestows its blessings " without money and
without price."
But another interesting trait of the Sabbath- school sys-
tem is, that its aims are universal. Did this institution ex-
tend its advantages but to a single city, or a single province,
it would deserve our approbation. Did it seek to extend
its favors to an entire nation, the moral grandeur of its de-
signs would excite our warmest admiration. But a city, a
state, a nation, are not the limit of its operations. No, its
"field is the world;" and, by the grace of God, it will
never cease its labors, or grow weary in them, till its bless-
ings are showered on the Avhole human race. All classes,
all conditions, are alike the objects of its kind and compre-
hensive benevolence. Pupils, teachers, parents, and friends,
share its benefits. None are so high as to be above its
favors ; none so low as to be beneath its notice. The sys-
tem, too, is self-sustaining and expansive. It already num-
bers upwards of two millions in its connection; and its
sacred energies shall never tire, till, to the east and the
west, and the north and the south, it can look forth with
joy upon an enlightened and regenerated world. Yes, with
delight do we anticipate the day — even now its golden rays
tinge the summits of the mountains — when these institutions
shall become universal ; when every city, town, and village
shall have a Sabbath-school, from which the voice of prayer
and praise shall ascend up and mingle with the voices of
angels and glorified spirits, before the throne of God. The
system has already extended itself with a rapidity surpass-
ing the highest* expectations of its friends, and it will con-
tinue to extend till it shall circle the wide earth with its
glory — till it beholds the children of a world, through its
instrumentality, rescued from " indignation and wrath, trib-
ulation and anguish," and prepared for an eternal inherit-
ance of "joy unspeakable and full of glory."
It is a further advantage of the Sabbath-school, that its
instructions are imparted affectionately. In every well-reg-
10 THE ADVAxXTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS.
ulated Sabbath- school, the teacher rules by the influence of
kindness, and the law of love. His pupils feel that he is
interested in them, and that he earnestly desires and seeks
their highest happiness in time and eternity. Hence, they
■will become deeply attached to him, will confidently seek
his counsel, and be guided by his suggestions. Under these
circumstances, too, the social feelings will be best cultivated,
and the intellectual and moral improvement be incompara-
bly greater than where equal natural capacity is coaxed or
driven to the performance of the daily task.
It is still another advantage of Sabbath-schools, that
they are held on the Sabbath, a day which, if not thus occu-
pied, would in all probability, by many who are now en-
gaged in these schools, be profaned by worldly business, or
wasted in idleness and folly. How many children, who
otherwise, as formerly, might be seen loitering away the
holy Sabbath, now spend its sacred hours in the Sabbath-
school and in the study of the word of God. How many
teachers and parents are thus led to a proper improvement
of the day of rest. And how delightful the thought, that
through the influence of Sabbath-schools, that day shall
ere long be rescued from long-continued abuse and profana-
tion, and be consecrated to the service of Jehovah; to the
acquisition of those truths Avhich exert the most salutary
influence on the heart and life, and which make the soul
Avise imto salvation.
There is a single other feature of the Sabbath-school
system too important in its bearings on civil society to pass
without notice ; and that is, the influence which it exerts
in the 2^^6vent{on of crime. " Wholesome laws and severe
pimishments," says an old writer, '' are but slow and late
ways of reforming the world ; the timely and most compen-
dious method of doing this, is by early religious education."
The correctness of this principle is abundantly sustained by
all sound maxims of civil government ; for the grand object
of all wise legislation is not so much to punish crime as to
THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. H
prevent its occuiTence. Hence, the means best adapted to
prevent the commission of crimes, most effectually promote
the great ends of ci\'il government. Now, as a matter of
fact, by far the greater portion, probably ninety-nine hun-
dredths of all crimes committed, have their origin in those
three great fountains of wickedness, ignorance, sabbath-
breaking, and INTEMPERANCE. But who are less likely to
grow up in ignorance than Sabbath-school scholars ? And
how many of the five hundred thousand drunkards of our
land have been trained up to intemperance in Sabbath-
schools ? And who are so unlikely to violate the sanctity
of the Sabbath as those who are early and systematically
taught to reverence and hallow this holy day ? Of all the
pupils of the celebrated Robert Raikes, not one was ever
convicted of flagrant crime. Of five hundred convicts in
one of our prisons recently examined, but three had ever
been Sabbath-school scholars. And if all the prisons of our
land were thoroughly examined, how many Sabbath-school
pupils is it supposed would be found among their eleven
thousand wretched and guilty inmates ? The number Avould
be very small ; and we confidently believe, that if the inves-
tigation were made, its results would show that Sabbath-
schools, by their preventive influence, are doing more for the
social and civil order of our country, than all the statute-
books, and dungeons, and gibbets of the land.
Such is the Sabbath-school system : the simplest, most
efficient, most rational, and most valuable system of relig-
ious education ever devised — distinguished no less by the
nature of its blessings, than by the manner in which it con-
fers them — subordinately, in various waj^s, promoting the
mental discipline and intellectual culture of its pupils, but
seeking, as its chief object, to train them up for the enjoy-
ments and the glories of a holier state of existence. Its
blessings, too, are rendered doubly valuable by being be-
stowed, as they are, in youth, a season so favorable to im-
provement ; AFFECTIONATELY, SO as to secure, by the influ-
12 THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS.
ence of kindness, the highest benefit of the pupil ; freely ,
that the poorest may receive them ; universally, that a
world may be their object ; and on the Sabbath, which is
thus redeemed from profanation, and improved in the ser-
vice of Jehovah.
Great, too, are the incidental advantages of the Sabbath-
school system. It exerts a silent, but powerful influence
in uniting the hearts of Christians, in furthering other be-
nevolent operations, in leading multitudes to the study of
the Bible, in preparing the young to hear the Gospel with
intelligence and interest, in preventing vice and the commis-
sion of crime, in diffusing inteUigence and good order, and
in extending a thousand nameless, yet benign and hallowed
influences through the whole mass of society. Who can
fully estimate these influences, immense, extended, and
constantly extending as they are ? Hoav often is an impor-
tant truth mentioned at school, and afterwards repeated at
home by the pupil, to reprove the careless sinner, or cheer
the desponding Christian. How many teachers, surprised
at their own ignorance of the truths which they teach oth-
ers, have been led to serious reflection, and, through the
blessing of the Holy Spirit, to a new life. How many par-
ents and friends, roused by the volume from the Sabbath-
school library, or by the remark of a pious child, have been
awakened to feel the value of the soul, and to seek that rest
which can only be found in believing in Jesus, How many,
in short, have, through the instrumentality of Sabbath-
schools, been preserved from degradation, and guilt, and
Avoe in this world, and from misery eternal in the world to
come. Let Sabbaths rescued from profanation, and church-
es reared in the wilderness, tell us. Tell us, ye ignorant,
instructed ; ye profligate, reformed ; ye who were once
deo;raded, but have been snatched as "brands from the
burning." Tell us, ye teachers, and parents, and friends,
who are now rejoicing "in hope of the glory of God," and
who trace your first serious impressions to the direct or in-
THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 13
direct influences of Sabbath-schools. Tell us, ye millions
of children saved from vice and early depravity, governed
by the law of kindness, insti-ucted in the holy Scriptures,
and taught in childhood to lisp the praises of the Prince of
peace. Tell us, ye angels who bear to heaven the joyful
news of the sinner's repentance, and ye ministering spirits
before the throne, who are appointed " to minister for them
who shall be heirs of salvation."
In this view of the subject, the duty of all to sustain
the Sabbath-school cause, and to extend its benefits as
widely as possible by their influence, their efforts, their con-
tributions, and l\\e\Y 2irayers, is made obvious. To the phi-
lanthropist, it promises the melioration of the condition of
all mankind, and their elevation in intelligence, social enjoy-
ment, and personal happiness. To the patriot, it affords
the surest pledge of the permanence of those political and
civil institutions which we so much prize, and the only secure
foundation of which is indi\'idual and national virtue. To
the Christian, it comes as the agent and pioneer of the
Gospel, and he should Avelcome it with mingled gratitude
and joy, as the harbinger of boundless blessings to the
church of God.
To all, then, but to the Christian especially, does it be-
long to cherish and extend the Sabbath-school system ; for
probably in no other way can he do more to quicken the
flight of that angel who has the everlasting Gospel to preach
to every creature — to promote the cause of Christ by the
conversion of his fellow-men — to cause the solitary place to
breathe forth the notes of joy and gladness, and the wilder-
ness to rejoice and blossom as the rose — to make oui* whole
land Immanuel's land, and the wide world a blooming gar-
den of God. Labor, then, fellow- Christian, in this cause,
to gain the high honor of turning many to righteousness,
that when the assembled universe shall rise in judgment,
you may find, among the millions of the redeemed, midti-
tudes saved through the instrumentality of Sabbath-schools
VOL. VIII. 18
14 THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS.
which you aided to establish, who shall shine for ever as
the brightness of the firmament, and with whom you may
for ever praise and adore the riches of redeeming grace.
Note — A premium, offered by a friend of Sabbath-schools, was
awarded to the author of this Tract.
INFLUENCE OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS.
Sabhath-sckools 2>^'€vent the desecration of the Sabbath.
Every intelligent man must acknowledge the importance of
observing this day to keep it holy. Abolish the Sabbath,
the Bible and all other moral influences at once fade away :
as the Sabbath is observed or neglected, so will the prin-
ciples and doctrines of religion be honored or despised. Of
this truth, we have most lamentable demonstrations iji many
of our cities and towns, especially our seaports. This day
being neglected, God's name is wantonly profaned, and all
his labors set at naught. Just in proportion as this day
is disregarded, will the knowledge and worship of Jehovah
escape from the mind, the moral sense of the community be
impaired, its powers decay, its foundations fail, and its pil-
lars totter and fall. In the light of these truths, is it not
an important consideration, that Sabbath-schools prevent
thousands of children and youth from Sabbath desecration ?
They gather those who would otherwise be loitering about
the streets, wandering in the fields, and revelling in dissi-
pation, and impress their young minds with reverence for
God's sacred day. This was one of the primary objects in
the mind of Robert Raikes, their founder. He saw the
overwhelming evils of this crying sin ; the Sabbath-breaker
is prepared for almost any step in crime. By reference to
the history of criminals, we find that nine-tenths regard
Sabbath-breaking as a fatal step in their mad career. Rev-
erence for the Sabbath being destroyed, moral principle is
THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 15
almost extinct. Who then can compute the good effected
by Sabbath-schools, in preventing the violation of the fourth
commandment.
Sabbath- schools bring children under the convicting and
converting influences of the Gospel. Here the Bible is care-
fully read, and accurately studied : its precepts and invita-
tions, its warnings and threatenings, are all intelligently,
famiharly, and affectionately explained and applied. Here
are imparted all the fundamental principles of our holy re-
ligion ; children are solemnly impressed with the fact of the
existence of a God — theu' relations to him as their Creator,
Preserver, and bountiful Benefactor, and their obligations
growing out of these relations ; they are taught that they
are sinners lost and ruined — that God has had compassion
on our race, and given his dear Son to die for our redemp-
tion— that Jesus Christ was God manifest in the flesh — that
he lived here on earth as we, although without sin — wrought
many most astonishing and benevolent miracles, such as
healing the sick, and even raising the dead — that he was per-
secuted, insulted, and scourged — was basely traduced, and
finally suffered and died upon the cross, as a sacrifice for sin.
They are told the wonderful phenomena attending the cru-
cifixion, all establishing the reality and truth of our glorious
Christianity. They are taught the terms of salvation, re-
pentance towards God and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.
The exercises are accompanied with the enhvening, animat-
ing, and subduing power of prayer and praise. Such is the
system of Sunday-school instruction. No wonder that a
great majority of those converted at the present day, are
or have been connected with Sunday-schools. That chil-
dren are capable of understanding the Gospel at a very
early age cannot be disputed : numerous facts are in point.
The instructions and impressions which resulted in John
Newton's conversion were received from his mother, who
died before he was four years of age. A celebrated female
16 THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS.
writer says she distinctly recollects consultations held in her
own mind in view of the claims of the Gospel, while only
three years of age. Thus we see the practicability and
advantages of early religious education. To this source
may be traced the distinguished piety and usefulness of
Samuel, Timothy, St. Augustine, Hooker, Wesley, D wight,
Gardiner, Doddridge, and a host of other illustrious names.
Sahhatli- schools exert a 'powerful moral influence upon
parents. Parents become interested in the cause almost
necessarily. Their children repeat in their presence what
they have learned at school, and hear it they must. Soon
their feelings are awakened — curiosity is excited, and per-
chance they accompany their little ones to the school. Here
their hearts are enlisted, and from the school they proceed
to the sanctuary. Thus are they brought to sit under the
charming sound of Gospel truth, and frequently to feel its
saving power. In assisting children to learn their lessons,
and in reading the Bible and other books they use, many
have been led to reflection and repentance. Teachers, too,
while visiting their scholars, have full access to the parents,
and by conversing with them upon the solemn interests of
their souls, are often the means of their salvation. Thus,
through the indirect agency of Sunday-schools, thousands
of fathers and mothers have been benefited ; many have
been raised from ignorance to intelligence, many from vice
to virtue, many from the dominion of Satan to the service
of God.
^o. 273,
THE LOST SOUL.
Soon as the physician announced that her complaint
was beyond the reach of medicine, and that she could not
live, all hope forsook her. Her anticipations of worldly
enjoyment fled. Her thoughts descended into the depths
of eternity. " / did not think I should die so soon — / have
lost my soul,'' was the language which escaped, in a moan-
ing tone, with every shortening breath, until, in a few hours,
the scene closed for ever. In vain did her anxious friends
and her minister proclaim a free pardon through the blood
and righteousness of the Saviour, if she would surrender
her heart to him ; her mind could not be diverted for a
moment from the one all-absorbing theme : " / did not
think I should die so soon — / have lost my soul /"
Poor Ann , the closing scene of whose life is here
truly, though imperfectly described, had pious friends.
From Sabbath to Sabbath the Gospel had been constantly
and faithfully preached to her ; she had lived through several
revivals of religion ; had once and again been moved in view
of her danger as a sinner, exposed to the wrath of God, and
as often had relapsed into stupidity.
Thus sixteen years passed away under the sunshine of
religious privileges, accompanied, at times, with the strivings
of God's Holy Spirit. Now the season of reckoning was
come. She was arrested by a disease which, in a short
time, was pronounced incurable.
" O death, how dreadful must thy summons be
To him that is at ease !"
Is there not distressing reason to fear that Ann's appre-
hensions were too well grounded ? In her death, then,
behold a solemn attestation to the following truths.
The soul may be lost. Multitudes, who in the time of
health and prosperity could trifle, perliaps, with the threat-
enings of the Bible, have left, in the honest hour of death,
a similar testimony. Like Ann, they have shuddered in
prospect of their doom. The representations of the word
VOL. VIII. 18*
2 THE LOST SOUL.
of God have pressed upon the conscience with the weight
of mountains — have pierced the heart with the anguish of
barbed arrows. In such circumstances, human strength
and courage wither away under the question, " What is a
man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose
his own soul ?" Now, the soul is seen in its true, intrinsic
value —
" the thing of greatest price
The whole creation round."
0 how much is meant by the short expression, uttered b}' a
dying sinner, "/ have lost my soul !''
In the history of Ann we may perceive, that great joriv-
ileges, if misimiwoved, do not 'prevent the loss of the soul.
What more could have been done for her than was done ?
Reader, you may have an abundance of the good things of
this world ; nay, you may have pious parents and praying-
friends ; may be a regular attendant on the preached word ;
and at times, imder the strivings of God's Spirit, may feel
that an interest in Christ is the one thing needful ; and, after
all, may come unprepared to your death-bed. " A little more
sleep, a little more slumber" — so shall eternal "poverty"
overtake thee "as an armed man." Amid the wailings in
hell is heard the lamentation, " How have I hated instruc-
tion and despised reproof!" "If I had not come and
spoken unto them," says Christ, "they had not had sin;
but now they have no cloak for their sin." To the rich
man in the parable it was said, " Remember that thou in
thy lifetime receivedst thy good things ;" " but" noiu " thou
art tormented."
Conscious security ivill not ^?rfye?i^ the loss of the soul.
Ann never felt more safe than the moment before she was
seized by her mortal malady. In her estimation the evil
hour was far away; while, in fact, the Judge was "stand-
ing at the door." " When they shall say, Peace and safety,
then sudden destruction cometh." " Soul, thou hast much
goods laid up for many years," said one. " Thou fool,"
said God, "this night thy soul shall be required of thee."
0 plead not, as the evidence of safety, that stupidity which,
unless removed, insures your ruin. Sinners often dance,
and jest, and laugh, on the brink of everlasting woe. To-
niglit, they eat and drink, and are merry — to-morrow, their
THE LOST SOUL 3
souls are lost for ever. Reader, thou knowest not what a
day may bring forth.
From Ann we also learn, that an amiable temper and
external morality will not prevent the loss of the soul. She
had these, but what did they avail her ? While such as
persevere in vicious courses will surely perish, it is equally
certain that, as a basis of justification in the sight of God, a
blameless moral life is altogether inadequate. It is a bed
too short to stretch ourselves upon, a garment too narrow
to cover us. Men often imagine, in their blindness, that
they are too good to become eternal associates for the rep-
robates in hell ; but let the commandment come, and their
thoughts, feehngs, and pursuits be brought to the test of
God's law, and they soon discover themselves to be " the
chief of sinners." A self- justifying spirit is the greatest
obstacle in the way to salvation. Christ is the Saviour of
such only as feel themselves to he undone. " He came not
to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance." Often do
men go on, flattering themselves in their own eyes, until
eternity discloses their real character, and their souls are
lost. " Except a man be horn again, he cannot see the kino--
dom of God."
To lose the soul is an evil inex2)ressihle and inconceivahle.
0 wretched state ! — to bid an eternal farewell to the Bible,
to the house of God, to the sacramental table, to the invita-
tions of mercy, to mercy itself ; to heaven, to angels, to
saints, to God, and to Christ ; to love, to peace, to hope, to
all enjoyment, corporeal, mental, and spiritual ; to become
a companion of devils and damned spirits, and a prey to
endless remorse. Unhappy Ann ! no wonder the cold drops
stood on her brow as she exclaimed, " I have lost my soul P'
Reader, are you prepared to encounter this mighty, eternal
struggle of unutterable, agonized feeling ? God grant that
you may never know by experience the import of the ex-
pression— a lost soul. 0 eternity! "One night," says
Saurin, " passed in a burning fever, or in strugg-ling in the
waves of the sea, between life and death, appears of im-
mense length ; it seems to the sufferer as if the sun had
forgot its course, and as if the laws of nature itself were
subverted. What, then, will be the state of those miserable
victims of divine displeasure who, after they shall have
passed through millions of millions of ages, will be obliged
4 THE LOST SOUL.
to make this overwhelming reflection : ' All this is only an
atom of our misery !' What will their despair be when
they shall be forced to say to themselves, ' Again we must
revolve through these enormous periods ; again we must
suffer a privation of celestial happiness — devouring flames
again — cruel remorse again — crimes and blasphemies over
and over again — for ever ! for ever !' "
Said the rich man in hell, "I have five brethren — send
Lazarus to testify unto them, lest they also come to this
place of torment." Does not Ann herself, in the incident
of her death, appeal to us from the eternal luorld ? I seem
to hear her say,
" Reader, be it your first concern to secure the salvation
of your soul. The least delay may be followed by fatal,
irretrievable consequences. Take warning from me. God
has been at immense expense to prevent your ruin. Beth-
lehem, Gethsemane, and Calvary, cry out upon you, ' Why
will you die V ' The Spirit and the bride say. Come : let
him that heareth, say, Come.'' You may be saved. After
so many abused privileges and misspent years, still you may
be saved. Harden not your heart. Throw yourself upon
the mercy of God in Christ.
' While God invites, how blest the day,
How sweet the Gospel's charming sound !
Come, sinner, haste, O haste away,
While yet a pard'ning God is found.'
Soon your day of grace may terminate, suddenly, unex-
pectedlv, for ever. Take warniny from me! To-morrow's
sun, as it gilds the eastern heavens, may bring no light to
you ; for your probationary sun may have set in eternity.
Then, dying in impenitence, the lamentation will be yours,
* The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and I am not
saved.' I have lost my soul. Take warning from me!
Oh, I have lost — I have lost my soul !"
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
.\o. 1374,
THE
SCOTSMAN'S FIRESIDE
AX AUTHENTIC XAKKATIVE
0(1 "■ "^
" From scenes like these old Scotia's grandeur springs,
That makes her lov'd at home, rever'd abroad/'
Ix the year 1805, durinjr the prevalence of the yellow-
fever in New York, the late Mr. B resided a few miles
from that city.
On his return one evening to the domestic circle, which
then consisted of his wife and four children, and his venera-
ble mother-in-law, the late Mrs. , he said to Mrs. B ,
" My dear, I fear I have done what will not please you."
Mrs. B . ■■' What is that ?"
Mr. B . " I have met with an old school-fellow and
countryman, and invited him to stay with us while the fever
prevails."
Mrs. B . " And why should I be displeased with
that?"
2 THE SCOTSMAN'S FIRESIDE.
Mr. B . " Because I know that he and you will
not agree in j^oUtics.'"
Mrs. B . ''0, if that be all, we will avoid the
subject."
Mr. B . " But there is another subject on which
you Avill be still more at variance. Mr. M has not
only imbibed French principles in politics, but also on the
subject of religion. He is an infidel."
Mrs. B . ''That, indeed, is bad. How shall we
please him, and yet observe the religious duties incumbent
on us as a Christian family ?"
Mr. B . " My dear, we must not omit one of them,
and you must help me. When the hour for family worship
arrives, you will call the family together, and we will do our
duty as usual. Mr. M is a gentleman, and however
he may be opposed to religion, his politeness Avill, at least,
prevent him from ridiculing it."
In the course of the evening Mr. M arrived, and a
few hours were spent in pleasant conversation, and recol-
lections of the " land of the mountain and the flood" — the
scenes of early life.
At the hour of nine Mrs. B rung the bell three
times, the usual signal for calling the family together ; and
turning to the guest, said, " Mr. M , we keep up the
good old Scotch custom of family worship ; I hope you
have no objection to unite with us."
" Certainly not, madam," was his reply ; " I hope I
may not, in the least, interfere with your domestic arrange-
ments."
The family assembled.
With serious face,
They round the ingle* form a circle wide :
The sire turns o'er, with patriarchal grace,
The big hall Bible, once his father's pride ;
Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide.
He walesf a portion with judicious care.
And, " Let us worship God," he says, with solemn air.
They chant their artless notes with simple guise ;
They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim :
Perhaps Dundee's wild warbling measures rise.
Or plaintive Martyrs'', worthy of the name.
* Fireside. f Selects.
THE SCOTSMAN'S FIRESIDE. 3
The priest-like father reads the sacred page :
Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme ;
How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed ;
How he, who bare in heaven the second name,
Had not, on earth, whereon to lay his head.
Then kneeling down, to heaven's eternal King
The saint, the father, and the husband prays :
Hope springs exulting on triumphant wing,
That thus they all shall meet in future days ;
There, ever bask in uncreated rays.
No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear ;
Together hymning their Creator's praise
In such society, yet still more dear,
While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere.
Cotter's Saturday Niglit.
Mr. M knelt with the family, and on rising, ob-
served to Mrs. B that he had not bent his knee in the
same manner for ten years. This led to serious conversa-
tion between him and Mrs. Graham, which was continued to
a late hour ; he, of course, arguing against revealed relio-ion.
Next day, and every day, the subject was renewed, with
much pleasantry and politeness on his part, and great for-
bearance on the part of those whose minds the Spirit of
God had enlightened. Instead of saying, " Stand by thy-
self, I am holier than thou," they often said to each other,
"Who maketh us to differ?" and united in private prayer
that God would look in compassion on their guest, and
bless their conversation to awaken him to a sense of his sin
and danger.
One day, while conversing with Mrs. Graham, he re-
marked, "I have travelled through many countries, and
have seen many families, but never, till now, have I wit-
nessed such perfect happiness."
"Perhaps, sir," said the aged saint, "you never were
with those who had an assured liope of an interest in Christ,
and that, through his atonement, ' all things shall Avork to-
gether for their good,' both in time and eternity."
" No, indeed I have not, since I left the parental roof."
One of the children, a lovely girl about tw^o years old,
was his particular favorite, and he often walked the gar-
den with her in his arms, entertaining her with Scottish
melody.
4 THE SCOTSMAN'S FIRESIDE
When the fever had subsided, Mr. M returned to
W , where he resided, to arrange his business previous
to going to the West Indies to visit his brothers, with a view
to procure aid towards embarking in the mercantile Hne.
In the mean time it pleased God to remove by death the
lovely olive-plant who had so often shared in his attentions.
On his return to New York, Mr. B could scarcely
persuade him to visit the family, as he feared that Mrs.
B 's sorrows, on seeing him, would be renewed. He,
however, was prevailed on, and again and again religion
became the subject of conversation.
As Mr. M had recently been deprived of an oiSice
under government, his pecuniary means were slender, which
caused Mr. and Mrs. B to add to his sea-stores such
comforts as in those days were not furnished to ship pas-
sengers ; and each determined to add provision for the soul
as well as the body. Mrs. B put up a small pocket-
Bible, with references in the blank leaf to appropriate texts ;
Mrs. Graham added "The Rise and Progress of Religion
in the Soul ;" and Mr. B , " The Refuge," with a long
letter, superscribed, " Not to he opened till out at sea^
Many months elapsed before the family heard from Mr.
M , but he was often remembered at the throne of
grace, and his three friends derived some consolation from
the recollection that, during his last visit, he had appeared
more serious, and had courted religious conversation. At
length Mr. B received a letter from Mr. M , dated
at G , at the close of which he remarked that he never
expected to be as happy as they, for his past life had been
spent in such a way as to deprive him of all hopes of ever
enjoying the favor of God.
But we will let Mr. M tell his own story. Two
years after that period, he was again a visitor in that parlor
where, for the first time in ten years, he bowed the knee.
He then related to a dear departed Christian friend and
Mrs. B , the way in which the Lord had led him, until
he found " peace in believing." His account was substan-
tially as follows :
"There," said he, pointing with his finger, "there, on
that spot, I bowed the knee in complaisance to man, while
my heart was filled with enmity against God ; and 0, the
long-suffering and compassion of that God, who of such a
THE SCOTSMAN'S FIRESIDE. 5
rebel has made a child of grace. The moment I found my-
self on my knees, early associations crowded on my mind ;
I did not hear a word of Mr. B 's prayer, for I was
immediately, in idea, transported back to similar scenes un-
der my father's roof.
" I arose from my knees as if waking from a dream ;
and from that hour I have found myself often mentally ask-
ing the question, * If the Bible, after all, should be true,
what must become of me V
" When it pleased God to remove by death your lovely
R , I was filled with anger. ' Is this the God so often
extolled for his mercy and justice?' I said with myself;
* does he thus reward those who faithfully serve him V I
felt that I could have torn him from his throne ; and when
I visited the city a few weeks after, I feared to call on you,
lest the presence of one who so fondly loved your darling,
should renew your grief; but Mr, B insisted, saying,
' Go, my friend, and see the consolation religion affords in
time of trouble.'
'' Every time I visited you, and conversed with Mrs.
Graham, I felt that there must be some source from which
Christians derive happiness, of Avhich I was ignorant. I
did not avoid religious conversation, and generally left your
family with a painful feeling that all my golden expecta-
tions of happiness connected with ' liberty and equaUty,'
and man's perfectability, must soon pass away : and that I
must yield the palm of discovery to those Avhom I had
often made the jest of revelry, and let that volume which
I had considered only as ' old wives' fables,' take the place of
infidel writers. ' Miserable comforters' I had found them all.
Still, however, I felt irresolute as to my future conduct.
" When at sea, I read Mr. B 's letter, and looked
into the books that accompanied it. Every word I read
condemned me ; and I saw that I was a wretched, guilty
sinner, at the mercy of an offended God. But to become
relio-ious would mar my worldly prospects. I feared 'the
world's dread laugh,' when again I should meet my former
associates. I had no time to retrace my steps, and I there-
fore continued in the same course. I took the letter and
books, iind pushing them out of sight at the bottom of my
trunk,' I determined to banish all thoughts of religion from
my mind.
VOL. VITI. 19
6 THE SCOTSMAN'S FIRESIDE.
" I succeeded in mj object in the West Indies, and re-
turned to W , from which place I wrote to Mr. B ,
to inform him of my phins. Before closing my letter, I
thought ' 1 must add something on the subject of religion,
to please tliose good people, who are certamly the kindest
enthusiasts^- I ever knew.'
" What I said called forth another letter from Mr.
B . He did not suspect my hypocrisy, but viewed me
as one convinced of sin, and anxious to know what I should
' do to be saved.' He advised me to procure Saurin's Ser-
mons, and read that ' On the Compassion of God.' But it
was far from my intention to comply with his request ; and
only that part of his letter that related to worldly prospects
was attended to. I continued to associate with the gay, care-
fully concealing the fearful doubts and forebodings w^hich
often haunted my mind while partaking in their revels.
" Shortly after, I made one of a party to attend a grand
ball at A . We dined at a tavern, and the glass circu-
lated till the festive scene of the evening commenced. The
excitino- influence of dancino-, added to that of wine, caused
me to fly rather than dance, and by some means to me un-
accountable, I fell and broke my arm. A young physician,
one of the party, set it ; and while the gay revellers re-
turned to their homes, I was carried to the upper story of
the building, where I passed a sleepless night, under the
excitement of fever, aggravated by an alarmed and awaken-
ed conscience.
" Again early associations recurred to my mind, espe-
cially the slighted admonitions of a pious mother, blended
with the remembrance of her soothing attentions in child-
hood, when laid on a sick bed. And ' 0, that I knew where
I could find that God whose consolations she and my New
York friends enjoy in time of trial !' was my earnest cry.
" Uj arm not being properly set, had again to be broken
and reset, which made my confinement much longer than it
would otherwise have been. I sent for Saurin'sSermons,
and found consolation in reading the sermon recommend-
ed by Mr. B . I carefully read Doddridge's Rise and
Progress, every word of which seemed to accord with the
* Perhaps the epithet enthiisiasf grated on his mind, like coivard
on that of the duellist, and hushed the " still small voice of con-
science."
THE SLOTriMAN'ri FIRE.SIDE. 7
state of my mind. I opened my long-neglected Bible. I
saw that I was ruined by sin ; justly condemned ; and that
there was no salvation except ' through the redemption that
is in Christ Jesus/ in whom God could be 'just, and the
justifier of him that believeth.' Into the arms of that Re-
deemer I was enabled to throw myself. I left my room,
humbly trusting I had an advocate with my offended Father,
in Christ Jesus ; and cordially relying on his righteousness,
I was freed from the awful dread of a judgment to come.
'' I returned to W , determined to break off from
the world and my former associates ; and now, * clothed
and in my right mind,' never to quit the feet of Jesus.
"A few weeks after, hearing that the communion was
to be dispensed at A , I resolved that the scene of my
former folly should first witness my deep repentance, and
my humble trust in that Saviour I had so long rejected.
There I publicly devoted myself to him, and partook of the
symbols of the broken body and shed blood of him ' who
loved me, and gave himself for me.'
" And now, my friends, will you not help me to bless
and magnify the name of God, who thus took me from ' the
horrible pit' of infidelity, and * the miry clay' of worldli-
ness and sin, and set my feet upon the ' Rock of ages ?'"
]\Xr, M , during the Avhole of his subsequent life,
proved his faith by his works. Prayer-meetings, Sabbath-
schools, plans for ameliorating the condition of the poor,
and all the benevolent objects of the day, shared his atten-
tion. He became an officer in the church, and by his phi-
lanthropy obtained the name of the Howard of G n.
His constitution, never very robust, gave way about the
age of forty, when he departed in peace.
Two of his three friends have since joined him — he who,
like Abraham, " commanded his children and his household
after him ;" and the mother in Israel, who saw her chil-
dren's children following her steps, and ''who, being dead,
yet speaketh."
Reader, hast thou, like the subject of this narrative,
imbibed infidel i^rinciples ; does the Bible — if, indeed, thou
hast one — lie unopened ; do thy knees never bend to the
God who made thee ? Be instructed by the history of Mr.
M , and weary not thyself seeking happiness where
3 THE SCOTSMAN'S FIRESIDE.
thou seest he never found it. Take down thy long-neg-
lected Bible. Turn to Psalm 14:1, and read the charac-
ter of him who "hath said in his heart, There is no GodT
Then turn to those precious words, Isaiah 55 : 6, 7, " Seek
ye the Lord while he may be found ; call ye upon him-
while he is near. Let the wicked forsake his way, and the
unrighteous man his thoughts ; and let him return unto the
Lord, and he will have mercy upon him ; and to our God,
for he w411 abundantly pardon."
Is the reader ^^oo?- .^ And dost thou think thou hast no
time to read thy Bible or to attend to the interests of thy soul ?
Turn to Psalm 127 : 1, 2, and thou wilt see that without the
blessing of God, "it is in vain for thee to rise up early, to sit
up late, and to eat the bread of sorrows." Then turn to Mat-
thew 6 : 33, and immediately comply with thy Saviour's
command : " Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his right-
eousness, and all these things shall be added unto you."
Are these pages read by a fireside like that above de-
scribed ; where the morning and evening worship are like a
foundation and a covering to the dwelling ? Let the value
of early religious impressions, illustrated in this narrative,
incite parents and guardians, not only to be faithful to their
own households, but by every practicable method to pro-
mote the religious improvement of all the rising generation —
contributing to Sabbath and infant-schools, and all charities
for the ignorant and destitute, time, talents, and substance,
according as the Lord hath given them.
Let this narrative also encourage the friends of the Re-
deemer to be faithful to those w^ho may seem farthest from
the kingdom of God. Let them remember in their prayers
and their kind Christian endeavors, the rich, the infidel, the
gay, and the iwoud. On all suitable occasions, and in a
proper manner, let the truths of the Gospel be pressed even
on their hearts ; and let them be exemplified and commend-
ed, by a uniformly meek, consistent, and Godly example.
Reader, whoever you are, while you reject the Gospel,
you " spend money for that w^hich is not bread, and your
labor for that which satisfieth not." Hear, then, and ac-
cept the invitation, Isaiali 55 : 1, "Ho, every one that
thirsteth, come ye to the waters ; and he that hath no
money, come ye ; yea, come, buy wine and milk, without
money and without price."
No. 375.
THE AMIABLE LOUISA.
FROM "THE YOUXG CHRISTIAX.
The circumstances related in the following narrative are of
recent occurrence, and the reader may rely upon the strict truth
and faithfulness of the description.
Shortly after my settlement in the ministry, I observed
in the congregation a young lady whose blooming counte-
nance and cheerful air showed perfect health and high ela-
tion of spirits. Her appearance satisfied me at once that
she was amiable and thoughtless. There was no one of my
charge whose prospers for long life were more promising
than her owr^, and perhaps no one who looked forward to
the future with more pleasing hopes of enjoyment. To her
eye the world seemed bright. She often said she wished
to enjoy more of it before she became a Christian.
Louisa — for by that name I shall call her — manifest-ed
no particular hostility to religion, but wished to Hve a gay
and merry life till just before her death, and then to become
pious and die happy. She was constant in her attendance
at church, and while others seemed moved by the exhibi-
tion of the Saviour's love, she seemed entirely miaffected.
Upon whatever subject I preached, her countenance retained
the same marks of indifference and unconcern. The same
easy smile played upon her features, whether sin or death,
or heaven or hell, was the theme of discourse. One even-
ing I invited a few of the young ladies of my society to
meet at my house. She came with her companions. I had
sougiii; the interview with them, that I might more directly
urge upon them the importance of religion. All in the
room were affected — and she, though evidently moved, en-
deavored to conceal her feelings.
The interest in this great subject manifested by those
present was such, that I informed them that I would meet,
in a week from that time, any who wished for personal con-
versation. The appointed evening arrived, and I was de-
VOL. Vill 19*
2 THE AMIABLE LOUISA.
lighted in seeing, -svith two or three others, Louisa enter my
house.
I conversed with each one individually. They gener-
ally, with much frankness, expressed their state of feeling.
Most of them expressed much solicitude respecting their
eternal interests. Louisa appeared different from all the
rest. She was anxious and unable to conceal her anxiety,
and yet ashamed to have it known. She had come to con-
verse with me upon the subject of religion, and yet Avas
making an evident effort to appear indifferent. I had long
felt interested in Louisa, and was glad of this opportunity
to converse with her.
" Louisa," said I, "I am happy to see you here this
evening, and particularly so, as you have become interested
in the subject of religion."
She made no reply.
" Have you been long thinking upon this subject,
Louisa?"
'' I always thought the subject important, sir, but have
not attended to it as I suppose 1 ouoht."
** Do you now feel the subject to be more important
than you have previously ?"
** I don't know, sir ; I think I want to be a Christian."
" Do you feel that you are a sinner, Louisa?"
" I knoiv that I am a sinner, for the Bible says so, but
I suppose that I do not feel it enough."
*' Can you expect that God w^ill receive you into his
favor while you are in such a state of mind ? He has made
you, and he is now taking care of you, giving you every
blessing and every enjoyment you have, and yet you have
lived many years without any gratitude to him, and contin-
ually breaking his commandments, and now do not feel that
you are a sinner. What would you think of a child whose
kind and affectionate parents had done every thing in their
power to make her happy, and who should yet not feel that
she had done any thing wrong, though she had been every
day disobeying her parents, and had never expressed any
gratitude for their kindness. You, Louisa, would abhor
such a child. And yet this is the way you have been treat-
ing your heavenly Father, and he has heard you say this
evening that you do not feel that you have done wrong, and
he sees your heart, and knows how unfeeling it is. Now,
THE AMIABLE LOUISA. 3
Louisa, you must be lost, unless you repent of your sins,
and ask humbly, and earnestly, for forgiveness. And why
will you not ? You know that Christ has died to atone for
sin, and that God will forgive you for his Son's sake if you
trust in him."
To this Louisa made no reply. She did not seem dis-
pleased, neither did her feelings appear subdued.
After addressing a few general remarks to my young-
friends, we kneeled in prayer, and the interview closed.
Another meeting was appointed on the same evening of the
succeeding week. Louisa again made her appearance with
the same young ladies and a few others. She appeared
much more deeply impressed. Her coldness and reserve
had given place to a frank expression of interest and exhibi-
tion of feeling.
" Well, Louisa," said I, as in turn I commenced con-
versing with her, " I was almost afraid I should not see you
here this evening."
'* I feel, sir," said she, *' that it is time for me to attend
to my immortal soul. I have neglected it too long."
" Do you /(?<?? that you are a sinner, Louisa?"
" Yes, sir, I do."
" Do you think, Louisa, you have any claim upon God
to forgive you ?"
" No, sir. It would be just in God to leave me to per-
ish. I think I want to repent, but I cannot. I want to love
God, but do not know how I can."
" Do you remember, Louisa, that Christ has said, ' Who-
soever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he
cannot be my disciple ?' "
" Yes, sir."
" Well, Louisa, now count the cost ; are you ready to
give up all for Christ? Are you ready to turn from your
gay companions, and lay aside your frivolous pleasures, and
acknowledge the Saviour publicly, and be derided, as per-
haps you will be, by your former friends, and live a life of
prayer and of effort to do good ?"
She hesitated for a moment, and then replied, " I am
afraid not."
" Well, Louisa, the terms of acceptance with God are
plain, and there is no altering them. You cannot serve
God and mammon. If you would be a Christian, you must
4 THE AMIABLE LOUISA
renounce all sin, and with a broken heart surrender your-
self entirely to the Saviour."
This evening's interview closed as before, and a similar
appointment Avas made for the next week. Some of the
young ladies present, I had reason to believe, had accepted
the terms of salvation. The next Aveek about the same num-
ber Avere present, but Louisa Avas not Avith them ; a slight
cold had detained her. But the Aveek after she again ap-
peared. To my great disappointment I found her interest
diminishing. Though not exhibiting that cold reserve Avhich
she at first manifested, she seemed far less anxious than at
our last intervieAv — the Spirit Avas grieved aAvay. This Avas
the last time she called to see me ; but alas, I was soon
called to see her, under circumstances AA^hich, at that time,
Avere but little anticipated. These social meetings continued
for some time, and many of Louisa's associates, I have cause
to hope, became the disciples of Jesus.
Tavo or three months passed aAvay, and my various du-
ties so far engrossed my mind that my particular interest in
Louisa's spiritual welfare had giA^en place to other solici-
tudes ; when one day as I Avas riding out, making parochial
visits, one of my parishioners informed me that she Avas
quite uuAvell, and desired to see me. In a fcAv moments I
Avas in her sick chamber. She had taken a A'iolent cold, and
it had settled into a feA^er. She AA^as lying in her bed, her
cheek gloAving Avith the feverish hue, and her lips parched
Avith thirst. She seemed agitated Avhen I entered the room,
and the moment I stood by her bedside and inquired hoAv
she did, she covered her face Avith both hands and burst
into a flood of tears.
Her sister, Avho Avas by her bedside, immediately turned
to me and said, " Sir, she is in great distress of mind. Men-
tal agony has kept her aAvake nearly all night. She has
Avanted verA^ much to see you, that you might couA^erse Avith
her."
I AA'as fearful that the agitation of her feelings might
seriously injure her health, and did all I consistently could
to soothe and quiet her.
"But, sir," said Louisa, "I am sick, and may die; I
knoAV that I am not a Christian, and Oh, if I die in this state
of mind, Avhat Avill become of me ? What Avill become of
me?" and she again burst into tears.
THE AMIABLE LOUISA, 5
What could I say? Every word she said was true.
Her eyes were opened to her danger. There was cause for
alarm. Sickness was upon her. Delirium might soon en-
sue ; death might be very near ; and her soul was unpre-
pared to appear before God. She saw it all ; she felt it all.
Fever was burning in her veins. But she forgot her pain
in view of the terrors of approaching judgment.
I told her that the Lord was merciful and ready to par-
don ; that he had given his Son to die for sinners ; and was
more ready to forgive than we to ask forgiveness.
" But, sir," said she, *' I have known my duty long, and
have not done it. I have been ashamed of my Saviour, and
grieved away the Spirit; and now I am upon a sick bed,
and perhaps must die. Oh, if I were but a Christian I
should be willing to die."
I told her of the Saviour's love. I pointed to many of
God's precious promises to the penitent. I endeavored to
induce her to resign her soul calmly to the Saviour. But
all was unavailing. Trembling and agitated, she was look-
ing forward to the dark future. ■ The Spirit of the Lord had
opened her eyes, and through her own reflections had led
her into this state of alarm. I knelt by her bedside and
fervently prayed that the Holy Spirit would guide her to
the truth, and that the Saviour would speak peace to her
troubled soul. 0 could they who are postponing repent-
ance to a sick-bed have Avitnessed the suffering of this once
merry girl, they would shudder at the thought of trusting
to a dying hour. How poor a time to prepare to meet God,
when the mind is enfeebled, when the body is restless or
racked with pain, and when mental agitation frustrates the
skill of the physician. Yet so it is. One half the world are
postponing repentance to a dying bed. And when sickness
comes, the very circumstance of being unprepared hurries
the miserable victim to the grave.
The next day I called again to see Louisa. Her fever
was still raging, and its fires were fanned by mental suffer-
ing. Poor girl ! thought I, as the first glance of her coun-
tenance showed the strong lineaments of despair. I needed
not to ask how she felt. Her countenance told her feelings.
And I knew that while her mind was in this state, restora-
tion to health was out of the question.
" And can vou not, Louisa," said I, " trust vour soul
6 THE AMIABLE LOUISA.
with the Saviour who died for 3^ou ? He has said, ' Come
unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will
give you rest.' "
" Oh, sir, I know the Saviour is merciful, but somehow
or other I cannot go to him, I know not Avhy — Oh, I am
miserable indeed."
" Do 3"ou think, Louisa, that you are penitent for sin?
If you are, you are forgiven ; for God who gave his Son to
die for us, is more ready to pardon than we to ask for-
giveness. He is more ready to give good gifts to the pen-
itent than any earthly parent to give bread to his hungry
child."
I then opened the Bible at the 15th chapter of Luke,
and read the parable of the prodigal son. I particularly
directed her attention to the 20th verse : " When he was
3'et a great way off his father saw him, and had compassion,
and ran, and fell upon his neck, and kissed him."
" Oh, sir," said she, '' none of these promises are for me.
I find no peace to my troubled spirit. I have long been
sinnino- ao-ainst God, and now he is summonino; me to ren-
der up my account; and Oh, what an account have I to
render ! The doctor gives me medicine, but I feel that it
does no good, for I can think of nothing but my poor soul.
Even if I w^ere perfectly well, I could hardly endure the
view Avhich God has given me of my sins. If they were
forgiven how happy should I be ! but now — Oh !" — her
voice was stopped by a fit of shuddering, w^hich agitated
those around her with the fear that she mio-ht be dvinor.
Soon, however, her nerves Avere more quiet, and I kneeled
to commend her spirit to the Lord.
As I rode home, her despairing countenance was un-
ceasingly before me. Her lamentations, her mournful
groans were continually crying in my ears. As I kneeled
with my family at evening, I bore Louisa upon my heart to
the throne of grace. All night I was restlessly upon my
pillow dreaming of unavailing efforts at this sick-bed.
Another morning came. As I knocked at the door of
her dwelling I felt a most painful solicitude as to the an-
swer I might receive.
" How is Louisa this morning ?" said I to the person
who opened the door.
" She is fast failing, sir, and the doctor thinks she can-
THE A.MIABLE LOUISA. 7
not recover. We have just sent for her friends to come and
see her before she dies."
'' Is her mind more composed than it has been ?"
" 0 no, sir. She has had a dreadful night. She says
that she is lost, and that there is no hope for her."
I went into her chamber. Despair was pictured more
deeply than ever upon her flushed and fevered countenance.
I was surprised at the strength she still manifested as she
tossed from side to side. Death was evidently drawing
near. She knew it. She had lived without God, and felt
that she was unprepared to stand before him. A few of
her young friends were standing by her bedside. She
warned them in the most affecting terms to prepare for
death while in health. She told them of the mental agony
she was then enduring, and of the heavier woes which were
thickly scattered through that endless career she was about
to enter. All her conversation was interspersed with the
most heart-rending exclamations of despair. She said she
knew that God was ready to forgive the sincerely penitent,
but that her sorrow was not sorrow for sin, but dread of its
awful penalty.
I had already said all that I could to lead her to the
Saviour — but no Saviour cast his love on this dying bed —
no ray of peace cheered the departing soul. Youth and
beauty were struggling with death ; and as that eye which
but a few days before had sparkled with gayety, now gazed
on eternity, it was fixed in an expression of despair.
" By many a death-bed I had been,
And many a sinner's parting seen,
But never aught like this."
There was nothing that could be said. The moanings
of the sufferer mingled with the prayer, which was almost
inarticulately uttered, from the emotions which the scene
inspired.
Late in the afternoon I called again. But her reason
was gone, and in restless agony she was grappling with
death. Her friends were standing around her, but she did
not recognize them. Every eye in the room was filled with
tears, but poor Louisa saw not, and heeded not their weep-
ing. It was a scene which neither pen nor pencil can por-
triiy. At the present moment that chamber of death is as
8 THE AMIABLE LOUISA.
vividly present to my mind as it was when I looked upon it
through irrepressible tears. I can now see the disorder of
the dying bed — the restless form — the swollen veins — the
hectic burning cheek — the eyes rolling wildly around the
room — and the weeping friends. Who can describe such a
scene ? And who can imagine the emotions which one must
feel who knew her history, and who knew that this delirium
succeeded temporal, and perhaps preceded eternal despair ?
Louisa could no longer listen to my prayers ; she could no
longer receive the precious instructions of God's word. And
what could be said to console her friends ? Nothing. " Be
still, and know that I am God," was all that could be said.
I could only look and listen with reverence, inwardly pray-
ing that the sad spectacle might not be lost upon any of us.
For some time I lingered around the solemn scene in silence.
Not a word was spoken. All knew that death was near.
The friends who were most deepl}^ affected struggled hard
to restrain the audible expression of grief. In silence I had
entered the room, and in silence and sadness I Avent away.
Early the next morning I called at the door to inquire
for Louisa.
" She is dead, sir," was the reply to my question.
" At what time did she die ?"
" About midnight, sir."
" Was her reason restored before her death ?"
*' It appeared partially to return a few moments before
she breathed her last, but she was almost gone, and we
could hardly understand what she said."
" Did she seem any more peaceful in her mind ?"
" Her friends thought, sir, that she did express a will-
ingness to depart, but she Avas so weak and so far gone
that it was impossible for her to express her mind Avith an}?-
clearness."
This is all that can be said of the eternal prospects of
one who " ivished to live a gay and merry life till just
hefore death, and then to become 2>ioiis, and die happyT
Reader,
" Be wise to-day — 'tis madness to defer."
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
nro. 276.
BIBLE ARGUMENT
FOR
TEMPERANCE.
BY REV. AUSTIN DICKINSON.
The Bible requires us to " present our bodies a living-
sacrifice, holy and acceptable unto God ;" to " purify our-
selves, even as he is pure ;" to " give no occasion of stum-
bling to any brother;" to "give no offence to the church
of God;" to "love our neighbor as ourselves;" to "do
good to all as we have opportunity ;" to "abstain from all
appearance of evil ;" to " use the world as not abusing it ;"
and, " whether we eat or drink, or whatsoever we do, to do
all to the glory of God."
A Being of infinite benevolence could not prescribe
rules of action less holy, and they are " the same that shall
judge us in the last day." Any indulgence, therefore, not
consistent with these rules, is rebellion against the great
Lawgiver, and must disqualify us for " standing in the judg-
ment."
As honest men, then, let us try by these rules the com-
mon practice of drinking or selling intoxicating liquor.
The use of such liquor, instead of enabling us to " pre-
sent our bodies a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable,"
actually degrades, and prematureUj destroys both body and
mind. Dr. Rush, after enumerating various loathsome dis-
eases, adds, that these are " the usual, natural, and legiti-
mate consequences of its use." Another eminent physician
says, " The observation of twenty years has convinced me,
that were ten young men, on their twenty-first birthday,
to begin to drink one glass of ardent spirit, and were they
vol,. VIII. 20
2 BIBLE ARGUJIEXT FOR TEMPERAN-CE.
to drink this supposed moderate quantity daily, the lives of
eight out of the ten would be abridged by ten or fifteen
years." When taken freely, its corrupting influences are
strikingly manifest. And even when taken moderately, very
few now pretend to doubt that it shortens life. But nothing
can be clearer, than that he who thus wilfully cuts short
his probation five, ten, or twenty years, is as truly a suicide,
as if he slew himself violently. Or if he knowingly encour-
age his neighbor to do this, he is equally guilty. He is, by
the law of God, " a murderer."
But besides prematurely destroying the body, alcoholic
drink injures the immortal mind. To illustrate the blinding
and perverting influence of even a small quantity of such
liquor, let a strictly temperate man spend an evening with
a dozen others indulging themselves " moderately :" they
will be sure to say things which to him will appear foolish,
if not wicked ; and which will appear so to themselves on
reflection ; though at the time they may not be conscious
of any impropriety. And if this "moderate indulgence"
be habitual, there must, of course, be an increased mental
perversion ; till conscience is " seared as with a hot iron,"
and the mind is lost to the poAver of being aff'ected by truth,
as well as to the capacity for usefulness. And is this
destruction of the talents God has given, consistent with the
injunction to "glorify God in body and spirit?"
Again, the habit of drinking is incoirqKitihle with that
eminent holiness to ivhich you are commanded to aspire. The
great Founder of Christianity enjoins, " Be ye perfect, even
as your Father in heaven is perfect." This Avill be the true
Christian's desire. And a soul aspiring to the image and
full enjoyment of God, will have no relish for any counter-
acting influence.
Is it said, that for eminently holy men to "■ mingle strong
drink" may be inconsistent; but not so for those less spir-
itual ? This is making the want of spirituality an excuse
for sensuality ; thus adding sin to sin, and only provoking
the Most High. His mandate is universal : " Be ye holy,
for I am holy."
BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEiMPERANtE. 3
To this end you are charged to " abstain from fleshly-
lusts, which war against the soul ;" to "mortify your mem-
bers, which are earthly ;" to *' exercise yourselves rather
unto godliness;" to ''be kindly aftectioned towards all
men." But who does not know that ''strong drink," not
only ''eats out the brain," but "taketh away the heart,"
diminishes " natural affection," and deadens the moral sen-
sibihties, while it cherishes those very passions which the
Holy Spirit condemns ? And how can one aspiring to the
divine image, drink that which thus tends to destroy all
that is pure, spiritual, and lovely, Avhile it kindles the very
elements of hell ?
The use of such liquor is utterly inconsistent ivith any
thing like high spiritual enjoyment, clear spirittml views, or
true devotion. A sense of shame must inevitably torment
the professor who in such a day cannot resist those " fleshly
lusts which war against the soul ;" his brethren will turn
from him in pity or disgust ; and, what is infinitely more
affecting, the Holy Spirit will not abide with him. Thus,
without an approving conscience, without cordial Christian
intercourse, without the smiles of the Comforter, how can
he enjoy religion ?
Abstinence from highly stimulating liquor or food has
ever been regarded indispensable to that serenity of soul
and clearness of views so infinitely desirable in matters of
religion. Hence, the ministers of religion especially, were
commanded not to touch an}^ thing like strong drink when
about to enter the sanctuary. Lev. 10:9. And this, it is
added, shall be a statute for ever throughout your genera-
tions ; that ye may put difference between holy and unholy ;
clearly showing God's judgment of the effect of temperance
on spiritual discernment.
On the principle of abstinence we may account, in part,
for that holy ecstasy, that amazing clearness of spiritual
vision, sometimes enjoyed on the deathbed. " Administer
nothing," said the eloquent dying Summerfield, "that will
create a stupor, not even so much as a little porter and
water — that I may have an unclouded view.'" For the same
4 BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEMPERANCE.
reason, Dr. Rush, who so well knew the effect of strong
drink, peremptorily ordered it not to be given him in his
last hours. And it is recorded, that the dying Sa\iour,
" who knew all things," when offered " wine mingled with
myrrh," ''received it not.'''' The truly wise will not barter
visions of glory for mere animal excitement and mental stu-
pefaction.
Equally illustrative of our principle is the confession of
an aged deacon, accustomed to drink moderately : " I always,
ill prayer, felt a coldness and heaviness at heart — never sus-
pecting it was the whiskey ! but since that is given up, I
have heavenly communion T^ O, what an increase of pure
light and joy might there be, would all understand this, and
be temperate in all things.'''
The use of such liquor is inconsistent with the sacred
order and clisci])line of the church. A venerable minister,
of great experience, gives it as the result of his observation,
that nine-tenths of all the cases calling for church discipline
have in former years been occasioned by this liquor. This
is a tremendous fact. But a little examination will convince
any one that the estimate is not too high. And can it be
right to continue an indulgence that brings tenfold, or even
fourfold more trouble and disgrace on the church than all
other causes imited ? Do not these foul " spots in your
feasts of charity" clearly say, "Touch not the unclean
thinor?" Can Ave countenance that which is certain to
CD
bring deep reproach on the church of Christ ? '' It must
needs be that offences come, but woe to that man by whom
the offence cometh."
The use of alcoholic liquor by the religious community
is inconsistent ivith the hope of reforming and saving the
intemperate ; and thus shows a want of love to souls. The
Christian knows, that drunkards cannot inherit eternal life.
He knows also, that hundreds of thousands now sustain or
are contractino- this odious character ; and that if the e\dl
be not arrested, millions more Avill come on in the same
track, and go down to the burning gulf. But the man who
drinks just so much as to make himself "feel well," cannot
BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEMPERANCE. 5
reprove the drunkard who only does the same thin<r. The
drunkard may say to him, " My appetite is stronger than
yours ; more, therefore, is necessary, in order to make me
*feel well;' and if you cannot deny yourself, how can I
control a more raging appetite ?" This rebuke would be
unanswerable.
All agree that total abstinence is the only hope of the
drunkard. But is it not preposterous to expect him to
abstain, if he sees the minister, the elder, the deacon, and
other respectable men indulging their cups ? With mind
enfeebled and character lost, can he summon resolution to
be singular, and live more temperately than his acknow-
ledged superiors ? — thus telling to all that lie has been a
drunkard! This cannot be expected of poor sunken hu-
man nature. No ; let moderate drinking be generally al-
lowed, and in less than thirty years, according to the past
ratio of their deaths, armies of drunkards greater than all
the American churches, will s^o from this land of licrht and
freedom to " everlasting chains of darkness." If, then, the
drunkard is worth saving, if he has a soul capable of shin-
ing with seraphim, and if you have **' any bowels of mercies,'*
then give him the benefit of your example. Professing to
"do good to all as you have opportunity," be consistent in
this matter. By a little self-denial you may save multitudes
from ruin. But if you cannot yield a little, to save fellow -
sinners from eternal pain, have you the spirit of Him who,
for his enemies, exchanged a throne for a cross ?
Could all the wailings of the thousand thousands slain
by this poison come up in one loud thunder of remonstrance
on your ear, you might then think it wrong to sanction its
use. But "let God be true," and those wailings are as real
as if heard in ceaseless thunders.
Again, the use of intoxicating drink is inconsistent with
t}:ue Christian patriotism. All former efforts to arrest the
national sin of intemperance have failed. A glorious effort
is now making to remove it with pure Avater. Thousands
are rejoicing in the remedy. ISTot a sober man in the nation
really doubts its efficacv and importance. Who, then, that
VOL. VIII. 20*
6 BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEMPERANCE.
regards our national, character can hesitate to adopt it ? Es-
pecially, who that is a Christian, can cling to that which
has darkened the pathway of heaven, threatened our liber-
ties, desolated families and neighborhoods, and stigmatized
us as a "nation of drunkards?"
Is it said, that the influence of a small temperance so-
ciety, or church, is unimportant ? Not so ; its light may
save the surrounding region ; its example may influence a
thousand churches. And let the thousand thousand pro-
fessing Christians in this land, with such others as they can
enlist, resolve on total abstinence — let this great example
be held up to view — and it would be such a testimony as the
world has not yet seen. Let such a multitude show, that
these drinks are unnecessary, and reformation easy, and the
demonstration would be complete. Few of the moral would
continue the poison ; thousands of the immoral abandon it
at once ; and the nation be reformed.
The use of this liquor is inconsistent loith the proper in-
fluence of Christian example. The Saviour says, " Let your
light so shine before men, that they may see your good
works, and glorify your Father w^ho is in heaven." But
will men esteem Christians the more for drinking, and thus
be led to glorify God on their behalf? Or will the Saviour
praise them for this, "when he shall come to be glorified in
his saints, and to be admired in all them that beheve?"
Rather, w^ill not their drinking lead some to excess, and thus
sully the Creator's work ? Nay, is it not certain, that if
the religious community indulge, the example will lead
millions to drunkenness and perdition ? And, on the other
hand, is it not morally certain, that if they abstain, their
combined influence will save millions from infamy and ruin ?
How, then, in view of that day when all the bearings of
your conduct shall be judged, can you hesitate on which
side to give your influence ? It is not a little matter ; for
who can conceive the results of even one impulse, among
beings connected with others by ten thousand strings !
The use of this liquor is inconsistent with that harmony
a/nd brotherly love which Christ requires in his professed
BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEMPERANCE. 7
folloivers. He requires them to " love one another with a
pure heart, fervently;" to "be all of one mind ;" to be "of
one heart and one soul." But who does not see the utter
impossibility of this, if some continue an indulgence which
others regard with abhorrence ? Since public attention has
been turned to the subject, thousands have come to the full
conviction, that to use intoxicating liquor is a sinful as well
as foolish practice. The most distinguished lights of the
church, and such as peculiarly adorn human nature, embrace
this sentiment. And how can you associate with these, and
yet continue a habit viewed by them with disgust ? Ah,
the man, however decent, who " will have his glass, not
caring whom he offends," must have it ; but he must also
" have his reivard.'' " Whoso shall offend one of these little
ones ivhich believe in me, it were better for him that a mill-
stone were hanged about his neck."
The use of intoxicating drink, in this day of light, is in-
compatible loith the hope of receiving any general effusion of
ihe Holy Spirit. Christians are allowed to hope for the
Spirit to be poured out only in answer to prayer — true,
spiritual, believing prayer. " If they regard iniquity in
their heart, the Lord will not hear them." If they wilfully
cherish sin, they cannot have faith. Indeed, how odious
the spectacle of a company looking towards heaven, but in
the posture of devotion breathing forth the foul, fiery ele-
ment— literally " offering strange fire before the Lord !"
We are not, then, to expect divine influence to come
down "like showers that water the earth," till we put away
that which we know tends only to wither and consume all
the " fruits of the Spirit."
The loaste of property in the use of alcoholic drink is
inconsistent with faithful steivardship for Christ. Religious
"contributions" are among the appointed means for saving
the world. But allow each of the tens of thousands of pro-
fessing Christians in this land only three cents worth of
such liquor daily, and the annual cost is some millions of
DOLLARS ; which would be sufficient to support thousands
OF missionaries. Let "stewards" of the Lord's bounty,
8 BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEMPERANCE.
then, who would consume their portion of this "little'' on
appetite, ponder and blush for such inconsistency ; and let
them hasten to clear off the heavy charge, " Ye have rob-
bed me, even this tvhole nation.''
Again, to indulge in intoxicating liquor is inconsistent
loith attempts to recommend the Gospel to the heathen. Noth-
ing has done more, in former years, to prejudice our Indian
neighbors, and hinder among them the influence of the Gos-
pel, than those liquors we have encouraged them to use.
Several tribes have set the noble example of excluding them
by the strong arm of law ; and it is only by convincing such
that really consistent Christians do not encourage these evils,
that our missionaries have been able to gain their confidence.
The same feeling prevails in some distant heathen na-
tions. They cannot but distrust those who use and sell a
polluting drink, which they, to a great extent, regard with
abhorrence.
Suppose our missionaries should meet the heathen with
the Bible in one hand, and the intoxicating cup in the other ;
what impression would they make ? Nature herself would
revolt at the alliance. And nothing but custom and fashion
have reconciled any to similar inconsistencies at home.
But not only must our missionaries be imspotted, they
must be able to testify, that no real Christians encourage
this or any unclean thing. With such testimony they might
secure the conviction, that our religion is indeed elevating,
and that our God is the true God. For saith Jehovah,
*' Then shall the heathen know that I am the Lord, when I
shall be sanctified in you before their eyes."
Indulgence in this drink, especially by the church, is
inconsistent with any reasonable hope that the fiood of intem-
perance would not return iqjon the land, even should it for a
season be dried up. The same causes which have produced
it would produce it again, unless there be some permanent
counteracting influence. Temperance associations ar6 un-
speakably important as means of reformation. But they
are not permanent bodies ; their organization may cease
when intemperance is once done away ; and unless the prin-
BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEMPERANCE. 9
ciple of TOTAL ABSTINENCE be generally acknowledged and
regarded as a Christian duty, by some great association that
is to be 2yerpetual, it may in time be forgotten or despised ;
and then drunkenness will again abound. Such an associa-
tion is found only in ''the church of the living God." This
will continue while the world stands. Let the principle of
ENTIRE ABSTINENCE, then, be recognized by all members of
the church, and such others as they can influence ; and you
have a great multitude to sustain the temperance cause,
"till time shall be no longer." And can the real Christian,
or patriot, think it hard thus to enlist for the safety of all
future generations ? If parents love their offspring, if
Christians love the millions coming upon the stage, will
they not gladly secure them all from the destroyer ? Has
he a shadow of consistency who will rather do that, which,
if done by the church generally, would lead millions to
hopeless ruin ?
The use of intoxicating drink, as an article of luxury or
living, is inconsistent with the plain sjnrit and -precepts of
God's word. The proper use to be made of it, is so dis-
tinctly pointed out in Scripture, that men need not mistake.
It is to be used as a medicine in extreme cases. '' Give
strong drink unto him that is ready to perish.'''' Its com-
mon use is condemned as foolish and pernicious. " Strong-
drink is raging ; and whosoever is deceived thereby, is not
wise.'" "They are out of the way through strong drink;
they err in vision ; they stumble in judgment." Such pas-
sages show clearly the mind of God with respect to the
nature and use of this article.
Moreover, it is said, " Woe unto him that giveth his
neighbor drink." But does not every man who sells or
uses this liquor, as a beverage, encourage his neighbor to
drink, and thus contemn God's authority ? Does he not
aggravate his guilt by sinning against great light ? And
would he not aggravate it still further, should he charge
the blame on the sacred word ? 0, what a blot on the
Bible, should one sentence be added, encouraging the com-
mon use of intoxicating liquor/ "If any man thus add,
10 BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEMPERANCE.
God shall add unto him the plagues that are written in this
book."
To encourage the manufacture of such liquors is to
abuse the bounties of Providence. When God had formed
man, he kindly said, " Behold, I have given you every herb
bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and
every tree, in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed ;
to you it shall be for meat." God, then, it seems, intended
men should use the fruits of the earth for food. But " they
have sought out many inventions." And one of these is,
to convert these " gifts of God " into a poison, most insid-
ious in its nature, and destructive both to soul and body.
The distiller, the vender, and the consumer, encourage one
another in this perversion of God's gifts. And is this " re-
ceiving his gifts with thanksgiving?" Better, infinitely bet-
ter, to cast them at once into the fire, and say unto the Al-
mighty, " We have no need of these." But the ingratitude
does not stop here. When men, in abuse of the divine
bounty, have made this poison, to give it currency, they
call it one of the "creatures of God." With as much pro-
priety might they call gambling establishments and mur-
derous weapons his " creatures." But how awful the im-
piety of thus ascribing the worst of man's inventions to the
benevolent God !
For a man to persevere in making, selling, or using in-
toxicating liquor, as an article of luxury or living, while
FULLY KNOWING ITS EFFECTS, and pOSSeSSing THE LIGHT
Providence has poured on this subject, is utterly incon-
sistent with any satisfactory evidence of piety. "By their
fruits ye shall know them." And what are his fruits. Why,
as Ave have seen, he wilfully cuts short his own life, or the
life of his neighbor; he wilfully impairs memory, judgment,
imagination, all the immortal faculties, merely for sensual
indulgence or paltry gain ; he stupefies conscience, and cher-
ishes all the evil passions ; he prefers sordid appetite to
pure spiritual enjoyment ; he is the occasion of stumbling
to those for whom Christ died, and of dark reproach on the
church ; he neglects the only means Providence has pointed
BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEMPERANCE. H
out for saving millions from drunkenness and perdition ; he
wilfully encourages their downward course ; he refuses the
aid he might give to a great national reform ; he lends his
whole weight against this reformation ; he is the occasion
of offence, grief, and discord among brethren; he grieves
the Holy Spirit ; he robs the Lord's treasury ; he makes
Christianity infamous in the eyes of the heathen ; he disre-
gards the plain spirit of the Bible ; and, in fine, he perverts
even the common bounties of Providence. Such are his
fruits. And the jnan, surely, who can do all this in me-
ridian lio'ht, while God is looking on, and widows and or-
phans are remonstrating, does not c/ive satisfactory evidence
of piety. He shows neither respect for God nor love to
man.
Let conscience now solemnly review this whole argu-
ment by the infinitely holy law. Is it indeed right and
scriptural to impair body and mind, to defile the flesh,
cloud the soul, stupefy conscience, and cherish the worst
passions ? Is it right to bring occasions of stumbling into
the church ? Is it right to encourage drunkards ; right to
treat with contempt a great national reform ? Is it right
to offend such as Christ calls " brethren ;" rio-ht to o-rieve
the Holy Spirit, and hinder his blessed influence ? Is it
right to ''consume on lust" what would fill the Lord's
treasury ; and right to make rehgion odious to the heathen ?
Is it right to leave the land exposed to new floods of intem-
perance ; to disregard the manifest lessons of God's word
and providence ; and to convert food to poison ? Is it in-
deed scriptural and right to sanction habits fraught only
with wounds, death, and perdition ? Can real Christians,
by example, propagate such heresy ?
Let it not be suggested that our argument bears chiefly
against the excessive use of these hquors ; for common ob-
servation and candor will testify that the moderate use of
the poison is the real occasion of all its woes and abomina-
tions. Who was ever induced to taste, by the disgusting
sight of a drunkard ? Or who ever became a drunkard,
except bv moderate indulgence in the beginning? Indeed,
12 BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEMPERANCE.
this habit of moderate drinking is, perhaps, tenfold loorse
in its general influence on society than occasional instances
of drunkenness ; for these excite abhorrence and alarm,
while moderate indulgence sanctions the general use, and
betrays millions to destruction. 0 never, since the first
temptation, did Satan gain such a victory, as when he in-
duced Christians to sanction everywhere the use of intoxi-
cating liquor. And never, since the triumph of Calvary,
has he experienced such a defeat as they are now sum-
moned to accomplish. Let them unitedly pledge them-
selves against strong drink, and by diffusing light on this
subject, do as much to expose as they have done to encour-
age this grand device of Satan, and mighty rivers of death
will soon be dried up.
In this work of light and love, then, be generous, " be
sober, be self-denying, be vigilant, be of one mind ;" for
the great adversary, *'as a roaring lion, walketh about."
And possibly through apathy, or discord, or treason among
professed friends of temperance, " Satan may yet get an
advantage," and turn our fair morning into a heavier night
of darkness, and tempest, and war. But woe to that man
who, in this day of light, shall wilfully encourage the ex-
citing cause of such evils. And heaviest woe to him who
shall avail himself of a standing in the church for this pur-
pose. I hear for such a loud remonstrance from countless
millions yet unborn, and a louder still from the throne of
eternal Justice.
But " though we thus speak," we hope better things,
especially from the decided followers of the Lamb, of every
name ; " things which make for peace, things wherewith
one may edify another, and things which accompany salva-
tion" to a dying world.
THE
ETERNAL MISERY OF HELL.
BY REV. JAMES SAURIN
God would never threaten mankind with a punishment,
the infliction of which would be incompatible with his per-
fections. If the reality of such a hell as the Scriptures de-
scribe be inconsistent with the perfections of the Creator,
such a hell would not have been revealed. The infinite
holiness of God will not allow him to terrify his creatures
with the idea of a punishment which he cannot inflict with-
out injustice ; and, considering the weakness of our reason
and the narrow limits of our knowledge, we ought not to
say. Such a thing is unjust; therefore, it is not revealed :
but on the contrary, we should rather say. Such a thing is
revealed ; therefore, it is just.
Observe, then, the quality and the duration of the pun-
ishments of hell.
A privation of celestial happiness is the first idea of
hell — an idea which we are incapable of forming fully in
this life. We have eyes of flesh and blood— we judge of
happiness and misery according to this flesh and blood,
and as things relate to our families, our fortunes, our pro-
fessions ; and we seldom think we have immortal souls. In
the great day of retribution all these veils will be taken
away ; darkness will be dissipated ; scales will fall from our
eves ; the chief good will be known ; but what will be the
condition of him, who no sooner discovers the chief good
than he discovers also that he shall be for ever deprived of
it. Represent to yourself a man constrained to see, and
made by his own experience to know, that the pleasures,
the grandeur, and all the riches of this world are nothing
vol.. VIII.
'il
2 THE ETERNAL MISERY OF HELL.
but wind and smoke ; and that true felicity consists in com-
munion with God — in beholding his perfections and partici-
pating his glory : or, to use emblems taken from Scripture,
represent to yourself a man who shall see the nuptial cham-
ber of the bridegroom — his triumphant pomp and his mag-
nificent palace ; and who shall see all these glorious objects
as felicities which his crimes forbid him to enjoy. What
regrets ! what despair ! Lord of nature ! Being of beings !
adorable assemblage of all perfections ! Eternal Father !
well-beloved Son ! Holy Spirit ! glorious body of the divine
Redeemer ! archangels ! cherubim ! seraphim ! powers ! do-
minions ! general assembly of the first-born ! myriads of
angels ! apostles ! martyrs ! saints of all ages and of all na-
tions ! unfading crown ! perfect knowledge ! communion of
a soul with its God 1 throne of glory ! fulness of joy I rivers
of pleasure ! All Avhich I see, all which I know, and wish
to enjoy, even while avenging justice separates me from
you. Am I, then, for ever excluded from all your ineffable
delights ; are you all shown to me to make me more sensi-
ble of my misery ; and do you display so much felicity only
to render my pain more acute, and my destruction more
terrible ?
Consider pcchif id sensations. To these belong all those
expressions of Scripture — " darkness, blackness of dark-
ness, thirst, fire, lake burning with fire and brimstone " —
and all these to such a degree that the damned would es-
teem as an invaluable benefit one drop of water to cool their
tongues. Luke 16 : 24. We dare not pretend to determine
that hell consists of material fire. But if you recollect the
power of God to excite in our souls such sensations as he
pleases — if to this reflection you add the thought, that Scrip-
ture almost always employs the idea of fire to express the
pains of hell, you will be inclined to believe that most of
these unhappy sufferers literally endure torments like those
w'hich men burning in flames feel, whether God act imme-
diately on their souls, or unite them to particles of material
fire. The yery name given in Scripture to the fire of hell.
THE ETERx\AL MISERY OF HELL. 3
hath something very significant in it : it is called the fire
of Gehenna. Matt. 5 : 22. This word is compounded of
words which signify the valley of H'mnom : this valley was
rendered famous by the abominable sacrifices which the
idolatrous Jews offered to Moloch. They set up a hollow
brazen figure, inclosed their children in it, kindled fires un-
derneath, and in this horrible manner consumed the miser-
able infant victims of their cruel superstition. This is an
image of hell — terrible image ! We have no need of ab-
stract and metaphysical ideas. Who among us could
patiently bear his hand one hour in fire ? who would not
tremble to be condemned to pass one day in this monstrous
machine ? and who, who could bear to be eternally con-
fined in it — ''and yet forbid to die?" When we see a
criminal in chains, given up to an executioner of human jus-
tice, and just going to be burnt to death, nature shudders
at the sight — the flesh of spectators shivers — and the cries
of the sufferer rend their heart, and excite, in painful com-
passion, all the emotions of the soul ! What then must it
be to be delivered up to an executioner of divine justice ?
What to be cast into the fire of hell ? Delicate flesh ! fee-
ble organs of the human body ! what will you do when you
are cast into the quick and devouring flames of hell ?
The third idea of future punishment is that of the
remorse of conscience. The pains of the mind are as lively
and sensible as those of the body. The grief of one man
who loses a person dear to him ; the inquietude of another
afraid of apparitions and spectres ; the gloomy terrors of a
third in solitude ; the emotions of a criminal receiving his
sentence of death ; and above all, the agitation of a con-
science filled with a sense of guilt, are pains as lively and
sensible as those which are excited by the most cruel tor-
ments. What great effects has remorse produced. It has
made tyrants tremble ; it has smitten the knees of a Bel-
shazzar together in the midst of his courtiers ; it has ren-
dered the voluptuous insensible to pleasure ; and it has put
many a hardened wretch upon the rack. It has done more :
4 THE ETERNAL xAIISERY OF HELL.
it has forced some, who upon scaffolds and wheels have
denied their crimes, after a release, to confess them — to find
out a judge — to give evidence against themselves — and to
implore the mercy of a violent death, more tolerable than
the agonies of their guilty souls. This will be the state of
the damned — this will be the worm that never dies ! Con-
science will do homage to an avenging God : it will be
forced to acknowledge that the motives of the Gospel were
highly proper to affect every man who had not made his
face as an adamant — Ms forehead harder than a flint. It
will be forced to acknowledge that the goodness of God had
been enough to penetrate every heart — even those which
were least capable of gratitude ; it will be constrained to
own that the strivings of the Spirit of God had been wil-
fully resisted ; it will be driven to own that the destruction
of man came of himself, and that he sacrificed his salvation
to vain imaginations, more delusive than vanity itself. The
testimony of a good conscience hath supported martyrs in
fire and tortures. When a martyr said to himself, I suffer
for truth ; I bear my Saviour's cross ; I am a martyr for
God himself ; he was happy in spite of seeming horrors.
But when the reproaches of conscience are added to terrible
torments, when the sufferer is obliged to say to himself, I
am the author of my own punishment ; I suffer for my own
sins ; I am a victim for the devil ; nothing can equal his
horror and despair.
A fourth idea is taken from the horror of the society in
hell. How great soever the misery of a man on earth may
be, he bears it with patience, when wise discourse is ad-
dressed to him for his consolation — when a friend opens his
bosom to him — when a father shares his sufiferings, and a
charitable hand endeavors to wipe away his tears ; the con-
versation of a grave and sympathizing friend diminishes his
troubles, softens his pains, and charms him under his afflic-
tions, till he becomes easy and happy in them. But what
society is that in hell ? Imagine yourself condemned to
pass all your days with those odious men who seem formed
THE ETERNAL MISERY OF HELL. 5
only to trouble the world. Imagine yourself shut up in a
close prison with a band of reprobates — imagine yourself
lying on a death-bed, and having no other comforters than
traitors and assassins ! This is an image of hell. 0 God,
what a society ! tyrants, assassins, blasphemers — Satan with
his angels — the prince of the air with all his infernal legions !
From all these ideas results a fifth — an increase of sin.
As God will aggravate the sufferings of the damned by dis-
playing his glorious attributes, their hatred of him will be
unbounded — their torment will excite their hatred — their
hatred will aggravate their torment. Is not this the height
of misery ? To be filled with unmixed hate towards the
perfect Being, the supreme Being, the sovereign Beauty —
in a word, to hate the infinite God ! Does not this idea
present to your mind a state the most melancholy, the most
miserable? One chief excellence of the glory of happy
spirits is a consummate love to their Creator. One of the
most horrible punishments of hell is the exclusion of divine
love. O miserable state of the damned ! In it they utter
as many blasphemies against God as the happy souls in
heaven shout hallelujahs to his praise.
These are the punishments of condemned souls. It
remains only that we consider the length and duration
of them. But can we number the innumerable, and meas-
ure that which is immeasurable ? Can we make you com-
prehend the incomprehensible ; and shall we amuse you
with our imaginations ?
When I endeavor to represent eternity to myself, I avail
myself of whatever I conceive most long and durable. I
go back to the patriarchal age, and consider a life extending
through a thousand years ; and I say to myself, All this is
not eternity — all this is only a point in comparison of eter-
nity.
I go from our age to the time of publishing the Gospel ;
from thence to the publication of the law — from the law to
the flood, from the flood to the creation ; I join this epoch
VOL. VIII. 21*
(5 THE ETERNAL MISERY OF HELL.
to the present time, and I. imagine Adam yet living. Had
Adam lived till now, and had he lived in misery — had he
passed all his time in fire, or on a rack — what idea must we
form of his condition ? At what price would we agree to
expose ourselves to misery so great ? What imperial glory
would appear glorious, were it followed by so much woe ?
Yet this is not eternity — all this is nothing in comparison
of eternity.
I go further still : I proceed from imagination to imag-
ination, from one supposition to another ; I take the greatest
number of years that can be imagined ; I add ages to ages,
millions of ages to millions of ages ; I form of all these one
fixed number, and I stay my imagination. After this, I
suppose God to create a world like this which we inhabit:
I suppose him creating it, by forming one atom after an-
other, and employing in the production of each atom the
time fixed in my calculation just now mentioned. What
numberless asfes would the creation of such a world in such
a manner require ! Then I suppose the Creator to arrange
these atoms, and to pursue the same plan of arranging them
as of creating them. What numberless ages would such an
arrangement require ! Finally, I suppose him to dissolve
and annihilate the whole, and observing the same method
in this dissolution as he observed in the creation and dispo-
sition of the whole. What an immense duration would be
consumed ! Yet this is not eternity — all this is only a point
in comparison of eternity.
Associate now all these suppositions, and of all these
periods make one fixed period ; multiply it again, and sup-
pose yourself to pass in multiplying it a time equal to that
which the period contains : it is literally and strictly true,
all this is not eternity — all this is only a point in comparison
of eternity.
Ah me ! one night passed in a burning fever, or in
struo-orlincr in the waves of the sea between life and death,
appears of immense length. It seems to the sufferer as if
the sun had forgot its course, and as if the laws of nature
THE ETERNAL MISERY OF HELL. 7
itself were subverted. ^NTiat, then, will be the state of
those miserable victims of divine displeasure, who, after
they shall have passed through the ages we have been de-
scribing, will be obliged to make this overwhelming reflec-
tion : All this is only an atom of our misery ! What will
their despair be, when they shall be forced to say to them-
selves. Again we must revolve through these enormous
periods — again we must suff'er a privation of celestial
happiness — devouring flames again — cruel remorse again —
crimes and blasphemies over and over again ! For ever —
for ever! Ah, how severe is this word, even in this life !
How great is a misfortune, when it is incapable of relief —
how insupportable, when we are obliged to add for ever to
it ! These irons for ever — these chains for ever — this prison
for ever — ^this universal contempt for ever— this domestic
trouble for ever ! Poor mortals, how short-sighted are you
to call sorrows eternal, which end with your Uves ! What,
this life— this life, that passeth with the rapidity of a iveav-
cr's shuttle — this life, which vanisheth like a sleep ! Is this
what you call /or ever ? Ah, absorbing periods of eternity —
accumulated myriads of ages— these, if I may be allowed
to speak so — these will be the for ever of the damned !
I sink under the weight of this subject ; and I declare,
when I see my friends, my relations, the people of my
charge— when I think that I, that you, that we are all
threatened with these torments— when I see, in the luke-
warmness of my devotions, in the languor of my love, in the
faintness of my resolutions and designs, the least evidence,
though it be only probable or presumptive, of my future
misery, yet I find in the thought a mortal poison, which
diff"uses itself into every period of my life, rendering society
tiresome, nourishment insipid, pleasure disgustful, and life
itself a cruel bitter— I cease to wonder that a fear of hell
has made some melancholy, and others mad ; that it has
inclined some to expose themselves to a living martyrdom
by fleeing from all commerce with the rest of mankind, and
others to suff'er the most violent and terrible torments.
8 THE ETERNAL MISERY OF HEI.L.
But the more terror this idea inspires, the more inex-
cusable we are, if it produce no good fruits in us. The
idea of eternity ought to subvert all our sinful projects.
In order to avoid eternal misery, all should be suffered, all
surmounted, all undertaken — sinful self should be crucified,
and the whole man devoted in holy sacrifice to God. Let
each moment of life expose us to a new martyrdom ; still,
we should be happy, could we avoid the flaming sword that
hangs over our heads, and escape the gulfs of misery which
yawn beneath our feet.
But remember, this life is the only time given to pre-
vent these terrible punishments. After this life, no more
exhortations, no more sermons, no more place for repent-
ance.
And think on the hrevlty of life — think there may be
perhaps only one year granted, perhaps only one month,
perhaps only one day, perhaps only one hour, perhaps only
one moment, to avoid this misery ; so that, perhaps — 0,
Lord, avert the dreadful supposition! — perhaps you may
this very day experience all these torments.
Finally, consider what God is now doing in your favor.
In the plenitude of his compassion, and with bowels of
tenderest love, he entreats and exhorts you to escape these
terrible miseries; he conjures you not to destroy yourself;
he saith to you, 0 that my people would hearken imto me !
Be instructed, 0 Jerusalem, lest my soul depart from thee !
Why, why will ye die, 0 house of Israel ? 0, if there re-
mained the least spark of reason in us, the image of hell
would make the deepest impression on our souls, and give
us no rest till we had full evidence that our feet were plant-
ed on the everlasting Rock !
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
IVo. 278.
MEANS OF A REVIVAL
BY PRESIDENT EDWARDS.
The first duty to Avhich our attention should be directed
is to remove stumbling-blocks. When God is revealed as
about to come gloriously to set up his kingdom in the world,
it is proclaimed, " Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make
straight in the desert a highway for our God." " Cast ye
up, cast ye up, prepare the way, take up the stumbling-
blocks out of the way of my people." And in order to
this, there must be confessing of faults. There is hardly
any duty more contrary to our corrupt dispositions and
mortifying to the pride of man ; but it must be done. Re-
pentance of faults is, in a peculiar manner, a proper duty,
when the kingdom of heaven is at hand, or when we espe-
cially expect or desire that it should come ; as appears by
John the Baptist's preaching. And if God now loudly calls
upon us to repent, then he also calls upon us to make
proper manifestations of our repentance. For Christians to
act like Christians in openly humbling themselves when they
have openly offended, brings in the end the greatest honor
to Christ and religion ; and in this way are persons most
likely to have God appear for them.
Again, at such a day as this God especially calls his
people to the exercise of meekness and mutual forbearance.
Christ appears as it were coming in his kingdom, which
calls for great moderation in our behavior towards all men ;
as is evident from Phil. 4:5, " Let your moderation be
known unto all men; the Lord is at hand :" the awe of the
Divine majesty that appears present or approaching, should
dispose us to it, and deter us from the contrary. For us to
be judging one another, and showing fierceness and bitter-
2 MEANS OF A REVIVAL.
ness one towards another, when he who is the Searcher of
all hearts, to whom we must all give an account, appears
so remarkably present, is exceedingly unsuitable. Our bu-
siness at such a time should be at home, searching ourselves,
condemning ourselves, taking heed to ourselves. If there
be glorious prosperity to the church of God approaching,
those that are the most meek will have the largest share in
it: for when Christ "rides forth in his glory and majesty,
it is because of truth, meekness, and righteousness." And
when God remarkably "arises to execute judgment, it is to
save all the meek of the earth." And it is "the meek"
that " shall increase their joy in the Lord." And when the
time comes that God will give this lower world into the
hands of his saints, it is " the meek " that " shall inherit the
earth." But "with the froward, God will show himself
fro ward." Psalm 18 : 26.
Contrary to this meekness, is stigmatizing one another
with odious names, which tends greatly to widen and per-
petuate breaches. Such distinguishing names of reproach
do, as it were, divide Christians into armies, separated and
drawn up in battle array, ready to fight one with another,
which greatly hinders the work of God.
Again, there is peculiarly requisite in God's people the
exercise of great patience in waiting on God under anij spe-
cial difficulties and disadvantages as to the means of grace.
The beginning of a revival of religion will naturally and
necessarily be attended with difficulties of this nature, by
reason of what remains of the old disease of a general cor-
ruption of the visible church. We cannot expect that, after
a long period of degeneracy and depravity in the state of
the church, thinofs should all become risfht at once : it must
be a work of time : and for God's people to be over-hasty
and violent in such a case, being resolved to have every
thing rectified at once, or else forcibly to deliver themselves
by breaches and separations, is the way to hinder the very
result they desire, and to break in pieces. The case, in-
deed, may be such, the difficulty so intolerable, as to allow
of no delay, and that God's people cannot continue in the
state wherein they were without violating absolute com-
mands of God. But otherwise, though the difficulty may
be very great, another course should be taken. God's peo-
MEANS OF A REVIVAL. 3
pie should have recourse directly to the throne of grace, to
present their difficulties before the " great Shephei'd of the
sheep," who has the care of all the affairs of his church ;
and while they do this they should wait patiently upon him.
If they do so, they may expect that in his time he will
appear for their deliverance ; but if, instead of this, they
are impatient, and take the work into their own hands, they
will betray their want of faith, and will dishonor God, and
cannot have such reason to hope that Christ will appear for
them as they have desired. They will rather have reason
to fear that he will leave them to manage their affairs for
themselves as well as they can ; when if they had waited
on Christ patiently, continuing instayit in ^wayer, he would
have appeared for them much moi'e effectually to deliver
them. " He that believeth shall not make haste ;" and it is
for those that are found patiently waiting on the Lord under
difficulties, that he will especially appear when he comes to
do great things for his church.
What has been said thus far, has relation to our obliga-
tions, as we would prevent the hinderance of a revival ; but
besides these, there are things that must be done more
directly to advance it. And here it concerns every one, in
the first place, to look into his own heart, and see to it that
he be a partaker of the benefits of the work himself, and
that it be promoted in his oion soul. It is manifestly with
respect to a time of great revival of religion that we have
that gracious, earnest, and moving invitation proclaimed in
Isaiah 55, " Ho, every one that thirsteth," etc., as is evi-
dent by what precedes and what folloAvs. In the sixth
verse, it is said, " Seek ye the Lord while he may be found ;
call upon him while he is near." And it is with special
reference to such a time that Christ proclaims, " I will give
unto him that is athirst, of the fountain of the water of life
freely."
Especially w^e that are 7ninisters not only have need of
some true experience of the saving influence of the Spirit
of God upon our heart, but we need a double portion of the
Spirit of God at such a time as this ; we have need to be as
full of light as a glass held out in the sun ; and with respect
to love and zeal, to be like the ano^els that are a flame of
4 MEANS OF A REVIVAT..
fire. The state of the times requires a fulness of the divine
Spirit in ministers, and we ought to give ourselves no rest
till we have obtained it. And in order to this, I should
think ministers, above all persons, ought to be much in
secret prayer and fasting, and also much in prayer and fast-
ing one with another. It seems to me it would be becom-
ing the circumstances of the present day, if ministers in . a
neighborhood would often meet together, and spend days
in fasting and fervent prayer among themselves, earnestly
seeking for extraordinary supplies of divine grace from
heaven.
Ministers in a special manner should act ns fellow -help-
ers in their great work. It should be seen that they are
animated and engaged, and exert themselves with one heart
and soul, and with united strength, to promote the revival
of religion ; and to this end they should often meet together,
and act in concert. And if it were a common thing for
ministers to join in public exercises and second one another
in their preaching, earnestly enforcing each other's warnings
and counsels, I believe it would be of great service. SucJi
united zeal in ministers would have a great tendency to
awaken attention and impress and animate the hearers, as
has been found by experience in some parts of the country.
Two things very essential in ministers, if they would
greatly advance the kingdom of Christ, are zeal and resolu-
tion. The influence and power of these to bring to pass
great effects, is more important than can well be imagined :
a man of but ordinary capacity "will do more with them, than
one of ten times the ability and learning without them:
more may be done with them in a few days or weeks, than
can be done without them in many years.
Zeal and courage will do much in persons of but ordi-
nary capacity ; but especially would they do great things,
if joined with superior abilities. If some distinguished men
who have appeared in our nation, had been as eminent in
piety as they were in philosophy, and had engaged in the
Christian cause with as much zeal and fervency as some
others have done, and with a proportionable blessing of
heaven, they would have moved and sent a benign influence
throuo-h the Avorld. We have many ministers and pious
laymen in the land distinguished for talents and learning;
they should consider how much is expected and will be
MEANS OF A REVIVAL. 5
required of them by their Lord and Master, and how much
they might do for Christ, and Avhat honor and how glorious
a reward they might receive, if they had in their hearts a
heavenly warmth and divine zeal proportionable to their
light.
~ Rich men, too, have a talent in their hands, in the dis-
posal and improvement of which they might very much
promote the revival and advancement of religion. They
have advantages far beyond others to do good, and lay up
for themselves treasures in heaven. One would think that
all our rich men who call themselves Christians, might de-
vise or select some glorious object to accomplish with their
money, for advancing the kingdom of their Redeemer and
the prosperity of the souls of men, at a time of such extra-
ordinary opportunities £or it. It seems to me, that in this
age most of us have but very narrow, penurious notions
of Christianity, as it respects the use and disposal of tem-
poral goods. The primitive Christians had not such limited
notions ; they were trained up by the apostles in another
way. And I trust in God the days are coming, when the
great and rich men of the world shall bring their honor and
glory into the church, and shall, as it were, strip themselves
to spread their garments under Christ's feet, as he enters
triumphantly into Jerusalem ; and when those that will not
do so shall have no glory, their silver and gold shall be
cankered, and their garments moth-eaten : for the saints
shall then inherit the earth, and those that honor God he
will honor, and those that despise him shall be lightly es-
teemed.
If some of our rich men would give one quarter of their
property to advance this work, they would act in some de-
gree as if they lived for the kingdom of Christ, and as rich
men by and by will act, who shall be partakers of the spir-
itual wealth and glories of that kingdom. Great things
might be done by liberal contributions for the support and
propagation of religion; by supporting preachers eminently
qualified by gifts and grace, in more destitute parts of the
country ; by bringing forward young men of promising abil-
ities, and whose hearts are full of love to Christ, for the
ministry ; and by distributing books that are remarkably
fitted to promote vital religion, or bearing the expense of
VOL. vrii. 22
Q MEANS OF A REVIVAI..
sending such books into various parts of the land to be
sold.*
But I would now proceed to mention some things that
at such a day concern oil.
And the first is, faHincf and 'praijer. It seems to me
that circumstances loudly call on God's people to abound
in this ; whether they consider the blessing already received
in the effusions of his Spirit ; the great encouragement
he has given to prayer in the richness and freeness of his
grace ; or the opposition of Satan, and the many obstacles
that must be encountered.
It is God's will, through his wonderful grace, that the
prayers of his saints should be one principal means of ad-
vancing the kingdom of Christ in the world. When God
has something very great to accomplish for his church, it
is his will that there should precede it the extraordinary
prayers of his people; as is manifest in Ezek. 36 : 37, "I
will yet for this he inquired of by the house of Israel, to
do it for them ;" together with the context. And it is re-
vealed, that Avhen God is about to accomplish great things
for his church, he Avill begin by remarkably pouring out the
spirit of grace and supplication. Zech. 12:10. If, in the
time of Christ, the devil was not cast out of a particular
person, under a bodily possession, without extraordinary
prayer, or prayer and fasting ; how much less should y^e
expect that he will be cast out of the land and the world
without it ?
I am sensible that much has been done in duties of this
kind, in some places ; but I do not think so much as God,
in the present dispensations of his providence and grace,
calls for. I think the people of God, in this land, at such
a time as this, would be in the way of their duty to devote
themselves three times as much as they do to fasting and
prayer; not only, nor principally, for the pouring out of
the Spirit on those towns or places where they reside ; but
that God would appear for his church, and in mercy to
miserable men, carry on his work throughout the land, and
the Avorld of mankind, and fulfil the thmgs he has spoken
* The standard evangelical volumes of the American Tract
Society, are well adapted to this purpose.
MEANS OF A REVIVAL. 7
in his word, and for which his church has been so long
wishing, and hoping, and waiting. They that make men-
tion of the Lord at this day, ought not to keep silence, and
should give him no rest till he establish, and till he make
Jerusalem a praise in the earth. Before the first great out-
pouring of the Spirit of God on the Christian church, which
began at Jerusalem, the church of God gave themselves to
incessant prayer. There is a time spoken of, wherein God
will remarkably and wonderfully appear for the deliverance
of his church from all her enemies, and when he will avenge
his own elect ; and Christ reveals that this will be in answer
to their incessant prayers, crying day and night. Luke 18:7.
In Israel, the day of atonement, which was their great day
of fasting and prayer, preceded and made way for the
glorious and joyful feast of tabernacles. When Christ is
mystically born into the world to rule over all nations, it is
represented in Rev. 12, as being in consequence of the
church's " crying, and travailing in birth." One thing here
intended, doubtless, is her crying and agonizing in prayer.
God seems now to be waiting for this from us. When
God is about to bestow some great blessing on his church,
he often so orders events in his providence as to show his
church their great need of it, and thus bring them to cry
earnestly to him. And let us consider God's present dis-
pensations towards his church in this land : a glorious work
of grace has been begun and carried on ; but God has suf-
fered difficulties to arise, and yet does not wholly forsake
the work of his hand ; there are remarkable tokens of his
presence still to be seen ; as though he was not forward to
forsake us, and, if I may so say, as though he had a mind
to carry on his work, but only w^as waiting for something
that he expected in us, as requisite in order to it. And we
have great reason to think that one thing at least is, that
we should further acknowledge the greatness and necessity
of such a mercy, and our dependence on God for it, in
earnest prayer.
There is, perhaps, no way that Christians can do so
much to promote the work of God, and advance the king-
dom of Christ, as by fervent prayer. Let persons have
ever so small advantages to do much for Christ and the
souls of men otherwise ; yet, if they have much of the
spirit of grace and supplication, they may have power with
g MEANS OF A REVIVAL,
Him that is infinite in power ; and thus a poor man in his
cottage may exert a blessed influence all over the world.
God is, if I may so say, at the command of the prayer of
faith ; and in this respect is, as it were, under the power of
his people : as princes, they have jiowev with God, and pre-
vail.
Finally, to promote a revival among a professing peo-
ple, one proper means, recommended by frequent Scripture
examples, is their solemn, public renewing their covenant
with God. And doubtless it would greatly tend to pro-
mote a work of grace in the land, if the congregations of
God's people generally should do this ; if, at a proper time,
a draft of a covenant should be made by their ministers,
wherein there should be an express mention of those par-
ticular duties that the people of the respective congrega-
tions have been observed to be most prone to neglect, and
those particular sins into which they have fallen, or of
which they are especially in danger, whereby they may
prevent or resist the motions of God's Spirit ; and the mat-
ter should be fully proposed and explained to the people,
and sufficient opportunity be given them for consideration,
and then they should appear together, on a day of prayer
and fasting, publicly to own it before God in his house, as
their vows to the 'Lord. In this way, congregations of
Christians might do that which would be beautiful, would
honor God, and be very profitable to themselves, and the
occasion of joy in heaven over many repenting sinners.
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
Xo. 379.
¥HAT HAVE I DONE?
BY REV. WILLIAM NEVINS, D. D
B ALTIMORE .
The person into whose hand this treatise may come, is
supposed to ask, " What have I done ?" and it is designed
to answer his question. Let no one refuse to consider the
answer on the ground that he knows already what he has
done better than any one can tell him. It may appear, on
examination, that you have yet much to learn in regard to
what you have done. Nor let any one deny me a hearing,
on the plea that it matters not what he has done. It mat-
ters much ; you are a moral and accountable agent, ansAver-
able for your conduct to God. There is a rule by which it
should be regulated : God is the author of that rule, and
he is the avenger of its violations. There is a conduct
which is pleasing to him, and a conduct which is displeas-
ing : and whether he be pleased or displeased, whether he
smile or frown, is certainly of some consequence.
The inquiry relates not merely to overt acts : what you
have done, embraces what you have said, thought, and/e?^
as well as what you have acted ; and for all you are equally
accountable. " The law is spiritual — the commandment is
exceeding broad — God will bring every work into judgment,
with every secret thmg — all a man's ways are right in his
own eyes, but the Lord pondereth the heart — the Lord
weigheth the spirit.''
This language, "What have I done?" sometimes be-
speaks a mind utterly devoid of conviction. It asks, in a
VOL. VIII. 22*
2 WHAT HAVE I DONE ?
spirit of self-justification, what evil the person has done.
At other times it expresses the keenest sensibihty to sin.
A person having done something, the evil nature of which
he did not at the time fully apprehend, and the sad conse-
quences of which he did not foresee, when afterwards he
comes to perceive the evil and mischief of it, exclaims in
mingled alarm and grief, " What have I done !"
I shall consider it as the language of simple inquiry ;
as the serious interrogation of a person willing to know
what he hath done. And God grant that while I am an-
swering the interrogation, '* What have I done?" it may
become the heart-felt exclamation of each impenitent reader.
You ask what you have done. I will tell you ; neither
on the one hand extenuating, nor on the other exaggerating.
1. What if you had done nothing? You say, "What
have I done ?" meaning perhaps that you have done noth-
ing, and supposing that this is a valid plea, a sufficient
justification for you. But is it so ? Can I not condemn
you on your own admission, out of your own mouth ? You
have done nothing ! But you are required to do something
— aye, much. You have done nothing ! Then you have
not loved God with all your heart, nor glorified him in your
body and spirit, which are his. If you have done nothing,
you have broken one-half, at least, of the law of God. In
so far as its positive requirements are concerned, you are
guilty, according to your own confession. It was for not
doing that the inhabitants of Meroz were cursed — " they
came not to the help of the Lord against the mighty."
They staid at home and minded their worldly business.
And Christ will say, he informs us, to those on his left
hand, in the final day, when he bids them depart from him,
"Inasmuch as ye did it not,'' etc. And he says also,
*'Cast ye the unprofitable servant," the servant that does
WHAT HAVE 1 DONE ? 3
nothing, " into outer darkness." You have done nothing!
But to do nothing when there is so much required to be
done, is to do evil — to do wrong — to do that which must
cast you away for ever. You need do no more than nothing
to insure and justify your condemnation. Strange, that
you should expect to be justified for the very reason for
which Christ says he will condemn men ! But,
2. This plea, though it would not sustain you, if you
could offer it, you cannot offer, for you have done something.
You have not been idle. You are no mere negative charac-
ter. You have acted under law, and in view of law, as a
moral and accountable agent. As such, you have perform-
ed innumerable acts, and have been the subject of number-
less exercises of thought and feeling ; each of which acts
and exercises has possessed a moral character, has or has
not been conformed to the revealed rule of duty, and is
worthy of praise or blame. It is impossible to compute
the number of times you have acted and been exercised in
the capacity of a moral agent and an accountable subject
of the law of God ; and all these have been acts of obe-
dience or of disobedience. Each exercise has been right
or wrong. They have met the approbation of God, or pro-
voked his displeasure. If they have been worthy of reward,
they will be rewarded ; if of punishment, they will be pun-
ished. Of the one or the other, they are worthy. All the
while you have lived, God has been looking on your heart
and life, and in view of each emotion, thought, and act, has
smiled or frowned.
Yes, you have done something: you have formed a
decided character. You have laid up a large store of some-
thing for the future ; you have done a great deal of good
or evil ; you are very much in the right, or very far in the
wrong : which is it ? What have you done ?
3. You have done wrong. You have acted unreason-
4 WHAT HAVE 1 DONE ?
ably and unfitly. You have acted in opposition to those
dictates of duty which come to you from within. You
have disobeyed conscience. You have transgressed the
law written upon the heart.
You have done more : you have not only sinned against
your own soul, but against God. You have disobeyed the
Lord of conscience. You have acted contrary to his known
will ; broken his holy, just, and good law. You have done
all this — you cannot deny it — wrong, and thus wrong.
4. Now, suppose you had done this but once ; suppose
that of your innumerable acts and exercises only one was
sinful. Even on that supposition you are guilty, condemn-
ed, inexcusable, and undone. You cannot answer for that
one sin. The divine law tolerates sin in no respect, and in
no instance. " Cursed is every one that continueth not in all
things written in the book of the law to do them. He that
offerideth in one point, is guilty of all." Gal. 3:10; James
2 : 10. The law of God is one, and he that breaks it in any
part, breaks it all. The angels who kept not their first estate,
were consigned to the place they now occupy, in chains
and utter darkness, for doing wrong once. Did God wait
for a second offence? Why should he? Does human law
wait for the repetition of a crime ? In like manner Adam,
for one offence, incurred the sentence of death. ISTow, if you
have done wrong only once, you have done as much as de-
throned the angels, and destroyed the father of the human
race. If one offence ruined them, is not one enough to ruin
you ? But I need not speak on this supposition, for,
5. You have done wrong more than once. How many
times in your life do you suppose that you have acted,
spoken, thought, and felt sinfully and wrong ? So many
times, that there is but one Being who can tell how many ;
and he will tell, when "the books are opened" before as-
sembled worlds.
WHAT HAVE I DONE 1
Some appear to think that if their wrong doings, no
matter how many they be, do not exceed their right doings ;
if their good deeds only outnumber by one their evil deeds,
they have nothing to fear, and this is all that is required of
them. For this opinion there is as little support derived
from reason as from Scripture. There is none from either.
It is absolute folly to think and talk thus. A man should
be ashamed to entertain such an opinion. All analogy is
against it. Is this all that the magistrate requires of the
subject, or the parent of the child ; namely, that they be
careful to maintain a proper proportion between their acts
of obedience and their acts of disobedience, never permitting
the latter to outnumber the former? May the subject or
the child break this law, provided only he obey that ? Does
not all law require universal obedience ? Did any law ever
allow or excuse its own transgression in any respect or in-
stance ? There is not a government or society of any kind
existing among men, having laws or rules for its regulation,
which does not require the strict observance of all its rules
by its every member. It punishes every breach of each rule.
It does not wait till more than half of them are broken.
Yet men expect that the great and jealous God will
allow them to treat his holy, just, and good law, as no other
law was ever allowed to be treated. And all the hope which
many have is built on this expectation. Standing on this
foundation, they are looking forward to the prospect of meet-
ing God, with a calmness and confidence that nothing seems
capable of disturbing. They acknowledge they have sinned,
and they do not pretend that they have repented and secured
an interest in the atonement. They have not, they suppose,
sinned enough for that. It is not every sin, according to
their notion, that renders repentance and a satisfaction ne-
cessary ; but only the surplusage of sin, if any there should
be, after their good doings are subtracted from their evil
6 WHAT HAVE I DONE ?
ones ! Into what absurdity and folly, not to say aggravated
guilt, will erring mortals plunge. Sin first infatuates, then
destroys them. It begins with making fools of them, and
ends with making them ivretches.
You perceive, then, that it would avail nothing, though
you could maintain the ground, that your right doings out-
number your wrong doings. But even this ground, were it
available, you cannot maintain. For,
6. You have not done more good than evil — more right
than wrong. I know it is an astounding and unpalatable
sentiment that I am about to advance ; but it has the rec-
ommendation of being true, if it is not popular. You may
disbelieve it, but you cannot disprove it. It is this : instead
of having done more good than evil, if you are not now a
penitent, a believer in Christ, a new creature, you have, so
far as your moral nature is concerned, done no good — you
have done nothing right. Your moral acts and exercises
have been all of one kind, and all evil, all ivrong. When
this is said, it is not meant that your acts have been evil and
wrong in every sense of those words. Right and good,
accordino- to the subordinate sio-nification of those words, it
is not disputed that you have done ; but in the most impor-
tant sense of the words, their scriptural sense, that sense of
them in which they will be explained by God and under-
stood in the day of judgment, and that is the true sense of
them, you have done " only evil," and that " continually."
This assertion, though clothed with divine authority, may
give offence ; but examine it carefully, remembering with
whom you have to do.
Right is that which is conformable to the rule ivhich God
has given for the regulation of human conduct ; that con-
formity, liaving for its spring and principle the love of God,
and for its object his glory. Now, though you have acted
in some things agreeably to the revealed rule of God ; yet
WHAT HAVE I DONE? 7
has your motive been his love, and your aim his glory ? It
is quite possible to do things required by the law of God,
and yet render no acceptable obedience to that law ; for
they may be done without any respect for the law ; done
for other reasons than that God requires them ; or done
rather from fear than love. To do right, is to do what God
requires, because he requires it, at the suggestion of love,
and Avith a desire to glorify him. To do good, is to do what
is pleasing to God ; but " Avithout faith it is impossible to
please him." There are no truly good works, according to
the Scripture, but those unto which we are "■ created in
Christ Jesus." "They that are in the flesh," that is, in an
imregenerate state, " cannot please God." *' I know that in
me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing." And it
stands to reason that repentance, in the case of the sinner,
must go before all acceptable obedience, and that all good
in him must be the fruit and consequence of repentance.
In the case of the rebelling subject or child, after the first
act of rebellion and disobedience, it is all rebellion and diso-
bedience up to the moment he repents and makes his sub-
mission. So it is Avith all who rebel against God.
Well then, it appears you have done wrong, and nothing
hut wrong. You have done a great deal, and it has all
been evil. All the entries under your name, in the book of
God's remembrance, are on one side. The other side is a
blank. You will never have any thing of your own to be
entered there ; and the obedience of the great Surety is not
entered to your account, because you have not believed on
him, and with all your heart confided in him as your Surety.
So the case stands. This is what you have done. And
now,
Consider to whom you have done it — to God, the great,
blessed, and benevolent God, your Creator, Preserver, and
Benefactor. You have broken his law, which is holy, just,
8 WHAT HAVE I DONE 7
and good ; have transgressed his commandments, which are
not grievous ; and have refused to render to him that which
is your reasonable service.
Consider under what circumstances you have done it ;
circumstances of light and love ; in despite of exhortation
and command, admonition and entreaty, promise and threat-
ening, judgment and mercy ; with heaven open to allure
you, and hell uncovered to alarm you, and the cross of the
Son of God in full view before you ; you have acted wrong,
with every inducement to act right.
Consider also the evils involved in such doings, under
such circumstances ; the presumption and rebellion, the
impiety and injustice, the folly and madness, the baseness
and daring, but above all, the ingratitude of having, under
such circumstances, acted as you have acted towards God.
The ingratitude ! There never was such a case of in-
gratitude before, and I suppose there never could be another
like it. God never so loved any other Avorld as to give his
only-begotten Son to die for its inhabitants. Such good-
ness does not exist to lead other sinners to repentance.
They have no such love to despise. They have no hlood of
atonement to tread under foot. They cannot be so ungrate-
ful. The intervention of the Son of God to save rebel man,
renders his case 2'>€culiar, and will render his condition here-
after peculiar. He will rise to the highest in heaven, or
sink to the lowest in hell. He is the only sinner that ever
received a call to repent and return. God never before
sought to woo back a wandering soul to him. But for you,
0 man, he has bowed his heavens and come down. He has
sent his Son after you. And what have you done ? How
have you requited God's gift of his Son ? How have you
met the mercies of redemption ? How have you treated
Christ? Has his story interested you? Has his cross
attracted you ? Have you stopped and gone near to see
WHAT HAVE I DONE 1 9
and sympathize in those unparalleled sorrows, of which you
"were the author as well as the object ? For he, who died
for you, died also hy you. Have you ever looked on him
whom you pierced, and mourned ? Have you given to him
your heart ? and are you living now to him who died for
you ? Alas, has he not been despised and rejected of you?
Have you not passed by him, even if you have done no
more?
But some, to all else they have done, are adding this,
the last and worst they can do, the resisting and grieving of
the Holy Ghost. Art thou one of them ? They counter-
work the divine Spirit, who strives with them. God comes
on a visit of mercy to them, and whispers in the ear of the
soul, of pardon and heaven ; but they say, " Depart from
us ; we desire not the knowledge of thy ways. Who is the
Lord, that we should obey him ?" And he departs, per-
haps ; for he says, " Be instructed, O Jerusalem, lest my
soul depart from thee. My Spirit shall not always strive
with man." What then ? What is their history after that ?
I know not ; but this I know, a dark death and a deep and
desperate damnation are the subjects of the last chapter.
Sinner, there is one piece of advice that, as a friend, I
■would give you. It is, whatever you do, " Quench not the
Spirit." You may do any thing but that, and your case
not be desperate. But if you quench the Spirit, there re-
mains no hope ; there is no refuge left ; there is no fourth
person in the Godhead to undertake the case of the sinner
who has wilfully put away from him the light and fire
of the divine Spirit. Art thou grieving him ? Beware !
Another hour — another moment — and he may depart for
ever !
I have told you what you have done. Let me now urge
you to consider the consequences of having done so ; the
great guilt vou have incurred, the deep and virulent de-
vor.,. viir, '?3
10 WHAT HAVE 1 DONE 1
pravity you liave contracted, the tremendous wrath you
have treasured up for yourself, and the utter ruin you have
entailed on soul and body, for time and for eternity. In
doing what you have done, you have destroyed yourself;
you have forfeited the divine favor, and lost the divine like-
ness. The privilege and dignity of being a child and heir
of God are gone from you ; and peace is gone, and purity
is gone, and freedom, and honor, and all but just one only
hope is gone, and that is going, and unless you lay hold of
it will soon be gone, never to return. You have blasted
your prospects for eternity. You have caused a blight to
come over the beauty and fruitfulness of the soul. You
have lost all that was worth having, and have got in ex-
change nothing but what it is as much your interest as your
duty to give up.
You have done w^hat to vmdo constituted a problem that
baffled all created minds. You have done what to undo
required a special interposition from the adorable Trinity,
and from the Son of God exacted suffering the deepest and
most dreadful.
In fine, you have done, 0 sinner, so rmich that it is
necessary you should do something more. And do you ask
me what it is ? Dost thou, in view of what thou hast clone,
ask what thou must do? I am glad to hear that ques-
tion ; it indicates returning reason. I will briefly answer it.
And,
First. You must do something — you must act; you
will never be saved without your own agency. When the
jailer asked this question, did Paul and Silas say, "Do
nothing ; wait — wait God's time ?" A time, by the way,
which cannot be ivaited for, because it has come already.
It is noiv.
Secondly. What you do, you must do quicJcly. The
command of God urffes vou to immediate action. The dif-
WHAT HAVE I DONE ? H
ficulty of the work urges you. The uncertainty of life
urges you. The ever-increasing hardness of the unregen-
erate heart affords another argument for doing immediately
what you find to do. " Behold, now is the accepted time ;
behold, now is the day of salvation."
Thirdly. You cannot be saved by doing any thing
w^hich you may choose to do, aside from what God com-
mands you to do. No amount of unauthorized effort will
avail you any thing.
Fourthly. You may do many things which the word of
God approves, and even enjoins, and yet never be saved ;
for no one of them may be that specific thing to which the
promise of salvation is made.
Fifthly. There is only one thing that you can do to
secure your salvation. You will be disappointed if you
expect to be saved by doing many things. One act, one
single exercise, is the indispensable requisite to salvation.
What is it?
Sixthly. That which you do in order to he saved, is not
to make an atonement for sin, nor is it to acquire, yourself,
a title to heaven : it is not any act whereby you may make
yourself better, or recommend yourself to God. There is
nothing expiatory, meritorious, or commendatory in what
you are required to do. The object of the act is not lo
make atonement, but to receive an atonement already made.
It is not to do something for yourself, but to avail yourself
of what another has done for you.
Seventhly. It is no external act or movement that is re-
quired. It is an act of the soul — a single, confiding act of
the soul, the object of the confidence being Christ Jesus.
There are two things presupposed as necessary to this act,
viz., a sense of your need of him, and an apprehension of
his suitableness and sufficiency for you. These existing,
you have nothing to do that you may be saved, but heartily
12 WHAT HAVE I DONE ?
to trust in him. " Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and
thou shalt be saved." Exercise a confiding faith in him,
and all is done. Cease to do any thing for yourself, except
cordially to trust Christ to do every thing for you.
This is what you must do. Now do it. It is reason-
able that you should. Christ is altogether worthy of your
confidence. He is able to save, and he is willing. He
offers himself to you — he presses himself upon you. Re-
ceive him, and you are saved. Do not be confounded by
the very simplicity of the requirement. Do not say, " Can
this be all ?" I assure you it is all. And there is nothing
to be done in preparation for doing this. If you know that
you are a sinner, and believe that Chiist is a Saviour, then
as a sinner trust in that Saviour. And you can do it noio
as well as at any other time ; yea, tetter. The duty will
never be different from what it now is — ^never easier. Will
you do it noio ? Now, while God waits to be gracious, and
Jesus stands with arms extended and with open heart to
receive you ; and the blessed Spirit striveth with you ; now,
when all things are ready, and all circumstances favor;
now, in the strength of God, will you do it? What is
your decision ? It is known in heaven. It is recorded
there.
Note. — A premium of fifty dollars, offered by a friend was
awarded to the author of this Tract
IVo. ^80.
DON'T UICHAIN THE TIGER.
When an infidel production was submitted — probably
by Paine — to Benjamin Franklin, in manuscript, he returned
it to the author, with a letter, from which the following is
extracted : " I ivoidd advise you not to atteiivpt unchain-
ing THE TIGER, hut to hum tkis 2^iece before it is seen hy any
other 2^erson," "If men are so ivicJced w^ith religion, what
would they he without it?''
The doctor was once an advocate for infidelity. He
informs us that he was, in his early youth, " a perfect Deist ;
that his arguments had perverted some other young persons,
particularly Collins and Ralph. But in the sequel, when
he recollected that they had both treated him exceedingly
ill, without the smallest remorse ; when he considered the
behavior of Keith, another freethinker, and his own conduct
towards Vernon and Miss Reed, which at times gave him
great uneasiness, he was led to suspect that the doctrine,
though it might be true, was not very useful." Franklin's
Life, by Key and Mielke, pp. 76 and VV.
Youth and inexperience exposed even Franklin to be
led astray by infidel speculations ; but age and observation
convinced him, first, that they were unprofitable, and then,
that their propagation would be like the unchaining of a
tiger in a populous city. *' Think,'" said he to Paine, in a
letter to which allusion has been made, " hoio many incon-
siderate and inexperienced youth of both sexes there are, who
have need of the motives of religion to restrain them from
vice, to support their virtue, and retain them in the practice
of it till it becomes habitual.'" He traced his own aberra-
tions from the path of virtue, and the vices of the " young
persons " whom " his arguments had perverted," to the ab-
sence of religious restraints ; and when he saw the youth
of his beloved country in danger from the same cause, he
bore his solemn testimony against the rash experiment, and
entreated his reckless friend to burn the manuscript before
it should be seen by any other individual.
VOL. viir. 23*
2 DON'T UXCHALN THE TIGER.
Reader, if such a man as Franklin, after trying infidelity
himself, and carefully noticing its effects upon others, dep-
recated it as the bane of personal purity and social order
and happiness, are you willing to give it currency in our
great republic ?
Infidelity, if it prevails in this country, must be substi-
tuted for Christianity — for the religion of tlie Bible. This
religion, its enemies themselves confess, is, in its moral code,
holy, and just, and good. In its doctrine it is dignified and
glorious. In its tendency it is pure and peaceable, gentle,
and easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits,
■without partiality, and without hypocrisy. The celebrated
Montesquieu remarks, "The Christian religion, ivhich or-
dains that men should love each other, ivould without doubt
have every nation blest ivith the best -political and civil laws ;
because these, next to religion, are the greatest good that men
can give and receive.'" Spirit of Laws, London edit., vol. 1,
p. 72. The congress of 1*776, speaking of the same relig-
ion, declared that it was the " only solid basis of public
liberty and happiness f' and Gen. Washington calls it "one
of the great pillars of human happiness, and the firmest prop
of the duty of men and citizens.'' Having such a religion
as this to form the habits of our youth, to guide the coun-
cils of our statesmen, to teach our senators wisdom, and
prepare our citizens to appreciate the mild institutions of
our republic, what could we be profited by exchanging it
for deism or atheism, in any of their modifications ?
Infidehty would indeed break down our altars, and take
away our Bibles and our Sabbaths. It would shut up the
Sabbath-schools, and turn into the streets more than a mill-
ion of children, who are now taught the pure morality of
the Gospel every Sabbath-day. It would bereave the liv-
ing of his rule of life, and rob the dying of his only anti-
dote aofainst the fear of death. But what would it brino-
us in return ? Its doctrines are vague speculations, founded
neither on data nor evidence ; and in these speculations
scarcely any two are agreed. Some believe in the existence
of a God, while others deny it. Some believe in the im-
mortality of the soul, while others, with the French philos-
ophers, write over the gates of their cemeteries, "Death an
eternal sleep.''
Nor have infidels any more certainty or any better agree-
DON'T UXCHAIX THE TIGER. 3
ment among themselves, in regard to tlieir moral code, than
then- doctrinal speculations. Lord Herbert and the Earl of*
Shaftesbury thought that the light of nature would teach
all men, without the aid of revelation, to observe the mo-
rality of the Bible. Spinosa and Hobbes, two other distin-
guished infidel writers, the one believing in the existence of
a God and the other denying it, were agreed that there ivas
nothing either right or lurong iii its oivn nature ; hut that
every man has a natural right to obtain, either by force or
fraud, every thing which either his reason or his passions
prompt him to believe may he useful to himself Blount,
another freethinker, supposed that the moral law of nature
justified self-murder ; and Lord Bolingbroke, that it enjoined
polygamy, and neither ^rohihiie^A fornication, adultery, nor
incest, excep}t between 2Mrents and children.
But the vagueness and uncertainty of its doctrinal spec-
ulations, and the looseness and immorality of its rules of
life, are not the only things to be objected against infidehty.
Its tendency, wherever it has been introduced, has been
evil, and only evil.
France, at the commencement of her revolution, in 1789,
was an infidel nation. The profligacy of the Catholic priest-
hood, the demoralizing example of the Regent Duke of Or-
leans, and the infidel pubhcations of Voltaire and his asso-
ciates, had produced a contempt for religion through every
rank of society. The people were taught by their literati
that the Bible was at war with their liberties, and that they
could never expect to overturn the throne till they had
broken down the altar. Here the tiger was unchained.
The lusts and passions of men were set free from the re-
straints of Christianity, and the bloody history of that de-
voted nation should convince every man that infidelity has
done her no good, but much evil.
France needed a revolution as much as America did,
and had she engaged in it with a pious reliance upon God,
and with the hearts of her people deeply imbued with the
morality of the Bible, the scion of liberty, carried by her
honored Lafayette from this country, would have taken deep
root, and cast forth its branches ; and before this time the
fairest portion of Europe might have reposed under its
shadow. But her principles had poisoned her morals, and
her immorality disqualified her for being free ; and after
4 DON'T UNCHAIN THE TIGER.
expending an incredible amount of treasure, and sacrificing
more than two millions of men, she consented to be ruled
by a despot, in hope of some protection from herself, and
some security from the tiger which she had unchained.
Nor was infidelity in France more friendly to individual
and domestic purity and happiness than to national liberty.
Its prevalence caused such a dereliction from virtue, that
in 1801, when the rage of the revolution waS over, and the
government settled in the hands of Napoleon, the single
city of Paris reported 4,881 illegitimate births, 720 divorces,
8,258 deaths in poorhouses, and 201 found dead in the
streets. In 1803, the prefect of police reported to the
grand judges that there were, in the same city, 657 cases
of suicide, 150 of murder, 604 divorces, 155 executions,
12,076 common prostitutes, 1,552 kept mistresses, and 308
licensed brothels. Here we see the effects of infidelity
upon a refined and enlightened people. There is no other
conceiv^able cause why France is not this day a mighty and
happy republic. There was no cause why 720 wives should
be divorced from their husbands, and 4,881 daughters be-
come the wretched mothers of illegitimate children, in one
year, in a single city, but that the restraints of Christianity
were taken off from the people.
With such facts before us, let Americans decide, not
merely as Christians, but as patriots and fathers, whether
they will embrace the pure Gospel of Jesus Christ, tendered
to us from heaven, and sealed by his blood, that " whoso-
ever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlast-
ing life ;" or whether they will become accessory to the
crime of banishing the restraints of religion and a sound
morality from our mighty republic. Religion has made our
country free. It has made our sons industrious and moral ;
our daughters virtuous and happy. Under its purifying
influence, our land has become the glory of all lands. Shall
we now exchange this heavenly rehgion, which supported
our fathers in the struggle for independence, and taught
their sons how to be free, for that dark and cheerless sys-
tem, which covered with crime and deluged in blood the
only nation by which it was ever publicly embraced ?
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
Wo. 981.
THE
ALMOST CHRISTIAN
BY REV. H. A. BOARDMAN, D. D.,
PHILADELPHIA.
It is probable that the person who takes up this Tract,
will be at once reminded by its title of some one or more in
the circle of his friends, to whom the designation Almost
Christian will apply : and there are few evangelical pastors
who could not readily refer to many examples in illustration
of this subject. We speak not now of that large, undefined,
and varying class of which king Agrippa may be considered
a fit representative — men who, having grown up in infidelity
and vice, uniformly regardless of their obligations to God,
and deaf to the invitations of the Gospel, are at length, in
some favored hour, suddenly aroused from their stupidity,
and constrained, under a partial view of their ruined condi-
tion, to exclaim, " Almost thou persuadest me to be a Chris-
tian." We speak rather of those whom we think of when
we read the affecting narrative of our Saviour's interview
Avith the amiable young ruler, and those who Avere, imper-
fectly indeed, represented by the scribe to whom the assur-
ance was given, "Thou art not far from the kingdom of
God." Such persons are not unfrequently met Avith ; and
they seldom cross our path without exciting a peculiar in-
terest in their spiritual welfare. We " look upon them and
love them," as our blessed Saviour did in one of the instances
just cited ; and when we find them reluctant to exchange
the paltry riches or honors of this world for the friendship
2 THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN.
of Christ and a crown of unfading glory, we feel something
of that commiseration which h^ felt when the young man
"went away grieved" at his call of infinite love.
There are, of course, minor diversities of character
amongst the individuals to whom the name Almost Chris-
tian may in this sense be applied ; but they possess certain
prominent traits in common. The following outline exhibits
some of these characteristic features ; it is drawn from real
life ; and though it Avill doubtless require to be varied, in
order to suit particular cases, it is perhaps sufficiently defi-
nite to enable each one who reads it to determine whether
he belongs to the class of Almost Christians.
1. They are more frequently to be found in the middle
and higher walks of life, than among those whose pecuniary
circumstances have precluded them from enjoying many
intellectual and religious privileges.
2. They are usually the offspring of pious parents, or at
least members of families in which religion is sincerely re-
spected, and its leading doctiines inculcated upon the minds
of the young. This remark, however, admits of considera-
ble modification, inasmuch as many persons who have failed
of receiving this instruction in childhood, have subsequently
been brought to possess the character which we are endeav-
oring to delineate.
3. They are for the most part persons of intelligence —
many of them of highly cultivated minds, stored with the
fruits and embelhshed with the accomplishments of a hberal
education.
4. They are almost uniformly characterized by much
amiableness of temper ; and their kind and affectionate de-
meanor so wins upon the heart, that we cannot know them
without according to them the tribute of our sincere esteem.
Especially is this the case when we observe that this kind-
ness of heart prompts them to many acts of benevolence ;
and that they appear to derive much of their own enjoyment
THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN. 3
from promoting, by little offices of attention and love, the
happiness of those around them.
5. The class we speak of profess the fullest belief in the
Holy Scriptures, and approve of most of the doctrines there
revealed. They are regular attendants at the sanctuary,
and some of them are not ashamed to be seen at social
prayer-meetings. Many are Sabbath- school teachers or
members of Bible-classes. A few of them go so far as to
study the Bible with considerable diligence, and even to offer
up an occasional prayer in secret. They are not averse to
the society of Christians. Their deportment is generally
correct ; and they sometimes exhibit a degree of conscien-
tiousness which might well reprove some who are within
the pale of the church. They profess to rejoice in the
increase of revivals and in the conversion of their friends.
They freely admit that personal religion is indispensable to
the true enjoyment of this world, and that it furnishes the
only adequate preparation for eternity. They acknowledge,
however, that they have never availed themselves of the
gracious offers of the Gospel, and have no personal interest
in the great Redeemer.
Such are some of the distinguishing marks of the Almost
Christian. The sketch is indeed very imperfect. The
reader may perhaps feel that a part of the description is
applicable to his own case, while the remainder is not. His
character may be less fair and his deportment less exem-
plaiy than that here delineated : while cherishing a sincere
respect for religion, he may neglect many even of its external
duties ; and while vaguely wishing that he were a Christian,
he may have no precise views of the nature of that obedi-
ence which the holy law of God requires. But whatever
peculiarities of this kind may mark your case, allow one
who would if possible benefit your soul, aflfectionately to
solicit your serious attention to the remarks which will now
be offered with reference to the preceding statement.
4 THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN.
I. The qualities zokich have been ascribed to the Almost
Christian may, and in foxt do, coexist in his heart with
determined enmity against God. It is very important for
you to remember, that the term Almost Christian is one
devised by man, and not by God ; and that the ground of
its appHcation to you is not that of internal purity, but of
outward decency. In that discriminating classification of
mankind which the Bible makes, only two descriptions of
persons are recognized, saints and sinners, believers and
unbelievers, the holy and the unholy. It is the peculiar
trait of the former that they love God ; and, in this case,
the absence of love is aversion or hatred. " He that is not
with me," said our Saviour, " is against me ;" and " he that
loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of
me." But you do not even pretend to love God ; and as
love to God is the first and great commandment, and *' the
fulfilling of the law," it follows not only that your heart
tnay be, but must be full of enmity towards your Maker.
If it be true that the law of God is spiritual, reaching even
to the thoughts and intents of the heart, then no external
obedience can be acceptable to him w^hich is not founded
on a just apprehension of his authority and a sincere rever-
ence for it. Those acts of courtesy and kindness, therefore,
that sweetness of manner, that respect for religion, and that
rigid observance of many of its public and perhaps some of
its private duties, however commendable in themselves, are
perfectly compatible with a state of wilful and perverse
rebellion against the infinite Jehovah.
It is exceedingly difficult to convince many persons of
the truth of this assertion. They will admit, in words at
least, that the eye of Omniscience is fixed upon the heart,
and that every act must necessarily be oflPensive to him
w^hich he perceives is not prompted by an internal principle
of obedience to his righteous law. Still they are ready to
ask, whether so much decency of behavior, so many deeds
THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN. 5
of charity, and a uniform course of life so widely different
from that pursued by the great mass of the world, are at
last to come into condemnation and fail of an eternal reward.
It is obvious that a point is virtually denied in this inquiry,
which the objector a moment before conceded ; for no plau-
sibility of statement and no ingenuity of reasoning can invaH-
date the conclusion, that if God approves only of such acts
as spring from sincere love to his character and law, no acts
to which this essential quality does not belong can be ac-
ceptable to him. Let the case then be ever so strong — let
one be found who can exclaim with all the mistaken ardor
of the young ruler, and with reference to the Avhole deca-
logue, ''all these have I kept from my youth up," yet
without love to God as the foundation of his obedience, his
religion will be "as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal."
It is obvious, then, that if you are but an "Almost
Christian," you are still in the bonds of iniquity. Notwith-
standing all your amiableness, your hatred to God is yet
unsubdued. And rest assured, that where this feeling pre-
vails, there is no true virtue. There may be the semblance
of it, but there cannot be the reahty. That single mark
evinces that the whole heart is dreadfully corrupt. Noth-
ing which is good can groAv in such a soil : as well might
we expect the ground which is shaded by the deadly Upas
to produce nutritious fruit for the sustenance of man.
11. The Almost Christian is peculiarly liable to self-de-
ception. His situation is one which not only indisposes a
person to self-examination, but absolutely unfits him for
performing this essential duty with any tolerable degree of
fidelity. He furnishes perhaps the most striking illustra-
tion of the unmeasurable deceitfulness of the human heart,
which is to be found in a Christian community. There are
indeed exceptions to this remark, amongst the large class
who are designated by the term Almost Christian ; but, as
a general thing, it is believed they are miserably mistaken
VOL. VI ij. 24
6 THE ALMOST CHRISTIAX.
in regard to their true character. IN'ot by any means that
they iirmly believe themselves to be real Christians, and
much less that they express that opinion : they universally
acknowledge, when asked the question, that they have never
experienced the saving efficacy of the blood of Christ upon
their hearts. Still, it may be doubted whether they are not
self-deluded in the very act of making these confessions —
whether they are so utterly destitute of hope as they pro-
fess to be. The heart which has not been humbled and
sanctified by grace is seldom disposed to bring its excellence
to the severe tests exhibited in the Scriptures, or to view
its own deformity in the mirror of the Gospel. And it is
plain that the man who takes no pains to learn what his
true character is, will be strongly inclined to form too favor-
able an estimate of himself. Especially will this be the
case if he is conscious of possessing those amiable qualities
which secure for him general esteem, and if his hfe is stained
with few violations of those rules of honesty and sobriety
which, however improperly, are by common consent, in all
civilized countries, invested with the authority of a code of
morals.
It is hardly possible that one so situated should scruti-
nize his own heart with that impartiality which is demanded
alike by a regard to his personal safety and by the requisi-
tions of eternal justice. To imagine that he can look with-
out a sinful self-complacency on all his acts of kindness and
charity, and that he will be disposed impartially to examine
these actions and the general tenor of his life by the pure
light of revealed truth, is to suppose that he has already
been taught those lessons concerning the depravity of the
heart which are only to be learned by sitting at the feet of
Jesus Christ. Considering what human nature is, is it sur-
prising that he should be flattered, by the caresses of friends
and the concurrent approbation of all around him, into a
secret and firm, though perhaps unacknowledged belief.
THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN. 7
tliat even God himself looks down upon him with a feeling
of complacency? Such an impression is so favorable to
peace of mind, that we may presume there is a predisposi-
tion to receive it ; and it would be cherished and confirmed
by that frequent, though only half-designed comparison,
which the Almost Christian is so prone to institute between
himself and his less exemplary neighbors and associates.
Perhaps the reader has, in some honest moment, de-
tected himself in this specious kind of self-gratulation ; and
if he will but candidly examine this single act, it will open
to him the ground of that delusion which is threatening to
destroy his soul. He appeals to some other standard than
the word of God in order to determine the true character of
his actions. But of what account is it, with reference to
the retributions of eternity, how blameless your life may be
in the judgment of men, provided your heart is not right in
the sight of God ? It obviously concerns you to know how
your conduct appears in the eyes of him who is to deal
with you according to your works, and fix your everlasting
destiny at the great day of account. Every other inquiry
is totally irrelevant until this be settled. If God has sol-
emnly decreed that " without holiness no man shall see the
Lord," you are running a fearful hazard by building your
hopes of heaven on the favorable estimate which men, frail
and sinful like yourself, may form of your character. You
deny, indeed, that you are trusting to any such foundation.
You assert that nothing is further from your belief than the
opinion that your good works will wholly or partially avail
to save you. But beware of yourself. Search deeply into
your heart, and see if you do not discover, beneath all your
apparent humility and self-renunciation, an under-current
of pride and selfishness, which is silently but rapidly bear-
ing you towards the " lake which burnetii with fire and
brimstone."
Nor is the Almost Christian less erroneously deceived
8 THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN'.
in regard to his prospects of becoming pious. If he is not
actually indulging a secret hope in the mercy of God, he
flatters himself that he is approaching that point at which
sovereign grace will surely interpose for his deliverance.
He practically believes that the course he is pursuing,
though not precisely coincident with the '*' strait and nar-
row way," is gradually converging towards it, and will in
due season conduct him into it ; or else that the two paths
are so near together that, in case of any sudden calamity,
as an attact^of sickness or the like, he can step, at a mo-
ment's warning, from his own into the other. He perceives
that there is reason enough why the vicious and profane, the
sensualist and the drunkard, should be promptly arrested
in their downward career ; but why should he be alarmed
who "has been growing better and better for years?" It
is well to go and try to collect together the Israelites who
are scattered all over the desert, and in danger of 'being cut
off by their foes ; but why disturb the peace of one who is
living on the very bank of Jordan, and can at any time cross
over to the land of promise and repose ? Strange, strange
infatuation — to think that sin can tend to holiness ; that a
life of rebellion against God is qualifying a creature for
heaven ; that a heart which is daily abusing offered mercy,
and crucifying anew the Saviour, is softening rather than
hardening in its iniquity ! 0 throw off this delusion. Tear
away the veil from your eyes. Look at yourself as you are.
Believe that " he who is not with Christ, is against him ;"
that he who is not "laying up treasure in heaven," is
" treasuring up wrath against the day of wrath ;" and that
every hour you persist in impenitence, is strengthening the
fearful probability that you will at last fail of eternal life.
III. The state of the Almost Christian is one of aggra-
vated and increasiiig guilt. It has already been shown, that
with all his apparent amiableness he still cherishes bitter
enmity against God, and we shall now endeavor to prove
THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN. 9
that his sin is of no ordinary stamp. This "will be manifest,
if we examine his conduct in the light of that simple and
equitable principle of the divine administration — a principle
which we recognize in all our dealings with one another —
that " unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall much
be required." Now, according to the view which we have
taken, the Almost Christian is one to whom this maxim will
apply in all the plenitude of its meaning. He has not only
enjoyed the common bounties of Providence and the means
of grace, but he has been mercifully restrained from flagrant
sins, educated in the fear of the Lord, and taught to cherish
a sincere respect for the ordinances and interests of religion.
While thousands around him have grown up like heathens
in a Christian land, his mind has been stored with sacred
truth, he has been instructed in lessons of virtue, and pious
friends have been constantly near to impart their counsel
and to direct him in the path of duty. More than this, he
has been led by divine grace to reflect much and seriously
on eternal things ; he has been convinced of the reasonable
claims of God upon hist heart; he has been brought to
acknowledge that his course of life is irrational, sinful, and
dangerous ; he knows that there is salvation for him only
through the atoning sacrifice and righteousness of Christ,
and that unless he repent and believe in him he must inevi-
tably perish.
All this has been done for him — all this he knows — and
yet does he still persevere in resisting all the calls and mo-
tives to repentance. He looks upon Sinai : he sees its light-
nings, he hears its thunders : the law is proclaimed, and he
confesses that it is "holy, and just, and good ;" but he re-
fuses to render to it any other than a cold and formal obe-
dience. He looks upon Calvary : he beholds a scene which
filled all heaven with wonder — which made the rocks to rend,
the graves to open, and the dead to come forth ; but no
tear of penitence starts from his eye, no pang of godly sor-
VOL. VIII. 24*
10 THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN.
row thrills his heart. Thouo^h confessino- that Jesus was
the Son of God, yet he ^Yill not obey him — that he is alto-
gether lovely, yet he will not love him — that he died to
save sinners, yet he will not be saved by him. He hears
the proffer of rest to the weary and heavy-laden, but he
refuses to appropriate it to himself. He knows that there
is a "fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness," but he
will not repair to it. He believes in the assurance that
those who need, can have " Avine and milk "without money
and without price ;" but, while acknowledging his need, he
is too proud to accept the boon.
And what more coiild he do to aggravate his guilt ?
What more could be done to bring him to Christ ? From
Sabbath to Sabbath, from year to year — perhaps all the
while flattering, himself that he is drawing nearer and nearer
to the kingdom of heaven — he lives unmoved alike by jtidg-
ments and mercies. He perhaps sits side by side in the
sanctuary with some avowed, and, it may be, profligate op-
posers of religion ; and while their hearts melt under the
power of the truth, his own, as though encased in iron, but
too fatally wards off every shaft. The same afflictive prov-
idence which is the means of arresting and awakening many
of his companions, leaves no permanent impression on his
mind. He is ready, indeed, to sympathize with the bereaved,
and to alleviate their sorrows by all the kind offices of friend-
ship ; but he forgets that the stroke which has clad them,
and perhaps himself also, in mourning, was mercifully de-
signed to direct his wandering heart to the Saviour.
The writer is well aware that the opposite effects here
spoken of are, in an important sense, referable to the divine
sovereignty ; nor would he pen a single sentence which
might seem to be in the slightest degree inconsistent with
that great, and, to the Christian, most precious doctrine.
But, however that doctrine may be explained, all the guilt
which has been charged upon the Almost Christian lies
THE ALMOST CHRISTIAX. H
most justly at his door. And for proof of this, let the ap-
peal be made to his own consciousness. If such an one is
now perusing this Tract, let me ask whether a single un-
righteous allegation has been advanced against you in these
remarks ? Does not the Bible, by direct assertion or obvi-
ous implication, confirm, in your own judgment, all that has
been said respecting the true character of ^your depraved
heart ? And do you not acknowledge that the preceding
enumeration of your sins is in no other way incorrect, than as
it fails in representing fully their number and their heinous-
ness ? If this be so, then, truly,
IV. The condition of the Almost Christian is one of aw-
ful danger. It is so, because of the hardening effect of his
sins upon his heart. By his own confession, he sins against
much more light than other men, and therefore he must
make a more wilful resistance to the truth. The Gospel
is a savor of life unto life, or of death unto death, to all who
hear it. The man who rejects one solemn and pungent
appeal on the subject of his soul's salvation, is thereby forti-
fied, in a measure, against a second ; and he who rejects a
second, will be better able to resist a third ; and in this
gradual manner do multitudes so completely arm themselves
against the messages of God as to make their own destruc-
tion sure.
Again, the Almost Christian is in great danger, because,
by persisting so wilfully in impenitence, he may grieve the
Holy Spirit until he depart from him. That men are some-
times thus given over to the workings of a reprobate mind,
is a doctrine dreadful indeed to contemplate, but too plainly
taught in the Scriptures to be overlooked. It is God who
speaks in such language as the following : " My Spirit shall
not always strive with man." " Because I have called, and
ye refused ; I have stretched out my hand, and no man
regai-ded ; but ye have set at naught all my counsel, and
would none of my reproof : I also will laugh at your calam-
12 I'HE ALMOST CHRISTIAN.
ity ; I -will mock when your fear cometh." Prov. 1. " If
thou hadst known," said our blessed Saviour to Jerusalem,
even Avhile he wept over it — " if thou hadst known, even
thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto
thy peace ! but now they are hid from thine eyes." And
again, " Thou knewest not the time of thy visitation." Luke
19. Who, then, are so likely to be thus forsaken of God,
as those with whom his Spirit has been long striving ; who
have been faithfully instructed, admonished, warned, en-
treated to repent and believe in Christ ; and who, notwith-
standing the flood of light which has been shed upon their
path, and the unnumbered mercies of God, are still abusing
his goodness, and trampling on the blood of his Son ? Be-
w are, lest you provoke his WTath, and he swear that you
shall not enter into his rest.
There is still another circumstance which adds to the
danger of the Almost Christian, resulting from the gross
deception which, as we have seen, he is constantly practis-
ing upon himself. He has so long reflected on the solemn
truths of the Gospel, that he listens to them without expect-
ing them to make any deep impression on his mind. He is
not surprised to see others aff"ected even to tears under the
faithful preaching of the word, but he would look upon
himself with astonishment, should the same exhibition of
the truth excite in his own bosom any strong emotion. His
respect for religion remains undiminished, his external con-
duct is still blameless, his attendance on public worship
regular, and his conscience, perhaps, tender ; but there is a
sameness, a uniformity in his feelings, throughout successive
months and years, which may well excite painful forebod-
ings as to the end of his course. He often Avishes that he
were a Christian; but he has no wish strong enough to
carry him beyond the unvarying circuit of his daily life.
He is frequently serious ; but his seriousness never rises to
genuine conviction and abhorrence of sin. He often feels
THE ALMOST CIIRISTIAX. I3
solicitous about his soul ; but lie is never sufficiently alarmed
to make the trembling inquiry, " What must I do to be
saved?" How little prospect, then, humanly speaking, is
there that he will ever awake, in this life, to the realities of
his condition. Nor is it to be forgotten that his state is be-
coming more alarming every day. It is only in appearance
that he is stationary. He is every hour, as we have already
seen, becoming more hardened in sin, and more confirmed
in impenitence.
We appeal, therefore, to the Almost Christian, whether
he is not encompassed with dangers. It is a small matter,
that in the estimation of your own flattering heart, or of
partial friends, you may have no cause for anxiety about
your soul. Are you not still under the curse of the law ?
Is not the sword of God's justice impending over you, and
his wrath ready to burst upon your head ? Is not your
soul in dreadful peril? You are walking blindfold upon
the verge of a tremendous precipice. Death hastens on ;
the judgment-bar of your offended Saviour is just before
you ; time is bearing you rapidly along to the retributions
of eternity, and the only preparation you are making, is a
preparation for endless exclusion from the presence of God
and the joys of heaven. Are you ready for this doom ?
Can you meet it with composure ? Or does the thought of
it inspire you rather with a desire to avoid it ? Are you
disposed now to seek reconciliation with God on the terms
which he has prescribed in his "holy word? If you are, I
will endeavor briefly to point out your duty.
You need not be told that there is but one way of sal-
vation. ''Except ye repent," said our Saviour, "ye shall
all likewise perish." ''Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ,
and thou shalt be saved." Repentance and faith are as
requisite for you as they were for a Mary Magdalene or a
Saul of Tarsus ; or as they are now for the vilest wretch
who bears the form of man. You are aware that repent-
14 THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN.
ance includes godly soitow for sin, a forsaking of every
sinful habit, and a firm determination to walk with God, in
the ways of new obedience ; and that faith includes a re-
ceiving and resting on Christ alone for pardon and salvation.
It is your duty at once to renounce every other dependence,
to give up all reliance on your amiableness of temper and
exemplary conduct, as recommending you to the favor of
God, and to come humble and contrite for your sins to
Jesus Christ, Cast yourself on his mercy ; receive him as
your Saviour ; and commit your soul and all its concerns to
him, for time and for eternity. Do this noiv. You have
trifled with religion too long already. The Bible has no
promise for you beyond the present moment. It requires
immediate repentance and the immediate exercise of faith.
To all this you will probably answer, "I have often
endeavored to give myself up to Christ in the way here
described, but I have never been able to get a clear view of
my own sinfulness, nor have I felt sufficiently the burden
of sin,"
On this I would remark, first, this only evinces the
dreadful depravity of your heart. Your sins are, on your
own confession, of a highly aggravated nature, and yet you
do not feel them. But again, the Almost Christian very
frequently commits a mistake in regard to the character of
his exercises. He invariably fixes upon a high degree of
conviction of sin, as an indispensable prerequisite to his
accepting the offers of mercy. And thence his plea^ when
urged to renounce the world for Christ, miiformly is, "I do
not feel enough to take this step yet." Now, it is true, that
without the conviction of your ruin by sin, there can be no
evangelical repentance; yet, as this conviction is itself,
when real, the work of the Holy vSpirit, it is not for a worm
of the dust to declare that he will persist in rebellion
against his Maker, until he is favored with an overwhelming
view of his own depravity. Again, he should remember
THE ALMOST CHRISTIAX. 15
that many persons have more pungent convictions at various
seasons after their conversion, than they had at the precise
period of it. And again, it is well known that persons
whose character and education correspond to the descrip-
tion given in the foregoing pages of the Almost Christian, if
converted at all, are often brought into the fold of Christ
without experiencing those highly wrought exercises which
frequently attend the conviction and conversion of the aban-
doned and profligate. Still, it is evident that until you are
led by the Holy Spirit to feel, in some measure, your need
of a Saviour, you will not repair to him.
But why are you not sensible of your need now ? To
this question you have correctly replied, that you have no
just view of your own character — no clear apprehension of
the momentous truths of the holy Scriptures. Were those
truths once brought home to your heart, you could no more
remain unmoved than could Belshazzar when he beheld the
mystical hand-writing on the wall of his palace. Should
the Spirit of God apply them to your conscience with all
the directness and force of a " Thou art the man,'" you
would instantly throw aside your pride, and formality, and
unbelief, and cry out in agony of soul, " What must I do
to be saved?"
But the question still remains,' Why do you not reahze
the import of these solemn truths ? why are you still blind
to your own wickedness ? why are you not now Avithin the
ark of refuge ? Simply, mider God, because you have never
been in earnest to secure the salvation of your soul. If you
were obhged to cross a rugged mountain, you would not
expect to pass it by making weak and irregular efforts, by
alternate seasons of activity and idleness, of encouragement
and despondency. And if you expect ever to reach heaven,
no partial, unsteady, and inconstant exertions will avail.
Millions perish because there is no period at which they are
ready solemnly to vow before God, " NOW, /7'o??^ this mo-
16 THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN.
MENT, / will, in dependence on divine grace, seek supremely
the honor of Christ in the salvation of my soul and the
extension of his kingdom, and make every thing else subordi-
nate to this great end.''
Are you ready now to make this solemn consecration of
yourself to God ? If so, do it on your bended knees, in
his immediate presence. And once done, let there be no
shrinking back — no misgiving. " Remember Lot's wife."
Having put your hand to the plough, one look behind may
cost you a crown of glory. The world will tempt you —
friends may ridicule you. Regard them not. Let all the
energies of your mind be devoted to the great question at
issue between your soul and your Maker. Separate your-
self, as far as possible, from ensnaring company ; let not the
perplexities of business draw your heart away from God ;
banish every thing which might distract your attention.
Reflect on the merciful providences which have marked
your history, and let these excite your gratitude. Above
all, look to the bleeding Saviour. Think of his agony in
the garden — his bloody sweat — his crown of thorns — his
piercing cry, *'My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken
me ?" — his pouring out his soul an offering for sin, that
"whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have
everlasting life." Implore the Holy Spirit to take of the
things of Christ and show them unto you ; to sanctify you ;
to strengthen you in duty. He will give you the victory over
every spiritual adversary, preserve you to the end, and
"present you faultless before the presence of his glory
with exceeding joy."
T¥o. S8!3,
DAVID BALDWIN;
THE MILLER'S SON
The father of the youth who forms the subject of this
narrative, is a respectable miller in the county of Kings, Long
Island. He has for several years occupied one of those nu-
merous mills moved by the tide waters of the ocean, which
stand along the bays indenting the south-western shore. The
wide expanse which these locations present to the eye, the
tumultuous roarings of the ocean, with the occasional terror
and majesty of the storm, are calculated to give a philosoph-
ical, if not a religious turn to the reflecting mind.
David Baldwin, who died April 5, 1833, aged 22, was
brought up at one of these mills. His opportunity for edu-
cation was only that of a common school. But breaking
VOL. viii. 25
2 DAVID BALDWIN ; OR,
through the disadvantages of his situation, he made very
respectable attainments. With the exception of the Latin
and Greek languages, he surpassed in general knowledge
most of the youth who issue from our collegiate institu-
tions. The powers of his mind were of the first order.
Strongly intellectual, he was able to grapple with any sub-
ject to which his attention was given. In the accomplish-
ment of his purposes he was unbending, and immovably
tenacious of the opinions he embraced ; nevertheless he
was kind and condescending in his feelings, sober, quiet,
and industrious in his habits.
The constant resort to his father's mill by the inhabit-
ants of the adjacent country, rendered it a position ex-
tremely favorable for exerting an extensive influence ; but
most unhappily, as it appeared to us, for the interests of
religion and for the souls of many who admired his talents,
he embraced that system of opinions which regards the
Bible as a fable, and Jesus Christ, our blessed Saviour, as
an impostor. These sentiments absorbed his whole mind,
and completely warped his understanding, in other respects
remarkably good ; he became thoroughly versed in the
Avhole system of infidelity ; he knew all the objections and
arguments which for two hundred years infidels have been
using against the Bible. Over these he pored by night
and by day ; he knew which were strong and which were
weak. Indeed, it is rare to find a Christian more thought-
ful, or one who studies his Bible with so much care as he
studied the arguments and objections which infidels have
brought against it.
How long since he embraced these sentiments we are
unable to say. Some time since, passing from his father's
house after conversing with the family, I perceived him
standing at a little distance by himself, and stepping aside,
addressed a few words to him on the subject of religion.
THE MILLER'S SON. 3
He immediately replied, that his views on that subject
were very different from mine.
As time and circumstances did not then admit of dis-
cussion, and knowing his vigorous powers and unyielding
nature too well to believe that he would surrender his opin-
ions without an effort, I requested an interview with him
at some future day. To this he assented.
Having an errand soon after to the mill, I found him
alone, and then, with no other ear to hear than the ear of
Jehovah himself, and no other eye upon us than that which
searches the heart, our discussions commenced. These
were continued in the same place from time to time for
several months, until we had travelled, step by step, over
the whole system of infidelity.
Hume's argument, alleging that miracles were not sus-
ceptible of proof, he seemed to regard as his strong hold.
After I had thought its sophistry, its want of philosoph-
ical soundness, even in its first principles, had been clearly
exposed, he would still cling to it with a pertinacity plainly
showing it to be a cherished favorite.
At one time, while earnestly engaged upon the external
evidences of divine revelation, he remarked with energy,
that he would not believe the Bible to be the inspired word
of God even if there were external evidence sufficient to
sustain it.
" Why not ?" I inquired.
" The matters contained in it, and recorded as facts,"
he replied, " are so unreasonable, so inconsistent, so fool-
ish, and so much at issue with all our ideas of truth and
propriety, that no man unblinded by superstition or preju-
dice can possibly believe them."
"What are these facts?" I asked; "will you name
some of them ?"
He mentioned several, but soon fastened upon the con-
4 DAVID BALDWIN ; OR,
version of Saul of Tarsus, showing by his comments that
he viewed it as the most extravagant of them aU.
I rephed, that it was a fact as well attested as any other
fact in history, and although there was something unusual
in the occurrence, there was certainly nothing unreason-
able. As you acknowledge God to be the creator of the
human soul, there can be nothing unreasonable in saying
that he has power to renew or change that which he had
power to form. If he fashioned it once, he must surely
have power to fashion it again, or turn it whithersoever
he will.
Here he reverted immediately to the doctrines of Hume,
saying that such a conversion must be a miracle, and mira-
cles were not susceptible of human proof.
In one of those excursions I was frequently making to
the mill, the weather was extremely boisterous ; the roads
were filled with mud, and ice, and snow ; a blackening train
of crows were beating in the adverse winds above, whilst
endeavoring to make their way from the adjacent island to
the main ; every thing around was calculated to fill the
mind with gloom. When I arrived, I said to my young
friend, with a serious air, " I was thinking, as I came along,
what a gloomy world this is. It appears to be so full of
difficulty and trouble, I had concluded that, if your views
were correct, it would be much better for us to administer
to each other a portion of some fatal drug that would lay
us asleep for ever : it will only be a sleep, you say, and
why not sleep at once ? After we have struggled through
difficulty and sorrow for years, you tell us it will only be a
sleep at last : if so, I can see no reason for continuing the
struggle any longer."
When he recovered from the first emotions of surprise,
he replied, " We must take the bitter with the sweet."
** But the sweet is of short duration, the bitter seems
THE MILLER'S SON. 5
to constitute by far the largest portion of the cup," I con-
tinued.
Seeing to what conclusion it must inevitably come, he
adroitly returned the question, saying, ''Will you please to
tell me first what sustains you ?"
"Hope," I immediately replied — "the hope of bless-
edness to come sustains us ; btit you have no hope, you are
constantly looking into the earth as the end of your being :
on your principles you can hope for no higher destiny than
that which pertains to the mere animal creation ; but we
think our present afflictions are not worthy to be compared
with the glory to be revealed."
At another time I asked him what advantage the world
would gain, should these principles be universally embrac-
ed. They produce no hope, but take away many whole-
some restraints. Taking away the Bible would be lifting
the floodofates of vice.
" I know it," said he ; "the world is not yet sufficiently
philosophical to endure the change."
"Unless," said I, "the fountain of vice in the heart is
dried up by the operations of that Eternal Spirit whom the
Bible reveals, I fear these days of philosophical liberty can
never arrive."
On another occasion, whilst deeply occupied upon this
all-absorbing subject, I asked him if infidels ever prayed.
He said " he thought not ; he never knew one that did,
nor had he ever heard of an instance."
"Are infidels, then, independent of their Maker?"
He replied, "No."
" Is it not then unreasonable, is it not contrary to the
common sense of mankind, that dependent creatures should
never thank that Being on whom they always depend?
What would you say to see a poor suffering fellow-creature
by the wayside, ready to perish, and a man of wealth and
VOL. VIII. 25*
6 DAVID BALDWIN ; OR,
benevolence passing by, touched with compassion, kindly-
supplying his wants — what would you say to see him re-
ceive the gift, and turn away with dumb sullenness from
the kind giver ?"
" I would say he was ungrateful, he ought to thank his
benefactor," he replied.
" What would the common sense of mankind say ?"
*' It would say so too. But," continued he, " the case
is not parallel ; our thanks can add nothing to the glory of
the Almighty, he is so far above us."
" Neither could the thanks of the miserable being add
any thing to the wealth or respectability of his kind bene-
factor. But what is duty ? And now, David, I wish to ask
you a particular question, and I know your integrity too
well to believe you will deceive me in the answer. Do you
ever pray ?"
After some hesitation, his countenance at the same time
betraying the emotions within, he answered, " No, I do not
pray."
"Then I think reason must decide that that religion
which leads the soul to God must be right, while that
which leads it away from the Source of all good must cer-
tainly be wrong."
I placed in his hands Faber's Difficulties of Infidelity,
Leslie's Short Method with the Deists, etc. Paley's Evi-
dences of a Divine Revelation he told me he had read.
But, after all that had passed between us, the details of
which, if written out, would fill a large volume, he still
remained inflexibly firm. He appeared to be as immovable
as the man who had placed his foundation upon a rock.
Believing further discussion unprofitable, I told him it
must be left to aflSiction and death to test the truth and
value of our respective principles ; and here we ceased to
agitate the question.
THE MILLER'S SON.
In the meantime a disease with which he had been af-
flicted increased, and finally assumed the consumptive form.
He was constrained to relinquish business, and was soon
entirely confined to the house.
During his confinement I called several times to see him,
inquired after his health, and conversed with him respect-
ing every thing else than that which held the deepest place
in my heart. From a few hints which he inadvertently
dropped in the course of these conversations, I perceived
that his views were unchanged.
As the spring advanced his disease made alarming
strides, he was thrown upon the bed, and all hope of re-
covery was given up. He had been one week in this sit-
uation when I called on him.
On entering the room I readily perceived that the hand
of the last enemy was upon him, and taking my seat by the
side of his bed, I affectionately inquired how he was.
Said he, " I am fast sinking ; it is impossible that I
should recover ; but I am resigned to my fate, or to the
disposal of the great God of nature.'*
I observed, " that resignation was good under such cir-
cumstances, if it were well founded ; but in order to have
any thing valuable in it, it must rest upon some sure foun-
dation. A resignation founded upon the word of God, the
hopes and promises of the Gospel, must surely be good for
a dying man ; but if you cast away the Bible, your resig-
nation rests upon nothing but your own carnal reasonings
or vain imaginations."
"Every man has his opinion," said he; "the Moham-
medan has his opinion, the Jew has his, you have yours,
and I have mine."
" That may be," I replied, " but still it does not make
all our opinions equally wise or safe. As these opinions
are contrary to each other, some of them must be wrong :
8 DAVJl) r.ALDU'IX; OR,
and now, if yours are right, David, all the rest of us are
just as safe as you are ; but if yours are wrong, 0 how
awful the thought ! What a mighty difference death must
make between you and us."
" Hush, hush !" he exclaimed with vehemence, averting
his face to the opposite side of the room, his whole system
at the same time becoming greatly agitated.
His anxious mother, agonizing for the salvation of her
son, cried, "David, David, why will you do so?"
Turning again, he replied to his mother, " What else
can I say ? I am too weak to listen to such things now."
Waitinfy until his feelino-s had in some measure sub-
sided, I said, " David, this is not weakness, it is conscience ;
I have often seen Christians much weaker than, you are,
converse for a whole hour upon the promises and the hopes
of the Gospel ; I have seen them contemplate with delight
the glory hereafter to be revealed : but you seem to be
easily disturbed ; you appear to have but little confidence
in your own system ; it does not bring you any comfort in
the prospect of death."
''Trouble me no more," said he; ''you could not con-
vince me when I was well, it is in vain to think of doing it
now I am sick : do not come here to disturb a dying man ;
let me die in peace."
I told him "I had not come to argue, I had come to
preach Christ and him crucified, the only way of life, the
only hope of a resurrection from the dead and eternal bless-
edness beyond the grave. I have not come because I am
desirous of giving you pain ; I came to seek your eternal
good. I never have felt any thing but kindness towards
you ; in all our arguments you never saw me manifest any
other feeling."
" That is so," said he, " I never did."
" And now, David, with regard to your dying in peace.
THE MILLER'S SON. 9
that cannot be. For you to die in peace, as you now are,
is utterly impossible. There can be no peace, saith my
God, to the wicked."
" You ought to have charity," said he, with emotion ;
" it is a poor religion that does not produce charity."
"I would most gladly have charity for you if I could,"
I replied ; " but I cannot have it ; my Bible will not permit
me to have it : my Bible declares, ' he that believeth shall
be saved, but he that believeth not shall be damned.' "
"That is hard," said he.
I continued my discourse, saying to him, *' I would take
great pleasure in administering comfort, if it were in my
power so to do ; but I know of no way in which a minister
of Christ can comfort a dying man but by presenting the
consolations of the Gospel. These, David, you have cast
away — you have cast away the Saviour, and trampled the
blood of the covenant beneath your feet. How can I com-
fort you? Strong as is my desire to do so, you place it
entirely beyond my power to offer you one drop of conso-
lation."
"I hope then," said he, ''you will not distress me."
Perceiving his feelings much agitated, I desisted. Af-
ter pausing until he was somewhat composed again, I said,
" David, shall I pray with you ?"
He hesitated for a moment, and then answered, " No.
The great God of nature cannot be changed by man's pray-
ers. He is immutable."
"Nevertheless," said I, "he has declared himself to be
the hearer of prayer and the rewarder of those who dili-
gently seek him. He has said, they that seek shall find —
they that ask shall receive — and unto them that knock it
shall be opened."
"You may think so," said he, "but I think otherwise."
After another considerable pause, in which not a word
10 DAVID BALDWIN; OR,
was spoken by any person in the room, nor any thing heard
but the sighs occasioned by a mother's and a sister's an-
guish, I said to him, " David, I must now take my leave of
you. But shall I ever come to see you again ?"
He looked earnestly in my face, and with an expression
of kindness, he slowly said, " If you will come and see me
as a friend."
" Then you do not Avish to see me as a minister of the
Gospel?"
He answered distinctly, " No."
"But seeing I sustain that office," I replied, "I cannot
reconcile it with my sense of duty to visit a dying man
without presenting the only hope God hath provided for
the dying. If I come to see you, I must preach Christ and
him crucified." So saying, with painful emotions I bade
him adieu.
On retiring, his mother requested me to pray with the
family and the friends who were present in the adjoining
room, to which I readily assented. And when she had set
his door open, we lifted up our souls in earnest supplica-
tion to that God who has the hearts of all in his hands,
and is able to turn them whithersoever he will. It was a
moment of indescribable solemnity. A son — a brother — a
beloved and admired friend, was about to take his flight
to the world of spirits, unreconciled to God, at enmity with
Jesus Christ, accounting even his precious saving blood as
an unholy and a hateful thing. We earnestly besought the
Lord to have mercy on his soul — to scatter the delusions
of Satan — to subdue his enmity — to give him light, and to
give him life.
After prayer I took my leave of the family and deeply
afflicted parents, promising soon to return, for I was still
unwilling to give him over as lost, whilst any portion of his
day of grace appeared to remain. Returning home, I pon-
THE MILLER'S SON. H
^ dered upon all that had past. I felt exceedingly pained
and disappointed at what I had witnessed, and said to my-
self, " 0 who hath believed our report, and to whom is the
arm of the Lord revealed ? Is the Lord's arm shortened,
that it cannot save ; or his ear heavy, that it cannot hear?"
A little after sundown the same day I was surprised at
the reception of a note from a member of the family, re-
questing my immediate attendance. I readily obeyed the
call. David was very desirous of seeing me, and in a few
minutes I was there.
When I came in, his father said, " David has been
exceedingly distressed since you were here. I perceived,
during the day, that he rolled and tossed from side to side,
groaning as if in the greatest anguish, and I said to him,
* David, what is the matter ?' ' O,' said he, ' I have no
pain of body, but I have such awful distress and agony of
soul.' Was this distress occasioned by the conversation this
morning? '0, yes,' said he; 'I once thought I could die
in peace, but now I find I cannot.' To his mother he after-
wards said, '0 what a poor prodigal I have been! Can
you not pray for me, mother ? Will you not pray for me ?'
He also requested us to send for you, which we immedi-
ately did."
When I entered his room he looked up in my face and
said, " I have been deeply distressed since you were here
this morning."
"What has given you so much trouble?" I affection-
ately inquired.
"O," said he, "that question respecting the Saviour."
" Then you begin to lose confidence in the opinions you
have embraced?"
" Yes," he replied, " they bring no comfort to the soul ;
they do not sustain me. A Saviour is necessary. Is there
salvation for me ?"
12 DAVID BALDVVlx\ ; OR,
I answered in the aflfirmative, and began at once to pre-
sent the fuhiess and the freeness of the gospel offer, and to
exhibit the abiUty and willingness of our Lord Jesus Christ
to save sinners, even the chief. For this purpose I recited
many passages of Scripture, such as, " Ho, every one that
thirsteth" — "Come, and let us reason together" — "Let
the wicked forsake his Avay " — "He that believeth shall be
saved " — " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt
be saved." Li order to give him a view of the nature of
Christ's substitution in the room and stead of sinners, the
only means by which w^e can be delivered from the burden
and condemnation of sin, I read and expounded, as far as
time w^ould permit, the fifty -third of Isaiah, and also the
fifth chapter of Paul's Epistle to the Romans. He listened
attentively to all that was said. Like the new-born babe,
he seemed to desire the sincere milk of the word, to be
entirely subdued and humbled in spirit ; and when I con-
cluded, he said w^ith emphasis,
" These are comforting truths."
" But w^ill you believe them ?" I inquired.
*' 0 yes, I will try to believe them."
I then asked if 1 should pray with him.
" Most certainly," he replied, " I should be glad to have
you do so."
We then united in prayer around his dying bed with
feelings widely different from those we had experienced in
the morning. AYe thanked the Lord for his mercy and
compassion to the children of men. We earnestly besought
him that the good work, which we trusted was begun, might
be carried on to perfection ; that the youth before us might
be made a rich trophy of God's free, adorable, and match-
less grace.
At the close of the prayer he said aloud, " Amen, so
let it be."
THE IVULLER'S SON. 13
When I came again on the following morning, as he had
desired me to do, the family told me he had requested his
sister to be called before day to read the Scriptures for
him, and that he himself had engaged in prayer. To my
inquiries respecting the state of his mind, he said,
"There is one thought that particularly troubles me.
I have rejected Christ — I fear Christ will reject me."
I continued, as I had done the preceding evening, to
present Christ in all his fulness — his willingness and his
sufficiency to save. I read and remarked upon several pas-
sages of Scripture. He seemed to catch every word with
eagerness. He complained of no weakness — no fatigue.
He did not seem to droop or grow weary. The infirmities
of the body appeared to be forgotten in his eagerness to
gain the bread of life for his soul.
When I had concluded, he said, " I have endeavored to
cast myself entirely on the mercy of God, as manifested in
Jesus Christ. I can trust to no other."
After prayer to the throne of grace, which he closed as
before, by saying Amen, I left him.
The next time I came to see him, he said, " I am hke
Saul of Tarsus. The scales have fallen from my eyes ; I
can now understand by experience what that conversion
means ; I can now see what before was involved in dark-
ness. I feel that Jesus Christ is precious. How could I
have died with my former views, and without an interest
in Christ ? It is painful to think of." He seemed now to
regard the principles of infidelity with the deepest abhor-
rence, and to look with wonder and gratitude at the fearful
gulf from which he had escaped.
I inquired if his former views had ever given him peace
or comfort.
He replied, " Not any. I have tried hard to extract
comfort from them, but I could never obtain it." He then
VOL. Yin. 26
14 DAVID BALDWIN ; OR,
related to me a long conversation which he had held that
morning with a neighbor, for whom he had sent, and who
had for some time past entertained similar views with him-
self. ''I told him," said he, "that the philosophy we had
been cherishinor could not sustain the soul ; it could not
stand the test of death. I have had to abandon it, and if
ever you die happy, you must abandon it also."
I observed to him " that there were a great many who
professed to adhere to infidel principles in this place, and
if my life is spared, I shall most probably have an oppor-
tunity of addressing them. What shall I say to them from
you?"
" Tell them," said he, " that philosophy will not sustain
the soul in the prospect of death — it contains no support
for the dying man ; that now is the time to give it up, and
to become reconciled to God through Jesus Christ. Whilst
my life remains, I will do what I can to correct the evil
myself."
On quitting the room his mother told me that he exact-
ed a solemn promise from her that she would burn all his
infidel books, so that no other person might be poisoned by
them in the manner he had been.
Contrary to the expectation of all, he continued eleven
days from the time this extraordinary change took place.
During this time he was seen by many individuals, and to
all who conversed with him he gave the most decisive evi-
dence of a change of heart and a precious work of grace
wrought in the soul. All the exercises of his mind seemed
to be of a highly devotional character. He kept his sister
constantly employed in reading the sacred Scriptures. In
the Psalms of David he greatly delighted, saying at the
same time that all the rest of the Bible was good.
After a portion of Scripture was read to him in the
morning, he would engage in prayer for himself and the
THE MILLER'S SOX. 15
family. He delighted greatly in this duty. After long
conversation with his physician respecting his former and
his present views of the Christian religion, he requested
him to pray. At the close of the prayer, he said with
emphasis, ''What a blessed privilege Christians enjoy, in
offering up the desires of their hearts to God in behalf of
poor sinful worms of the dust !"
He continued in the manifestation of hope and confi-
dence in the Redeemer until he breathed out his soul, as
we trust, in the Lord Jesus Christ, and ascended to those
regions of light and blessedness whence all errors and delu-
sions will be for ever excluded.
From this simple narrative the reader cannot fail to per-
ceive how utterly unstable the strongest human foundation
becomes in the hour of trial. With judgment and eternity
in view, it becomes as movable as the sand swept away by
the flood. No foundation will stand the test or give com-
fort to the soul but that which God has laid. That foun-
dation has stood the test of ages. No one resting thereon
ever found himself disappointed, or said at last he was
deceived. The nearer they have approached the fearful
crisis, the more confidence they have felt in the truth of
God and the saving efficacy of his precious Son. When
that awful hour draws nigh, so far from requirino- their
Bibles to be burnt as delusive books, their Bibles become
more dear to their souls. When the world recedes, when
flesh faints and the heart fails, they look up with confi-
dence to Him who hath promised to be the strength of their
hearts, and their portion for ever. Thousands in all ages,
trusting in Christ, have died thus. They have met that,
which has always been the king of terrors to the wicked,
with calm composure, holy joy, triumphant faith, singing
victory even amid the throes of death.
But take away the Lord Jesus Christ, the only name
16 DAVID BALDWIN ; OR, THE MILLER'S gON.
given under heaven whereby we can be saved, and what is
left to bear up the soul ? When the sorrows of death en-
compass it, and the pains of hell begin to take hold upon
it, what can sustain it ? Can the force of human reason, or
the value of human merit ? Ah, no. Had it been in the
power of human reason or human merit to do so, our young
friend would have been amply sustained. His intellectual
perceptions were strong and clear — his mind was enlarged —
the habits of his life were irreproachable — his industry ex-
tracted all the sweets which the system of infidelity con-
tained, and yet he freely confessed that he never experienced
peace until he found it in Jesus Christ.
In view of these facts, why will men indulge such a
delusive hope ? The language this youth employed to those
whom he called to his dying bed was, '' Give it up. If you
would escape the sufferings and anguish I have endured,
give it up." And if any reader is cherishing this awful
delusion, we would say. Give it up. If you would escape
that tremendous gulf into which all the unbelieving will be
cast — if you would gain an inheritance in that kingdom into
which all the faithful of God shall be ultimately gathered,
give it up and embrace the Lord Jesus Christ, as he is
freely offered to you in the Gospel.
i\o. 983.
ALARM TO THE CARELESS.
Indifference to religion in a rational being cannot but
excite surprise and occasion grief in every serious mind.
Religion is an infinite reality ; the Gospel is worthy of all
acceptation ; its claims are high and paramount to every
other ; and we cannot but know that in an unexpected mo-
ment we may be called to give an account of the deeds
done in the body. And can any be found in these circum-
stances indifferent to their highest interests ? What can be
said to one who cares for none of these things which the
infinite God has revealed, into which the angels desire to
look, which are not vain — either doubtful or unimportant —
but of unutterable value, and will stand when heaven and
earth shall pass away ?
I entreat your serious attention while I present some
reasons loluj you ought to be alarmed.
1. The fact that you are careless is ground of alarm. It
is evidence that you do not reflect upon God. One hour's
solemn meditation upon his omniscience, his purity and
righteousness, would break up your apathy. Did you think
of your relation to him, his goodness to you, your obliga-
tions to him, you could not be at ease. Ought you not to
be troubled that you are surrounded by Jehovah, every
moment liable to be summoned to his bar, and still indiffer-
ent— asleep in your sins ? Your carelessness is evidence
that you are ignorant of your true condition in the sight of
God ; for who that realizes the guilt of transgression, the
holy nature and fearful penalty of the law, and feels that
he has broken that law and incurred that penalty, will not
tremble ? There is something truly awful in false security,
where the danger is real and great. Who does not pity
the poor victim of intemperance, who has just passed the
line that decided his character as a drunkard? He still
cries. There is no danger. He dreams of happiness and
respectability while the hand of death is upon him; his
VOL. VIII. 26*
2 alar:m to the careless.
fancied security is the most alarming symptom : could he
feel his danger, there would be hope ; but this he luill not
see, and his indifference is the touch of death.
Who that had seen the prodigal amid his cups and rev-
els, reckless of his approaching ruin, would not have wept
over his guilty thoughtlessness ? If just then he had been
admonished of his danger, he would doubtless have replied
in anger, as the sinner often does, " Your sympathy is un-
called for ; my resources are not exhausted, nor do I intend
to become the slave of indulgence ; an occasional liberty
may be taken without hazard." Ah, how little did he know
of the wiles of the destroyer ! He was then undone, but
he had not yet come to himself to see it.
And such is your condition, careless sinner, but you
know it not. A disease is upon your soul ; it has penetrated'
your nature through ; and yet you are whole in your own
estimation, and need not a physician. Your very apathy is
the darkest symptom.
You are condemned — the sentence of death lies against
you — and yet you feel secure. Just in proportion to the
character of the sentence, the nearness and certainty of its
execution, is the fearfulness of your indifference. If it were
a temporal loss it could be borne, apathy would not be so
appalling : but when we remember that the sentence against
you is eternal death ; that God is the Judge who pronounced
it ; that this very night your soul may be required, we know
not how to express our sense of the criminality of such
carelessness.
2. Another reason of alarm is, that this indifference in-
dicates a state of mind in which every blessing is abused,
every warning neglected. The sinner's heart is represented
by the barren heath which knoweth not when good cometh ;
which receives the sweet showers of heaven, but makes no
return. While this apath}'- remains, the goodness of God
may be lavished upon you, the blessings of Providence may
fall around you, the kindness and love of God our Saviour
may be shown you, and no gratitude spring up in your
heart. Should it not trouble you to have such a heart ? Is
not such a state of mind truly deplorable ? A habit of body
that would render every thing received for nourishment or
for medicine perfectly useless would be dreadful ; what
then must be that moral disease which leads men to pervert
ALARM TO THE CARELESS. 3
every gift, to turn away from every overture, to resist every
motive ? Every prayer you hear leaves you far from God ;
every chapter of the Bible read is without effect ; every
sermon you hear, every funeral you attend, leaves you still
in love with the world. Thus all the means which a mer-
ciful God employs, accomplish nothing for your highest
good ; and this because you are careless.
3. You ought to be troubled when you reflect what it
is you are careless about — salvation. The man indifferent
about his health is unwise enough ; the man regardless of
his temporal interests can expect little commiseration ; what
then shall be said of him who by neglect hazards the sal-
vation of his soul? You are now on trial for eternity.
Christ has died that you might live — salvation is offered in
his name — indifference is unbelief. In an hour you think
not you may be called to your account ; by mere neglect
you may lose heaven ; eternal death is the fruit of a careless
life, and this you may incur before to-morrow. What in-
fatuation, thus to expose immortal interests when nothing
is to be gained. 0, ye careless, awake from sleep ; you
have too much at stake thus to slumber. If you would but
pause, you could not fail to see the inconsistency of being
so eager after the vanities of this Avorld, while you are neg-
ligent of the realities of the world to come ; of being so
intent upon the acquisition of wealth that may take to itself
wings and fly away, while you are indifferent about the true
riches ; of grasping after momentary honor, while you let
go immortal glory,
4. Another cause of alarm is the exposure of your pres-
ent condition. Neglect of the Gospel insures destruction.
"How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation?"
Many think, if they escape those outbreaking sins which
bring ruin upon men in this world, they are in no danger of
the fearful gulf ; but this is a fatal mistake. Careless sin-
ner, if you had never uttered a falsehood, injured a neigh-
bor, or stained your hands with a single trespass against
society, you would still be in the gall of bitterness ; your
apathy is a crime for which no morality can atone. You
have never thought enough of God to love him, or of Christ
to follow him. Were you to die in your present state, your
ahenation of heart, your indifference to religion would ex-
clude you from the kingdom of God. Nor Avould there be
4 alar:.i tu the careles;?.
any thing arbitrary in this. A heart insensible to the claims
of the Gospel, and unmoved by the affecting scenes of Cal-
vary, in such a world of ruin as this, surely is not meet for
the inheritance of the saints. Were you, therefore, not to
commit another sin, were you to remain stationary as to
moral character, you must be lost. By all that is heart-
rending in the idea of banishment from God, in the thought
of lying down in everlasting sorrow, I would arouse you to
reflection, and entreat you to lay these things to heart.
5. Another consideration is, no more ijowerful means
will he employed to awaken you to the concerns of your soul.
Consider what God has done to induce you to seek him.
His words are full of emphasis, calculated to seal up every
mouth and sweep away every excuse : '* What could have
been done to my vineyard that I have not done ? Hoav often
would I have gathered you, and ye would not." That you
might know God, his works have been spread out before
you ; that you might early serve him, parents and teachers
have instructed you from the first dawn of moral being ;
that you might be convinced of sin, the piercing light of the
law has shined into your heart ; its high and holy precepts
have been placed beside your conduct, that you might mark
your deficiency ; that you might escape the wrath of God,
the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world has been
set forth as the propitiation for sin. Ministei-s have preached,
Christian friends have entreated, the Holy Spirit has been
sent to \dsit your heart, and still you are careless about the
most solemn subject in the universe. Are you waiting to
be moved ? There is enough now bearing upon you to ex-
cite half the heathen world. The presence of one mission-
ary moves all Burmah. The heathen have heard that
there is an eternal hell, and they are afraid ; but you sit
unmoved. They have learned that there is an eternal God,
and they desire to know him ; but you say. Depart from
us, we desire not a knowledge of thy ways. They ask for
Tracts, while some here Avill not receive them into their
houses. They regard with unspeakable interest a servant
of Jesus Christ, and will take a three months' journey to
enjoy the privilege of listening to his words ; while you Avill
suffer him to stand and stretch forth his hands without
heeding his message. Ah, the poor heathen will rise up in
the judgment and condemn you.
ALARM TO THE CARELESS. 5
0, ye careless ones, what shall be done to distm-b your
deep slumbers ? If one rising from the dead would not
make those hear who had Moses and the prophets, what
neio thing, or solemn thing, shall be said to those who, in
addition, have Christ and the apostles ? There is every
reason to fear you will still sleep on. The fact that you are
on the slippery brink of ruin, on the sides of a volcano ready
to burst forth, does not alarm you ; the fact that God
stoops to warn you, and that he will not send another Gos-
pel, or make another display of his love before you, excites
no interest. We are ready to exclaim with the prophet,
" 0 that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of
tears, that I might weep day and night " over the stupidity
of sinners.
6. This carelessness is increased hy indulgence, and co7i-
firmed hy habit. A long process of hardening the heart is
gone through with, before such a state of perfect apathy is
reached. What saith the Scripture ? " Can the Ethiopian
change his skin, or the leopard his spots ? Then may ye
also do good, that are accustomed to do evil." A deceived
heart turns the sinner aside, so that he cannot deliver his
soul, nor say. Is there not a lie in my right hand ? A state
of indifference, induced by the habit of neglecting the Gos-
pel for years, will not be easily broken up. Novelty, which
is a powerful auxiliaiy to truth, is lost upon such. If the
mighty works which Christ wrought in Chorazin and Beth-
saida, but which lost their effect by repetition, had been
done in Tyre and Sidon — heathen cities — the first impres-
sion of such stupendous power had struck every mind —
they 2oould have repented. And if the same truths which
sinners hardened under the Gospel reject, were delivered in
the name of Christ to many in the waste places of the earth,
they would doubtless turn to the Lord.
This indifference of which God complains is voluntary.
Go thy way, said Felix to Paul ; when I have a convenient
season I will call for thee. He made his seriousness yield
to his convenience. Who will say he was under a necessity
to dismiss the apostle ? He says no such thing. He might
have taken a different course ; and so might you have done,
careless reader ; for you were not always as indifferent as
you now are. When eternal things were pressed upon your
regard, when the truth of God was felt, or a solemn provi-
6 ALAllM TO THE CARELESS.
dence filled you with seriousness, wlien you Avere agitating
the question whether you should arise and go to your Father
with the prodigal's confession, who will say that an iron
necessity bound you to the fatal course you took ? What
but a perverse will led you to dismiss your fears, to aban-
don your closet, to forsake the meeting for social prayer, to
prefer the world ? Ah, you must know that you acted de-
liberately ; you would not come to Christ that you might
have life ; and now, if you die in your sins, if the Spirit of
God never again awaken you, if you are left to the sleep of
spiritual and eternal death, it will be for ever true that God
called, and you refused ; that he knocked at your heart, and
you would not open to him ; that he stretched out his hand,
and you would not regard him ; that he sent his ministers
to beseech you to be reconciled, and that you hated know-
ledge, and despised all his reproofs.
7. Another reason why you should be troubled is, this
carelessness is a state of mind that 'p'^ovokes God to with-
draio his Spirit. This indifference springs from deep de-
pravity ; it is deeply criminal. If the heart were not de-
ceitful above all things and desperately wicked, men would
not be so insensible to divine things. In heaven there is no
apathy ; there ought to be none on earth. The truths of
God possess sufficient interest to excite every sensibility, to
awaken every power. Must it not offend the Author of this
record, to say that he has failed to reveal himself in a way
to interest his creatures ? They can be interested ; a ro-
mance, a fictitious scene, a work of the imagination can hold
them waking till midnight, while the Gospel is nodded over,
or wholly neglected. Ah, the cause is not in the inspired
record, but in the heart ; it is ** enmity against God." Men
reject Christ, '* because their deeds are evil ;" and continu-
ing to reject him, they are in danger of being given up to
incorrigible hardness of heart. All habits gather strength
by repetition. The man who sinned against his conscience
the last Sabbath, will be more likely to sin against it to-day.
He who stifled conviction then, is probably more disposed
to do it noiv. In this way God is provoked to leave him.
His Spirit will not always strive with man. The sinner first
sinks into indifference before he sinks into judicial sleep. 0
how many who were apparently not far from the kingdom
of God, relapse into stupidity, and never wake out of it.
ALARM TO THE CARELESS. 7
They have eyes, but they see not ; their ears are dull of
hearing, their hearts have waxed gross, so that they will
not turn to the Lord. Woe unto you when God departs
from you. This is no uncommon case. In ancient times
God said, " My people would not hearken to my voice ; so
I gave them up to their own hearts' lusts." If unbelief
under the Old Testament dispensation thus provoked him,
how must he regard those who reject his Son ? Says Jesus
Christ, " 0 that they had known, in this their day, the things
which belong to their peace ; but now they are hidden from
their eyes." God spake to the heathen, says the apostle,
so as to take away excuse even from them ; but they refused
to hear, and their punishment is thus described : " Because
they liked not to retain God in their knowledge, he gave
them up to a reprobate mind." What then will he do to
those who turn away from him who speaks from heaven ?
8. Let me say, in conclusion, your indifference vjill ulti-
mately he broken iq^, and will aggravate your condemna-
tion a thousand fold. The wrath of God is revealed from
heaven against all unrighteousness of men ; and though
the retribution sleep, it will come, and will not tarry. The
measure of iniquity may be long filling up ; but when it is
full, the judgment will be inflicted. The Jews were spared
forty 3'^ears after the Sa\'iour wept over their devoted city,
and in the midst of his tears pronounced the irreversible
sentence; but the cloud burst at length and swept them
away.
And, careless sinner, you may be continued — the Sab-
bath may dawn upon you, the voice of prayer may fall upon
your ears while you sleep securely in your sins ; but the
summons of death will come : " Give an account of thy
stewardship, for thou mayest be no longer steward." You
may reject the Gospel and despise its overtures, but that
summons you cannot reject, that mandate you cannot de-
spise. Your dream of delusion will then be dissipated ; the
awful realities of the judgment will produce a conviction
which will deepen for ever ; the trial of the last day, and
the chains and darkness of the eternal prison, will convince
you that God is righteous when he judgeth.
0, to awake in despair, and find, from the actual inflic-
tion of God's wrath, what an evil thing it is to sin against
him ; to know by irreparable loss the value of blessings de-
9 ALARM TO THE CARELESS,
spised, of atoning blood trampled in the dust, of grace re-
jected. How will it imbitter the soul to dwell upon scenes
passed through during a probationary season. The light
that now shines will add deeper shades to the darkness of
the pit. Recollection will be an endless source of misery
to the lost. " Son," said Jesus Christ to the man in tor-
ment, " REMEMBER that thou iu thy lifetime receivedst thy
good things." What words can express the anguish of a
soul thus reminded of lost opportunities ? " 0, had it not
been for my foolish pride, I might now be robed in purity
at God's right hand : but I would not yield to truth — -I
contended with God, and justly perish." Let these lam-
entations from the world of woe now rouse you to throw
off this lethargy that settles upon you ; call upon God —
cast yourself at his feet — and from this hour act for eterni-
ty ; for if you wrap yourself in the delusion that to-mor-
row shall be as this day, in such an hour as you think not,
the avenger of blood may be upon you. And will you run
the desperate hazard of having this great work to jperform
on a dying bed? Delay, and your "dreadful end" may
only furnish another warning to such as " forget God." But
give him your heart now, and life shall be peace, death a
welcome messenger, and your eternity a scene of unmingled
happiness and triumphant glory.
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
«fo. 384.
LYDIA STURTEVANT;
OR,
THE FATAL RESOLUTION,
AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE.
BY REV. ELIAKIM PHELPS, D. D.
Lydia Sturtevant was the name of an amiable young
lady of my acquaintance, who died at the age of sixteen.
She was the daughter of respectable and pious parents in
one of the New England states. On the cultivation of her
mind considerable attention had been bestowed. Buoyant
in spirit and beautiful in person, she was the pride of her
parents, the ornament of her circle, and the admiration of
all who knew her.
To what extent her mind had been imbued with relig-
ious truth in childhood, I have not been able fully to learn.
It is certain that, from her earliest years, she had regarded
religion with respect, and had entertained the expectation
of becoming a Christian before she died. It is not known,
however, that she was the subject of special religious im-
pressions until the summer of 1824. During the months
of July and August of that year, her mind was solemnly
impressed, and she felt that it was unsafe to continue in the
neglect of religion any longer. One morning, especially,
the first impression as she awoke was, that she must em-
brace religion then; and that her soul was in imminent dan-
ger of being lost if she delayed. She saw herself, as she
VOL. viii, 27
LYDIA STURTEVANT ; OR
expressed it, " to be a great sinner, in the hands of a God
of justice" — saw that there "was no hope but in Jesus
Christ — that in Christ there was a full and complete salva-
tion— that he was ready and willing to receive her then, and
that delay would probably be fatal to her soul." She de-
liberated ; she reasoned ; she prayed, and finally made up
her mind to the deliberate resolution, that she ivould re-
j^ent and accept the offer of salvation before the close of that
DAY. She did not actually repent then, but resolved that
she ivould do it that day. This resolution Avas, as she be-
lieved, the solemn and deliberate purpose of her soul ; and
she felt a degree of satisfaction in the thought, that the
question of her eternal salvation was now so near a final and
favorable adjustment. But the day had its cares and its
pleasures ; business and company filled up its hours, and
the nio-ht found her as thouo^htless, almost, as she had been
for months.
The next morning her religious impressions were re-
newed and deepened. She saw, more clearly than before,
the danger of her condition, and the necessity of immediate
repentance. Sin now appeared more exceedingly sinful;
she reproached herself for violating the resolution of the
previous morning, and in agony of soul, better conceived
than described, formed another resolution, as she expressed
it, " to begin religion before the close of that day.'' And
with this the anxiety of her mind again subsided. The
violated vows of the previous morning gave her some un-
easiness ; she felt not quite the same confidence in herself
that she did before ; but she had now formed her resolution
so firmly, she was so fixed in her purpose, that she consid-
ered the issue could hardly be any longer doubtful ; and
the agony of her soul gave way to the soothing reflection
that she should soon be a Christian. She had now taken,
as she imagined, " one step " — had formed a solemn pur-
pose, and had 2;"iven a pledge to repent that day. She felt,
THE FATAL RESOLUTION. 3
as she expressed it, committed, and hardly had a doubt as
to the accomplishment of her purpose. This day also
passed away as before. She did, indeed, several times
during the day, thinTc of her resolution, but not -with that
overwhelming interest she had felt in the morning, and
nothing decisive was done.
The next morning her impressions were again renewed,
and she again renewed her resolution ; and it was dissipated
as before ; and thus she went on resolving, and breaking
her resolutions, until at length her anxiety entirely subsided,
and she relapsed into her former state of unconcern. She
was not, however, absolutely indifferent ; she still expected
and resolved to be a Christian; but her resolutions now
looked to a more distant period for their accomplishment,
and she returned to the cares and pleasures of the world
with the same interest as before.
About this time she went to reside in a neighboring vil-
lage, and I did not see her again for about three months,
when I was called at an early hour one morning to visit her
on the bed of death. Her last sickness was short — of only
five days' continuance. So insidious was its progress, that
no serious apprehensions Avere entertained as to its issue,
until about eight hours before her death ; and no anxiety
for her salvation, up to this hour, appears to have occupied
her mind. About daybreak, on the morning of the day
she died, she was informed that her symptoms had become
alarming, and that her sickness would probably be fatal.
The intelligence was awfully surprising. It was an hour of
indescribable interest to her soul. A solemn stillness reigned
around. It was at the early dawn of day, just about the
hour at which she formed what she emphatically called
THAT FATAL RESOLUTION, a sliort time before. The opening
twilight, the chamber in which she lay, every object around
brought to mind her former resolutions, and in a moment
4 LYDIA STURTEVANT ; OR,
all the horrors of her situation filled her soul. She now saw
herself a hardened sinner, in the hands of God — impenitent,
unpardoned — without hope — at the very gate of death —
her Saviour slighted, the Spirit grieved and gone, and the
judgment with its tremendous retributions just before her.
For a moment suppose her case your own. Time, that
was given her to prepare for eternity, was gone. Health,
strength, flattering hopes, were gone. The insidious dis-
ease had made such rapid inroads, that her blood was al-
ready beginning to stagnate, and her lungs to falter in the
work of respiration. Feeble and faint, and racked with
pain, just sinking in death, what could she do for her soul ?
And yet do she must, now or never; for in a few short
hours, it would be for ever too late. At one time her dis-
tress became so intense, and her energies so exhausted, that
she was forced to conclude her soul lost — that nothing could
now be done for it ; and for a moment she seemed as if in
a horrid struggle to adjust her mind to her anticipated doom.
But 0 that word LOST. It was a living scorpion to her
deathless soul. Her whole frame shuddered at the thought.
She struggled again for life — raised her haggard eyes, and
seemed to summon every efifort to pray. 0 what agony
did that prayer express ! She called, she begged, she im-
portuned for mercy, until her weak frame gave way, and
she sunk into a partial swoon. A momentary delirium
seemed then to distract her thoughts ; she appeared to
dream that she was well again, and spoke wildly of her
companions, and her employments, and her pleasures. But
the next moment a return of reason dissipated the illusion,
and forced back upon her the dread reality of her situation — •
just trembling on the verge of the pit — ^just sinking, as she
several times affirmed, to an endless hell.
At this awful thouofht her soul aijain summoned
strength — again she cried for mercy with an agony too in-
tense for her weak frame, and again she fainted. It was
THE FATAL RESOLUTION. 5
now nearly noon. Most of the morning had been employed
either in prayer at her bedside, or in attempting to guide
her to the Saviour ; but all seemed ineffectual : her strength
was now near gone ; vital action was no longer perceptible
at the extremities ; the cold death-sweat was gathering on
her brow, and dread despair seemed ready to possess her
soul. She saw, and we all saw, that the fatal moment was
at hand, and her future prospect one of unmingled horror.
She shrunk from it. She turned her eye to me, and called
on all who stood around her to beseech once more the God
of mercy in her behalf.
Turning at one time to her distressed father, as he sat
beside her, watching the changes of her countenance, she
said, with a look such as parents alone can understand, " 0,
my dear father, can't you help me ? — can't you keep me
alive a Kttle longer ? 0, pray for me — pray for me." We
all kneeled again at her bedside, and having once more
commended her to God, I tried again to direct her to the
Saviour, and was beginning to repeat some promises which
I thought appropriate, when she interrupted me, saying
with emphasis, she ^' could not he pardoned ; it was too
late — too late."" And again alluding to that fatal reso-
lution, she begged of me to charge all the youth of my
congregation not to neglect religion as she had done ; not
to stifle their conviction by a mere resolution to repent.
"Warn them, warn them,'' said she, "by my case" — and
again she attempted to pray, and swooned again.
Her voice was now become inarticulate, the dimness of
death was setthng upon her eyes, Avhich now and then, in
a frantifc stare, told of agonies that the tongue could not
express. The energies of her soul, however, seemed not
in the least abated. The same effort to pray was manifestly
still continued, though it was indicated now rather by
struggles and expressive looks and groans, than words.
She continued thus alternately to struggle and faint, every
VOL. VIII. 27*
6 LYDIA STURTEVANT ; OR,
succeeding effort becoming feebler, until the last convulsive
struggle closed the scene, and her spirit took its everlasting
flight.
As I retired from the scene of death, I. was led to con-
template and write down this brief history of that lovely-
female, whose state was now unalterably fixed. But a few
weeks before, she was within the reach of hope, and prom-
ise, and Gospel influence, a subject of deep and solemn
conviction. The Saviour called, the Spirit strove ; she list-
ened, deliberated, resolved. But alas, her resolution fixed
on a future period ; and although it was but a few hours
distant, it aff'orded time for " the wicked one to catch away
that which was sown in her heart." The circumstance
which quieted her conviction, and perhaps prevented her
repentance, was her resolution that she luould repent ; or,
as she more than once expressed it, " that fatal resolu-
tion." Had she actually reimited and embraced salvation
then, instead of simply resolving that she ivould do it, her
death, though in the morning of her days, might have
been peaceful and triumphant, her memory blessed, and
her immortality glorious.
But how was it that a resolution to repent and become
a Christian — a resolution so solemnly adopted, and to be
executed so soon, could have led to a result so disastrous ?
The ansAver is clear. We see in this case the deceitfulness
of the human heart, and the dark device of Satan. Instead
of yielding to conviction and rep.enting at once, she was
quieted by her resolution, until the cares and pleasures of
the day could have time to come in and take possession of
her soul. Her resolution Avas so firmly made and so soon to
be accomplished, that she felt in a measure secure, and her
anxieties subsided. The resolution that she ivould repent
that day calmed her apprehensions, and thus removed from
her mind the most powerful stimulant to do it noiv. The
effect upon her conscience was that of a deceptive and dead-
THE FATAL RESOLUTION. 7
ly opiate ; it lulled to a fatal slumber, to be broken only by
the angel of death.
How many, as we have reason to fear, are going down
to the pit under the same delusion. Impenitent reader, is
not this your case ? Why are you so unconcerned ? Is it
not that you are purposing to repent hereafter ? Would
you — could you be content to live one day, one hour, in
this unprepared state, if you had not some such opiate to
stupefy conscience, and perpetuate its slumbers ? Suppose
it were now revealed, that in a few short hours death would
be upon you, would you not be awakened ? Would you
not with great earnestness seek the Lord while he might
be found ? But what real difference is there between the
condition here supposed and your actual condition now?
Death is certain to come. Why, then, when the fact that
you must die ere long is so certain, why do you feel so little
solicitude to be prepared ? With the tremendous alterna-
tive of heaven or hell appended to your decision, what Sa-
tanic delusion holds you in fatal slumbers ? — what but this
delusive purpose to repent hereafter ? Take away this, and
the vain hope which hangs upon it, and would you slum-
ber ? No more than you would slumber under the trumpet
of the last day.
The deceptive influence, then, of this 7'esolutwn — this
mere purpose to repent, can at once be seen. It perpetu-
ates that insensibility which threatens, even now, your soul's
eternal ruin. No matter how firmly you may resolve to
repent hereafter ; the more firmly you resolve, the more
imminent, perhaps, is your danger, for the greater is the
probability that you will trust in it, and that conscience will
be silenced. No matter how short the period before your
resolution is to be accomplished. Though it were merely
*' to go and bury your father," or '' bid them farewell that
are at home at your house ;" if it admits a s'mgle half hour
of delay, it involves a hazard for which the wealth of king-
8 LYDIA STURTEVANT, ETC.
doms would not compensate. It is a wilful delay of repent-
ance now commanded; it may lead to diverting company or
care ; it may grieve away the Holy Spirit ; it may be that
sin, for which all the sighs, and groans, and tears of a world
could not atone. This mere purpose to repent has been
long enough peopling the world of perdition. It is one of
the darkest devices of Satan. It is not to be trusted, even
for an hour. It is like the pilgrim's "enchanted ground ;"
he who sleeps there, sleeps in the gate of death. If relig-
ion will ever have any value, it has that value now. If its
sanctions ever ivill be binding, they are binding noiv. If
the Most Hiofh ever ivill have a claim to your obedience, he
has that claim now. The business of religion is a business
to be transacted, not to be trifled with or delayed. It re-
quires not simply your purposes, or promises, or resolutions,
but the immediate surrender of your heart, a cheerful sub-
mission of your ivill to the word, and Spirit, and holy will
of God ; a cordial acquiescence in the method of salvation
through Jesus Christ. It is a concern in which no man's
ivord can be taken, even for an hour. Not even the most
solemn voiv, if it fix only on a future period, can meet that
high and holy injunction which " noiu urges all men every-
where to reptent.'" 0 then, by the awful majesty of that
God who thus " commands " — by the tremendous decisions
of his last tribunal — by the amazing worth of your own
soul — and above all, by the infinite love of Him who has
died for sinners, be constrained to REPENT NOW.
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
WHAT IS
A CALL TO THE MINISTRY ?
BY REV. JAMES D. KNOWLES
LETTER I.
My dear Brother — I need not assure you that the
subject on which we recently conversed is deeply interest-
ing to my mind. The inquiry, Is it my duty to preach the
Gospel ? is one of the most important that can occupy your
attention. I have wished that some person competent to
the task would furnish the church with a judicious treatise
on this topic. It would be most gratefully received by
hundreds of young men, whose minds are agitated by
doubts concerning their duty. Such a treatise, too, would
be a valuable assistant to pastors, both by reminding them
of their duty to the young men in their respective churches,
and by aiding them to perform that duty. The churches
also need instruction respecting their obligations to seek out
and cherish the gifts which may exist among their young
members. But as such an essay has not yet appeared, you
will allow me to suggest a few thoughts on the subject.
It gives me pleasure to know that you agree with me
on the point, that sincei^e love to the Saviour is the first and
indispensable qualification. If I had doubt whether you
have been " born of the Spirit," I could not think of you in
reference to the ministry, but should rather feel it my first
duty to beseech you, in Christ's stead, to be reconciled to
God. A man who has not scriptural evidence that his
2 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MLXISTRY ?
heart has been renewed, may be sure that it would be pre-
sumption to intrude himself into the ministry. ISo monarch
would employ a rebel as an ambassador. Much less will
the Saviour appoint an impenitent sinner to proclaim his
Gospel. To such a man the words of the psalmist may be
most emphatically applied : " Unto the wicked God saith,
What hast thou to do to declare my statutes, or that thou
shouldest take my covenant in thy mouth ? seeing thou
hatest instruction, and castest my words behind thee."
But, while I believe you to be a true Christian, I must
exhort 3^ou, before you proceed further in your inquiries
concerning the ministry, to "make your calling and elec-
tion sure " by a faithful application to your own soul of the
scriptural tests of conversion. That it is possible to arrive
at a well-grounded persuasion of our adoption — that we
may " know that we have passed from death unto life " —
that we may enjoy the ''full assurance of faith" — is indis-
putable. Every Christian perhaps experiences occasional
eclipses of his hope, because he is betrayed into sin, which
darkens his understanding and disturbs his peace. But
this is a different thing from that perpetual overshadowing
of the soul of which some professing Christians complain.
They have some light, but the rays struggle through a
cloud. They enjoy some hope, but it is faint and waver-
ing. They have a little peace, but it is often disturbed by
fears. Such a doubting believer is not qualified to plead
the Saviour's cause with men. He cannot confidently urge
others to believe, while he himself has only a feeble faith.
He cannot speak persuasively of the excellence of that
religion, the consolations of which he does not himself en-
joy. He cannot comfort the mourner, guide the inquirer,
and remove the doubts of the perplexed. The young man,
then, who is inquiring concerning the ministry, must ex-
amine himself, not merely to be satisfied that he is a Chris-
WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY 1 3
tian, but to ascertain whether his faith is sufficiently firm to
enable him to go onward in the toils and conflicts of the
ministry Avith the confidence of Paul : "I know whom I
have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep
that which I have committed unto him against that day."
Another fundamental point which you fully admit is,
that there must be a call to the ministry. You believe
that it belongs to the Saviour alone to give pastors and
teachers to his church, and to commission ambassadors to
his enemies. You do not believe that every pious man, nor
even every pious and well-educated man, has a right to
become a minister. You believe that he whom God designs
for the ministry will have a special intimation of the will of
God, without which he must not presume to enter the
sacred office. I will proceed, then, in my next to examine
the nature of a call to the ministry. May the Lord pre-
serve us from error, and guide us into all truth.
Afifectionately yours.
LETTER II.
My dear Brother — While you fully believe that there
is a special call to the ministry, you do not admit the idea
of a m^Vac^^?ow5 intimation of the will of God. You do not
expect to be addressed by an audible voice. You look for
no visions. You wait for no supernatural light from heaven
to flash suddenly upon you. Of all these you find instances
in the Scriptures : but you do not believe that God now
communicates, by such methods, his commands to men. A
knowledge of his will, therefore, in all cases where there is
not an express revelation of that will in the Scriptures, must
be gathered from the general principles there laid down.
4 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY 1
from the providence of God, and from the movings of his
Spirit on the soul.
Let us then inquire what hght on this subject may be
derived from the general principles of the Bible.
One of these principles is, that we are not our own, but
are bought with a price. The Saviour has redeemed us by
his precious blood, and we are his by every claim which
can spring from his relation to us as our Creator and our
Redeemer. All Christians are bound by every tie of love,
of gratitude, of regard to their own happiness, and of desire
for the glory of their Lord, " to live, not unto themselves,
but unto him which died for them, and rose again." Chris-
tians are in the highest sense the " peculiar people " — that
is, the property of the Saviour, whom he has an entire right
to place where he pleases, to employ in whatever service he
may choose, and to subject to whatever trials and labors
may be best adapted to promote his own glory and the
prosperity of his kingdom. No Christian, therefore, is at
liberty to consult his own taste or inclination alone, nor to
seek exclusively his own advantage. Every Christian ought
to inquire with a humble, grateful spirit of self-consecration
to the Saviour's cause, *' Lord, what wilt thou have me to
do?" There is, in a certain sense, a call to every service
in which a Christian can be engaged, and he ought not to
take any important step without seeking by prayer, by
observing the providences of God, and by listening to the
intimations of the Spirit, to know what is the divine will.
A call to the ministry, I conceive, differs from a call to
occupy any other post in the service of the Saviour, not so
much in its nature as in its importance. The office of the
ministry is more important, and therefore requires higher
quahfications ; but the minister's duty to live for the Sav-
iour is no stronger, and indeed no other than the obligation
which embraces every Christian.
WHAT IS A CALL TO THE mNISTRY 1 5
From this principle then, my decar brother, we deduce
this rule, that a7i entire willingness to serve the Saviour
in the ministry, or in any other post, is one necessary qual-
ification of a minister. This willingness, I am happy to
believe, you sincerely cherish. Ever pray that it may
continue to influence all your conduct. It will be a source
of peace to whatever sphere of duty the Saviour may direct
you. Affectionately yours.
LETTER III.
My dear Brother — Another general principle which
the Scriptures teach is, that it is the duty of every Chris-
tian to contribute all in his power to the promotion of truth
and holiness. Nothing less than the utmost exertion of
all his faculties can fulfil his duty. It becomes, then, a
question which every Christian ought seriously and prayer-
fully to examine, Hoio can I he most useful? As God has
given to men different degrees of ability, he has evidently
designed them for different stations. The parable of the
talents is founded on this principle, and it teaches us the
consolatory truth, that the faithful servant will be approved
and rewarded by his master, whether he possess ten talents
or but one. The reasoning of the apostle Paul, in the 12th
chapter of Romans, proceeds on the fact, that there are
different offices to be filled, and that different qualifications
are given to those who are designed to occupy them : " As
we have many members in one body, and all members have
not the same office, so we, being many, are one body in
Christ, and every one members one of another. Having
then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to
us, whether prophecy, let us prophesy according to the
VOL. VTII. 28
6 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE ftHNISTRY ?
proportion of faith ; or ministry, let ns wait on our minis-
tering ; or he tliat teacheth, on teaching ; or he that ex-
horteth^ on exhortation ; he that giveth, let him do it with
simplicity ; he that ruleth, with diligence ; he that showeth
mercy, with cheerfulness." We may, then, safely adopt
this general rule, that wherever God has given to an indi-
vidual the qualifications for a particular work, he ought to
eno^ao'e in that work. There would otherwise seem to be a
waste of power. In the human body, each organ is evi-
dently intended for its appropriate service. There is no-
thing deficient, and nothing superfluous. In the body of
Christ the case is similar. God has undoubtedly distributed
among her members all needful gifts foi her preservation
and growth. It is to be lamented that these gifts are not
always judiciously and faithfully employed.
The principle now under consideration supplies us with
two important rules, which may assist a young man to as-
certain his duty respecting the ministry.
1. That he ought himself to he convinced, on reasonable
grounds, that he loould he more useful as a miiiistei' than in
any other sphere of duty.
2. That he ought to possess, in the opinion of others
who are competent to judge, the essential qualifications for the
ministry.
The judicious Andrew Fuller has accordingly stated, in
his brief remarks on a '' Call to the Ministry," that it is a
principle which may be taken for granted, that " whoever
possesses the essential qualifications for the Christian minis-
try, is called to exercise them." I will, in my next letter,
consider what light may be reflected on the path of duty
from the providence of God.
Afl'ectionately yours.
WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY 1
LETTER IV.
My dear Brother — I mean to use the phrase provi-
dence of God, as includmg whatever God has done for a^
man, m respect to his endowments of body and of mind, the
situation in which he is placed, and his duties and relations
to his fellow-men.
That the physical constitution has some bearing on the
question of duty respecting the ministry, is evident. A
dumb man could not be a minister, whatever might be his
mental and spiritual qualifications. A man whose health
was greatly impaired, or whose constitution was so feeble
as to preclude the hope of efficiency, ought not to enter on
the work. In all such cases, the providence of God has
decided the question.
The constitution of the mind has a still more direct
connection with the subject. A man must have such a
degree of understanding as to enable him to learn and to
teach, or he cannot be fit for a minister. This degree we
cannot fix in theory, though there will be little difficulty,
perhaps, in deciding the point m practice. A feeble mind,
which cannot manage ordinary affairs with success ; a dull
mind, which cannot learn ; an eccentric mind, which prompts
a man to say and do imprudent things ; an indolent mind,
which will not study ; a very irascible temper, and other
bad qualities of this kind, ought to be regarded as evidence
that God does not intend the individual for the ministry.
The qualifications specified in 1 Tim. 3 : 1-7, and Titus
1 : 5-9, should be carefully considered.
I say nothing here of an ignorant mind, because such a
mind may be instructed, if it possess the ability and dispo-
sition. And here, my brother, allow me to make a sugges-
tion, which is, I conceive, very unportant. The question.
8 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY ?
Am I called to be a mhiister ? does not include the ques-
tion, Is it my duty now to preach ? Much of the eiror
which exists on this subject among the churches, and much
of the embarrassment which often distresses the minds of
young Christians, spring from confounding these questions.
The inquiry, in most cases, ought to be, Is it my duty to
PREPARE to preach the Gospel ? It may be a man's duty
to be acquiring the quahfications for the ministry, who is
not yet fit to preach. This is too plain, it would seem, to
need proof. Yet it may be profitable to illustrate this
point. Paul informs us that he was separated and design-
ed for the ministry from his birth. Gal. 1:15. The same
fact is asserted by Jehovah himself concerning Jeremiah.
Jer. 1:5. And all who believe in the foreknowledge of
God, must believe that this is true of all the ministers
whom he appoints. Some eminent ministers, like Dr.
Doddridge, became pious in childhood. If Dr. Doddridge,
while a child, had been informed by Jehovah that he was
designed for the ministry, would it have been his duty then
to commence preaching ? Certainly not. It would have
been his duty to devote himself to an earnest preparation
for the work. If, then, a case might happen, in which the
individual would be called, not to preach, but to prepare to
preach, why should we suppose it unreasonable to conclude
that God often does, by his providence and his Spirit, call
men to the ministry, to be exercised not now, but when
they shall have acquired the necessary preparation ? Our
Saviour called his apostles, not to preach immediately, but
to be disciples, that is, learners, and when they were in-
structed, he sent them forth to proclaim his Gospel.
If this reasoning is correct, the difficulty which seriously
embarrasses many young men, the want of sufficient educa-
tion, is removed. It is a plain case, that God does not call
a man to preach immediately, who is incapable of teaching.
WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY ? 9
It would be an impeachment of his wisdom to suppose it.
But he may call a man to prepare to preach. If a young
man, then, has the other qualifications, his want of educa-
tion is not a reason for doubting whether he is called to be
a minister; that is, to be a minister Avhen he shall have
made all suitable preparation. And at this time, when
Education Societies are ready to assist every suitable ap-
plicant, and when seminaries of learning are so numerous,
almost every young man may, if he will, obtain a competent
education.
This view of the case, too, shows how unfounded is the
objection, which is often made by Christians, to a course of
education for the ministry. If, say they, a man is called to
preach, he ought to preach, and not to spend his time at
college, or at the theological seminary. But they mistake
the point. If the call is to pit'epare to preach, the young
man would disobey God if he should preach instead of
pursuing his studies. Let, then, Christians beware how
they censure young men, and entice them from their books.
They undoubtedly often resist the will of God by such an
interference, and destroy the usefulness of the unhappy
man Avhom they have persuaded to misinterpret his call,
and enter the field before he was prepared. This course
of reasoning, too, shows that it is an injurious and wrono-
practice, to give a young man a license to preach before he
is prepared. The practice of the churches on this subject
ought to be conformed to the indications of God's will. If
the call is to prepare to preach, the church ought to give a
young man, of whose other qualifications they are satisfied,
an expression of their approbation of such a course of prep-
aration, reserving the license for that period when he shall
have acquired a sufficient amount of knowledge and expe-
rience to enable him to teach.
Affectionately yours.
VOL. VIIL 28=^
10 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MLMSTRY?
LETTER V.
My dear Brother — We may reasonably suppose that
if God designs a young man for the ministry, his provi-
dence will furnish some intimation of his will besides the
proper endowments of body and mind. The individual
may expect to see, in his situation, in his pursuits, in his
connection with others, a variety of circumstances concur-
ring to point out his duty. The hand of God will be
presented to guide his steps. There will be, especially, a
removal of obstacles. These may spring from the opposi-
tion of parents or employers, in the case of a minor ; from
various ensaffements which cannot be violated without sin,
and a release from which cannot be obtained ; from pecu-
niary obligations ; from domestic ties ; and from a great
variety of other causes. A man may be sure that while
any lawful engagement which he cannot honorably disre-
gard, opposes his entrance into the ministry, he must not
proceed. He may use all proper means to obtain a release,
but if this is impossible, he must submit. The minister
must have a spotless reputation, and the scandal of violated
engagements would destroy his usefulness. He must wait
patiently, and if the difficulty is never removed, he must
forego the privilege of preaching the Gospel. But a re-
moval of the obstacle, especially if it takes place in such a
way as to make the interference of God manifest, may be
an encouraging indication of his will in reference to the
ministry.
There are circumstances, too, in which a young man is
sometimes placed, which impel him towards the ministry
without any volition, or indeed consciousness of the fact, on
his part. In the Sabbath-school he may be required, by a
sense of duty, to take a prominent place. In conference
and prayer-meetings the absence or supineness of others
WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY? H
may force him to become the leader. In some cases, where
a chm-ch is destitute of a pastor, a young man may be urged
by his brethren to read, and pray, and address the assem-
bly, till he finds himself considered by others as a minister,
and his own heart is too much interested to allow him to
retrace his steps. This was almost literally the case with
Andrew Fuller. Such providential events are among the
strongest external evidences of a call to the ministry.
But the general opinion of Christians, among whom a
young man is placed, that he is designed for the ministry,
may be considered as the most satisfactory proof which can
be furnished by God's providence. Respecting many of the
necessary qualifications a man is not himself a sufficient
judge. Of his talents, his piety, his prudence, his zeal for
the glory of God, his aptness to teach, and his poAver to
interest and benefit others, his brethren are better able to
judge than himself. If, then. Christians around him come
gradually to think that he is designed for the ministry,
while he himself makes no disclosure of his feelings on the
subject ; or if, when he mentions it, he finds their minds
prepared to approve and to encourage him, he may con-
sider this concurrent opinion of Christians as a strong indi-
cation of the will of God. He ought not, it is true, to de-
cide without that internal conviction of duty, of which I
shall soon speak ; but the favorable judgment of Christians
ought greatly to strengthen that conviction. On the other
hand, it may be established as a general rule, that a person
ought to suspect the ground of such a conviction, if judi-
cious and pious men around do not perceive in him minis-
terial gifts, and cannot bid him God speed. There are,
without doubt, cases, in which the ignorance or prejudices
of Christians may induce them to refuse their countenance
and aid to a young man, and he may be forced to act from
his own sense of duty. He would need, however, unusual-
12 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY 1
[y strong evidences of his call, to authorize him to proceed
in opposition to the opinion of his brethren.
AflFectionately yours.
LETTER VI.
My dear Brother — I now approach, with some sohci-
tude, the most important and difficult part of this subject.
The internal call, hy the operation of the Holy Spirit on the
heart, is, we fully believe, indispensable. But the mode of
that operation cannot be described, for the same reason that
we cannot define the mode in which the Spirit accomplishes
the call of a sinner from darkness to light. In both cases,
we can do no more than describe some of the effects.
I have spoken, in Letter II., of the entire willingness
which a man must feel to serve the Saviour in the ministry,
or in any other sphere of duty. This willingness is a fruit
of the Spirit. There must be, besides this, a decided desire
to be thus employed. Such a desire is referred to by Paul.
*' This is a true saying, if a man desire the office of a bishop,
he desireth a good work." There is not necessarily any im-
modesty, any ambitious aspiration in the desire to be a min-
ister ; but it is taken for granted, as Mr. Fuller remarks, that
" this desire shall spring from a pure motive, and not from
the love of ease, affluence, or applause. It is necessary, in
my judgment," he continues, " that there should be a spe-
cial desire of this sort, a kind of fire kindled in the bosom,
that it would be painful to extinguish."
This desire will not be that transient impulse of zeal
which usually impels young Christians to be active in relig-
ious duties, and to think that it would be a privilege to
preach the Gospel, because they could thus be more use-
ful. This feeling generally subsides into a calm principle
WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MLNISTRY 1 13
of benevolent activ ity in the particular sphere in which God
may have placed tlie individual. But if a man is designed
for the ministry this desire will increase. The value of the
soul, the ruin and danger of impenitent sinners, and the
rapid approach of eternity, will press themselves with great
solemnity on his mind. He will feel an irrepressible desire
to warn sinners of their danger, and to beseech them, in
Christ's stead, to be reconciled to God. He wull thus warn
and beseech them, when he has an opportunity, either in
private or in the Sabbath-school, or in the prayer-meeting.
He will desire to be wholly occupied in thus persuading
men to be reconciled to God ; and the ministry, though he
feels it to be awfully responsible and arduous, will appear
to him desirable, because it would enable him to extend
more widely his endeavors to turn his fellow-men from
darkness to light, and to prepare them for the judgment-
day.
But besides this earnest and unceasing desire to be em-
ployed in the ministerial office, there will be a conviction of
duty to be thus engaged. The individual will feel so strong
an impulse of soul towards this point, so entire a concentra-
tion of his thoughts and affections, that he cannot with a
quiet mind think of pursuing any other employment. The
condition of impenitent sinners, the urgent need of pastors
for the destitute churches at home, and of missionaries to
preach the Gospel to those who sit in darkness, will occupy
his thoughts, will be the theme of his conversation, and will
sometimes so excite his feehngs that he cannot rest. He
looks around on the ordinary pursuits of men, and feels that
they are all comparatively trifling. He cannot endure the
thought of spending his life in such pursuits. He is willing
to renounce all worldly prospects for the sake of his Saviour
and of his fellow-men. Though he is willing to do what
his Lord may direct, yet he cannot think with satisfaction
14 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY 1
of any other course of life than that which shall allow him
the privilege of preaching the Gospel. He is fully aware
that the ministry is arduous and responsible ; and that
human wisdom and strength are not " sufficient for these
things." But he is not dismayed. He is willing to en-
counter the toil, and the self-denial ; and his trust is in the
Saviour, that his grace will be sufficient for him.
And all these feelings will be the strongest at those
hours when his mind is most spiritual ; when he enjoys the
most communion with God ; when the Saviour is the most
precious to his soul, and when eternity rises to his view
w^ith the most distinctness, solemnity, and grandeur. It is
in his closet, alone before God, that he feels most deeply
the duty of devoting his life to the sacred work ; and it is
then that he can, with the utmost simplicity and godly sin-
cerity, offer himself to his Redeemer, to be his servant, say-
ing, " Here, Lord, am I, send me. Employ me as thou
mayest please. Send me whither thou shalt choose, even
if it be to the ends of the earth. Appoint for me prosper-
ity or suffering, as thou mayest judge to be best ; but allow
me the privilege of preaching thy Gospel to perishing men.
Make me the instrument of saving them from sin and from
wrath ; and grant me thy presence, in life and in death, and
I ask no more."
These, my brother, are some of the feelings which the
Holy Spirit produces in the heart of that man whom he
designs for the ministry. They may not be experienced in
an equal degree by all who are called to preach the Gos-
pel ; but he who has never felt such emotions ought to
doubt whether it is his duty to be a minister.
He, on the contrary, who does feel them, and who at
the same time is conscious that from pure motives he de-
sires to be engaged in the ministry, may be satisfied that
the Holy Spirit is moving him to the work ; and if the prov-
WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY ? 15
idence of God seems to point in the same direction ; if ob-
stacles are removed from his path ; if circumstances concur
to promote his wishes ; if there is nothing adverse in his
mental or physical constitution ; and especially, if judicious
and pious friends concur in the opinion that he possesses
suitable gifts for the ministry, he ought not to hesitate.
His call is clear. It has the distinct signature of the divine
hand. Let him at once surrender himself to the Saviour's
service, and prosecute with all diligence the necessary prep-
aration for the great and arduous, but most glorious office
of preaching Christ crucified as " the way, the truth, and
the life," He will need great mental as well as spiritual
resources, and he must employ all the means in his power
to cultivate his mind and to grow in grace. If circum-
stances allow him to obtain a thorough education, he would
be guilty if he neglected them. If he cannot prosecute an
extensive course of study, let him do what he can, and his
Master will aid, approve, and reward him.
Affectionately yours.
LETTER YII.
My dear Brother — I have endeavored, in the preced-
ing letters, to lay before you all the considerations which
seem to me necessary to enable you to decide the question
of duty respecting the ministry. You alone can judge re-
specting the application to yourself of several of the rules
which I have mentioned. Allow me to present them again
to your mind in the form of questions ; and may He who
judges the heart enable you to examine faithfully your feel-
ings and motives.
o
Are you satisfied that you have been born again ; and
can you, like Peter, sa}^ " Lord, thou knowest all things.
16 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY?
thou knowest that I love thee ?" Do you habitually re-
gard yourself as not your own, but as under sacred obhga-
tions to live, not unto yourself, but unto Him who died for
you and rose again ? And do you feel an entire willingness
to serve him, either in the ministry, or in the humblest sta-
tion which he may please to appoint for you ? Do you con-
stantly feel it to be your duty to be as useful as possible ;
and do you seize every opportunity of usefulness which is
presented to you by the providence of God ? Are you
active in the Sabbath-school, punctual at the conference and
prayer-meeting, and always ready to admonish and plead
with the impenitent ? Does a strong love for the Saviour's
cause, and for the souls of men, warm your heart ; and do
you desire to be a minister of the Gospel, that you may be
entirely devoted to the work of spreading the knowledge
of Christ and him crucified ? Are you conscious that this
desire springs from pure motives, from sincere love to the
Saviour and compassion to perishing men, and not from
ambition, nor from a wish for ease and emolument ?
Are you solemnly impressed with a sense of duty to
preach the Gospel ? Do you find your thoughts and feel-
ings strongly directed towards the ministry, as the sphere
in which, as you believe, you may be the most useful and
the most happy ? Does every other employment seem to
you uninviting and irksome, not from indolence, but because
you feel that your life may be spent more profitably in
pleading the Saviour's cause with men ? Do you feel that
it would render you unhappy, and make life a melancholy
scene, if you should be denied the privilege of preaching
the Gospel ? And in your most devotional hours, when
souls appear the most valuable, and the Gospel the most
important and glorious, and your spirit draws the nearest
to God, does the ministry then appear the most inviting,
your duty the most plain, and your motives satisfactory to
WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MLNISTRY ? 17
your own mind ? And, finally, does the providence of God
seem to indicate his will ? Are you free from every en-
gagement which might prevent your entrance on the minis-
try, and do the difficulties in the way disappear ?
If you can, my dear brother, in the fear of God, an-
swer these questions in the affirmative, you may confidently
believe that you are called to the ministry, so far as that
call can be inferred from your own feelings and observation.
There are other points, relating to your physical and men-
tal constitution, your moral character, and your general
habits, of which your brethren must judge. You ought to
consult them, and if they are satisfied that you possess gifts
which, with proper cultivation, w411 make you a useful min-
ister, you have all the evidence which you can have, with-
out a revelation from heaven, that it is your duty to preach
the Gospel. I believe, my brother, you do possess the
internal and the outward testimonials of God's will ; and I
earnestly exhort you to hesitate no longer, but to arise and
commence your preparation for the great work. I rejoice
to observe your conscientious anxiety to ascertain your duty
before you proceed. It is, indeed, of immense importance
to be satisfied on this point ; for no minister can be happy,
or very useful, who is in doubt respecting his call to preach
the Gospel. I need say nothing of the minister who has
either ignorantly or presumptuously entered the sacred
office, and still finds himself without love to the Saviour.
Such a minister, even admitting his deportment to be moral,
is, nevertheless, a hinderance to the progress of religion ;
while he, as it has been strongly said, " pursues the hardest
road to hell which a man can travel."
But, my brother, you may offend God by demanding
proofs of his will which he may not be pleased to give. If
you have the evidences which I have mentioned, you may
and ought to proceed. That you may thus decide, and that
VOL. VIII. 29
18 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY?
God may make you a blessing to his church, and an instru-
ment of turning many to righteousness, is my earnest prayer.
You will find the ministry laborious, and attended by many
trials of patience and of faith. But it has many precious
consolations and pleasures now, and there is reserved a glo-
rious crown in heaven for all the faithful servants of our
Lord. " They that be wise shall shine as the brightness
of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness,
as the stars for ever and ever."
If my voice could reach all the young men in the
churches, I would now say to them, " My dear brethren,
in what way will you serve the Saviour ? How can you do
most for his glory, and for perishing men ? Why is it not
your duty to preach the Gospel ? Examine yourselves ;
apply the preceding observations to your own hearts, and
alone, before God, with the cross of Christ, the world lying
in wickedness, and the judgment-day before you, inquire,
* Lord, what w^ilt thou have me to do ?' "
And to the pastom and churches I would sa}^. You have
in this matter an important duty to perform. You ought
to seek out the young men who furnish evidence of minis-
terial gifts. You ought to converse with them, and to en-
courage them. Often, it may be feared, do pastors and
churches neglect their duty on this point. Young men are
left to struggle with their feelings, without one word of
advice or encouragement. The more modest they are, and
therefore the more deserving of sympathy, the more reluc-
tant they are to disclose their feelings, lest they should be
attributed to pride and presumption. A sense of unfitness,
the greatness of the work, doubts concerning duty, all
throng upon the mind, and often produce inconceivable dis-
tress, which one word of kind sympathy and advice from a
pastor or Christian friend might remove. Many young
men, it cannot be doubted, who ought to preach the Gos-
WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MLNISTRY ? 19
pel, are overcome by these anxieties, doubts, and fears, and
relinquish the thought of the ministry. It is a mistake to
suppose, that if it is a man's duty to preach, he will force
his way through every obstacle. A man may neglect to
preach as he may fail to perform any other duty ; and he is
the more liable to neglect this duty, because the conscien-
tious mind will probably consider it a less sin to refuse to
preach, though it be a duty, than to preach when it is not.
If his doubts preponderate in the smallest degree, the mind
of a conscientious man will be very liable to abandon the
design, and thus the very best ministers may be lost to the
church.
But if a young man surmounts his doubts and discour-
agements, and makes his case known to his brethren, he is
sometimes treated with cold suspicion, and obstacles are
thrown in his way on purpose to test the strength of his
zeal. And if, at last, the proper encouragement is given,
so much time may have been wasted, that it is too late to
enter upon the work with advantage.
There may be cases, too, in which a young man may
not have thought of the ministry, who may, nevertheless,
furnish evidence of piety, talents, and zeal, which would
make him useful as a minister. It is undoubtedly the duty
of pastors and Christians to converse with such a person,
in a judicious manner; to inquire respecting his feelings ; to
ask him if it is not his duty to preach the Gospel ; to urge
him to reflect and pray on the subject ; and thus give his
mind a direction towards the object. No reason can be
given why it is not as much our duty to use the proper
means in this case, as it is to persuade a sinner to be recon-
ciled to God. In both cases God may employ us as instru-
ments to accomplish his will.
May God preserve us all from the guilt of neglecting
our own duty, and of hindering others. May he send forth
20 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MLMSTRY1
many laborers into liis harvest, and may his kingdom come,
and his will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.
The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you, my
brother, and with all who love him in sincerity.
Your affectionate BROTHER.
Note. — A premium, offered by a friend, was awarded to the
author of this Tract
HERALDS OF THE GOSPEL.
How beauteous are their feet
Who stand on Zion's hill !
Who bring salvation on their tongues.
And words of peace reveal.
How charming is their voice !
How sweet the tidings are !
" Zion, behold thy Saviour King ;
He reigns and triumphs here."
How happy are our ears,
That hear this joyful sound.
Which kings and prophets waited for,
And sought, but never found !
How blessed are our eyes,
That see this heavenly light ;
Prophets and kings desired it long,
But died without the sight !
The watchmen join their voice.
And tuneful notes employ ;
Jerusalem breaks forth in songs,
And deserts leara the joy. Watu.
DYING TESTIMONY
OF
BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS
COLLECTED FROM AUTHENTIC SOURCES.
BY W. C. BROWNLEE, D. D.
Christianity has its living icitncsses, whose testimony
is " known and read of all men." In these are held forth
the truth and divinity of the Christian religion, in its life,
beauty, and fascinating charms of holiness. This evidence
is vivid and affecting, the manifest result of a divine efficacy
put forth in the formation of Christian character. It is seen
and known to be of God, by all Avho have eyes to see and
hearts to understand. It is evidence, at once striking and
convincing. It exhibits an efect for which no human wis-
dom or power can ever be deemed an adequate cause. It
VOL. VIII. 29*
I>YL\G TESTlMOxNY OF
is ever present before the eyes of men ; exhibiting the same
heavenly traits from generation to generation. And when
a uniformly consistent and holy life is closed by a dying
testimony, the evidence is then complete.
We should not, therefore, separate the consistent hfe of
godliness from the dying testimony of the saints. The two
combined constitute an invaluable living epistle to the honor
of Christ Jesus and his holy religion.
It is true, the Christiaji, after a consistent course of holi-
ness, may depart this life without an opportunity of bearing
his dying testimony. He may die suddenly, or in the delir-
ium of a fever — safely as to his state, it is true, but without
having the honor and the felicity of bearing a dying testi-
mony for his Lord.
In other instances, dying Christians, having lived too
much in the spirit of the world, have exhibited great mental
distress under the hidings of God's countenance. The cele-
brated Hugo Grotius in the bitterness of his spirit cried
out, " Oh, I have consumed my days in a laborious trifling.
I would give all my learning and honor for the plain integ-
rity of poor John Urich !" This was a poor neighbor of his,
who usually spent eight hours a day in prayer. When Sal-
MASius, one of the finest scholars of his age, came to die, he
cried out, " Oh, I have lost a world of time : the most pre-
cious thinof in the world. Oh, sirs, mind the world less, and
God more !" The famous Swiss physician. Baron Haller,
was in great darkness and distress of mind an his death-bed ;
he bewailed his misspent time, and solemnly warned those
about him to devote their time to God. He was enabled
at last, however, to express his renewed confidence in God's
mercy, through Jesus Christ. The case of Dr. Samuel
Johnson, the colossus of English hterature, was very sim-
ilar to this. It was not until the pure light of evangelical
truth broke in upon his mind that he obtained true Chris-
tian peace.
BELIEVERS A^D UXBELIEVERP. 3
The deaths of men of the world, and the enemies of
Christ, we cannot contemplate without salutary instruction
and solemn warning. I might refer to many recorded in
the Bible, such as that of Pharaoh ; of Korah ; of the two
sons of Aaron, who perished under the influence of wine, in
the act of offering, like the infidel, " strange fire on God's
altar;" of Achan, whose heinous crimes brought sudden
death on thirty-six men, and a fearful retribution on him-
self; and Balaam, who sacrificed his allegiance to God, and
his own honor, conscience, and life, to the lust of ambition ;
Absalom, the unnatural child and rebellious subject ; King
Ahab, and his queen Jezebel, who met the fearful doom of
the persecutors of Christ and his people ; Haman, the un-
principled statesman, who sought to sacrifice the people of
God on the altar of his personal ambition, and who was
hurried suddenly to the very gibbet which his hands had
reared for his rival ; Judas Iscariot, who betrayed our
Lord, and whose doom was thus written by God — " Good
ivere it for that man had he never been horn /" Ananias
and Sapphira, who "lied unto God the Holy Ghost," and
perished in the act of their sin ; and Elymas, the false
prophet, who was smitten blind while he opposed the Gos-
pel of Christ : but we shall select the following.
Julian the Apostate sought to destroy the Christian
religion, and its ministry, by depriving them of their schools
and the means of education. He avowed it as his object to
show the falsity of the Scripture predictions respecting the
temple ; and for this purpose he gave orders that it should
be rebuilt, and the Jews' worship set up again. But, as
historians relate, he was utterly defeated ; balls of fire issu-
ino- out of the foundation, scatterinor the materials and over-
whelming the workmen with terror. He fell in battle, fight-
ing against the Persians. Finding himself mortally wounded,
he received a handful of his gushing blood, and thi-ew it
up towards heaven, ''in spite," says one historian, ''against
4 DYLNG TESTIMONY OF
the sun, the idol of the Persians, which fought against him ;"
but more probably, as other respectable historians state,
" in malio-nant hatred aoainst Christ ;" who also add, that
"as he hurled the blood upward, he cried, Thou hast con-
quered, 0 Galilean!''
Antiochus IV. was an unrelenting enemy of the church
of God. In a furious passion he vowed the utter ruin of
Jerusalem and the people of God. He took an oath that
he would make it a national sepulchre for the Jews, and
extirpate them to a man. But even while the words were
in his mouth the wrath of God fell on him, and smote him
with a horrible disease. In spite of all the arts of his phy-
sicians, his body became a mass of putrefaction, whence
there issued an incredible number of worms ; and the
torture of his mind was infinitely superior to that of his
body. And before he sunk into a delirium he acknow-
ledged that it was the hand of the Almighty that had
crushed him.
And by the same form of disease Philip II. of Spain
perished ; a persecutor of Christians, more bigoted and
more bloody than either of the former. His flesh consumed
away on his bones, by incurable ulcers, which sent forth
innumerable swarms of worms, so that nobody could ap-
proach him without fainting. His shrieks and groans were
heard over the palace.
Alexander Campbell was a Dominican friar, who stood
by and assailed the Scottish martyr, Patrick Hamilton.
After the martyr was in the flames, and the powder, having
exploded, had severely scorched his hand and his face, this
impious man cried out incessantly to him, " Repent, heretic.
Call on our lady, and say. Hail, Manj !'' The martyr
meekly replied, "Depart from me, thou messenger of Satan,
and trouble not my last moments." But, as he still uttered
with great vehemence, " Pray to our lady ; say. Hail, Mary /"
the martyr turned his eyes on him and said, " 0 thou vilest
BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 5
of men, thou knowest in thy conscience that these doctrines
which thou condemnest are true, and this thou didst confess
to me in secret. I cite thee to answer for this at the judg-
ment-seat of Christ." Buchanan and Knox add, that the
friar in a short time became distracted, and died in the
ragings of despair. Scot's Worthies.
John Nisbet, a lawyer of Glasgow, was a mocker of
piety, and a drunkard. In 1681, when the martyr, the
Rev. Donald Cargill, was on the way to the scene of his
sufferings for Christ's cause and crown, this man cruelly in-
sulted him in public. As the martyr stood in chains, he
said to him, *' Mr. Donald " — Mr. Cargill, whom he thus ad-
dressed, was an aged man, his hair as white as snow ; he
had been long the eloquent minister of the High Church of
Glasgow, loved iind revered by all good men — '' Mr. Donald,
will you give us one word ?nore?" alluding, in mockery, to
a familiar phrase which this eminent man of God frequently
used when summing up his discourses. The martyr turned
his eyes in tears of sorrow and regret on him, and said to
him, in that deep and solemn tone so peculiar to him,
"Mock not, lest your bands be made strong." He added,
after a solemn pause, " That day is coming when you shall
not have one word to say, though you would !" The histo-
rian Wodrow adds, " Not many days after this, the Lord
was pleased to lay his hands on that bad man. At Glas-
gow, where he lived, he fell suddenly ill, and for three
days his tongue swelled, and though he seemed very ear-
nest to speak, yet he could not command one word, and he
died in great torment and seeming terror." This faithful
historian, who published his great work in folio, *' The His-
tory of the Sufferings of the Church," etc., in the year 1722,
has added these words : " Some yet alive knoio the truth of
this passage.'' Vol. 3, p. 279, 8vo edit.
HoBBES, after spreading atheism among some of the
first men of the nation, and corrupting the youth, said with
6 DYLXG TESTIMONY OF
horror, in his hist moments, " I am taking a fearful leap in
the dark.''
Voltaire died amid the impious adulations of France,
one of the most miserable of human beings in this world,
smitten by the visible stroke of the Almighty, crying out in
the horrors of despair on the name of Christ at one time,
and at another, on the names of his associates and admirers,
whom he execrated, and cvu-sed as the cause of his ruin
and abandonment of heaven. Wilson's Evid. of Chris.
"David Hume died as a philosopher dies," said Dr.
Smith in his memoir. But he and Laurence Sterne are
among the few instances of men who died as the fool dieth ;
or affected to do so. The former, " the philosophical liisto-
rian," relieved the agitations of his mind by his favorite
whist, and by puerile attempts at wit, in fabricating dia-
logues between himself and the fictitious Charon. The
latter, "the clerical buffoon," as Simpson calls him, when
he came to be in dying circumstances, perceiving death to
make his advances upward, affected to be witty ; raising
himself up in his bed, he is said, either in real or pretended
rage, to have sworn at the sly assassin death, that he should
not kill him yet! But it is now well known in the literary
and religious world, that Hume died in extreme agony and
horror of mind. His nurse, a truly respectable woman, has
detailed the dreadful secret, and expressed her fervent de-
sire never to witness such another horrible death-bed scene.*
Thomas Paine was another who, as some yet alive in
the city of New York know, yielded up his troubled spirit
in a tempest of agony and despair ; alternately uttering
fearful execrations, and calhng on the insulted name of
Jesus Christ.
Francis Spira, a Venetian lawyer of the sixteenth cen-
tury, who had deliberately violated his conscience, and
* See Professor Silli man's Journal in Europe, and several re-
cent statements.
BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 7
denied his God, seemed to be forsaken of his Maker, and
given up to the horrors of despair ; his body was wasted
away to a skeleton, w^hile an unquenchable fire consumed
his soul.
Thomas Scot, a privy councillor of James Y. of Scot-
land, was a noted persecutor of tlie reformers. Being
taken suddenly ill, and finding himself dying, he cried out
to the Roman priests who sought to comfort him, " Begone,
you and your trumpery ; until this moment I believed that
there was neither a God nor a hell. Now I know and I feel
that there are both, and I am doomed to perdition by the
just judgment of the Almighty." Scot's Worthies, Appen-
dix, p. 7.
Cardinal Mazarine cried out with tears in his last
moments, "0 my poor soul, what is to become of thee?
Whither w^ilt thou go ? 0, were I permitted to live again,
I would sooner be the humblest wretch in the ranks of
mendicants than a courtier."
Charles IX., king of France, Avas young in years, but
old in crime. He plotted the horrid massacre of the Prot-
estants in his kingdom. AVithin a few days 30,000 ; others
say 50,000 ; another writer, 100,000 Protestants were
butchered in cold blood. " Being stricken in early life by
an incurable disease, these scenes, so shocking to humanity,
presented themselves in fearful array to his guilty mind,"
and, as an accurate recorder of events says, " produced on
his death-bed the appalling exhibition of a tortured con-
science and an aveno-ino- heaven."
The case of Lord P is detailed by Mr. Simpson
in his " Plea.'" He was an apostate, a deist, and a mocker
of religion. On his dying bed his conscience was over-
whelmed with horror at what he had done. In this agony
of mind he called to a person to "go and bring that cursed
book," meaning the work by which he had been seduced
into deism ; " I cannot die until T destroy it." It was put
8 DYIXG TESTIMONY OF
into his hands. With mingled horror and revenge he tore
it into pieces, and hurled it into the flames, and soon after
died in great horrors. Evang. Mag., June, 1797.
William Pope of Bolton was an apostate from religion.
He united with a society of deists, who spent the Sabbath-
day in confirming each other in deism, and in every outrage
aorainst the Holy Bible and the Christian relio-ion. But the
judgments of God soon fell on him. In his fatal illness he
exclaimed, " Oh, I long to die, that I may be in the place
of perdition — that I may know the worst of it." Being in a
fearful agony, in his last moments he exclaimed with a
doleful moan, " My damnation is sealed." This he repeated
until he expired. See Meth. Mag., August, 1798, and Simp-
son's Plea.
The Duke of Rothes was the president of the supreme
national council of Scotland under Charles II., and one of
the chief instruments who conducted the revolting persecu-
tions of that day. In early life he had made a profession
of religion. But he forgot the example, and disappointed
the pious hopes of his religious father. He became an
apostate, and was one of seven public men who were sol-
emnly excommunicated by the Rev. Mr. Donald Cargill.
On the morning of the day in which this minister, Mr. Car-
gill, was led to the scaffold — and it is a memorable fact
that he was condemned in the court of the lords of the jus-
ticiary by the casting-vote of Lord Rothes — Rothes was
taken suddenly ill with a fatal distemper. The near pros-
pect of eternity awakened the horrors of his sleeping con-
science, the very bed shook under him, and his piercing
cries of agony were heard over the neighborhood. By his
request, the ministers of the Presbyterian church, whom
he had persecuted, were assembled at his bedside to pray
for him. While the Duke of Hamilton and the other no-
bles and officers of state were standing near him, he cried
out, "We all thought little of that man," j\fr. Caro-ill. "his
BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 9
preaching, and his sentence. But O, sirs, I find it binding
on my conscience now ; and it will bind me to all eternity."
Shortly after this he expired.
William Emmerson was, in his day, an eminent mathe-
matician and scholar ; but being an infidel, the fruits of it
were profaneness, vice, and drunkenness. In his last days
he exhibited a painful spectacle. In his paroxysms of the
stone, he would crav/1 on his hands and knees, uttering at
times broken sentences of prayer, intermingled with blas-
phemies and profane swearing. What a contrast between
his death and that of Sir Isaac Newtox, who died of the
same painful disease. In the severest paroxysms, which
even forced large drops of sweat that ran down his face,
Sir Isaac never uttered a complaint, or showed the least
impatience. ^^
" These examples," as one observes, "give little encour-
agement indeed to any person who has a proper concern
for his own welfare, to embark in the atheistic or the deiatic
schemes. In those cases w^here conscience is awake, the
miserable man is filled with anguish, and overwhelmed with
amazement and inexpressible horror ; and in those where
conscience seems asleep, there appears nothing enviable in
his situation, even upon his owm supposition that there is
no after-reckoning. If to- die like an ass be a privilege, I
give him joy of it. Let him reap the benefit of it. But
let me die the death of the righteous, and. let my last eiid be
like his.''
We now turn to contemplate the death-bed scenes of
some of the noble army of martyrs, confessors, and private
Christians — " My fathers, my fathers, the chariots of Israel,
* It affords pleasure to find that Dr. Hales, in his work on
" Faith in the Holy Trinity,^'' has vindicated Sir Isaac Newton
from the calumnious charge of being a Socinian, or Arian, See
vol. 2, pp. 189, 190, note,
VOL. VIII. 30
10 DYIXG TESTIMONY OF
and the horsemen thereof!" — and while we look upon them
as they go up, may the Spiiit that rested on them descend
and rest upon iis.
.1. We shall place at the head of them all, the Prince
OF MARTYRS, THE LoRD Jesus Christ ; for wliilc wc do, by
faith, look to him as onr great High-priest, who, by his
sufferings on the cross-, made a perfect atonement and satis-
faction to divine justice for us, we must not fail to look to
him as a martyr to the truth, a perfect example for imita-
tion in all ages. In his agonies in the garden, when wrest-
ling with the powers of darkness and anticipating the more
awful agonies of the cross, he cried out, " 0, my Father, if
it be possible, let this cup pass from me. Nevertheless,
not my will, but thine be done." He was not afraid, not
imwilling to die for us ; but .0, let us remember what his
soul and body were then enduring under the guilt of sin-
ners. His holy soul did shudder at the prospect ; and it
did set us moreover an example of willingness to be spared
as to our lives, and also of willingness to suffer and die
whenever God's will should require it. O what dignity,
what submission, what self-possession, what meekness did
THE Prince of martyrs uniformly display ! " He was led
as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shear-
ers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth." "The cup
which my Father giveth me, shall I not drink it?" Look-
ing in the infinitude of his benevolence upon his bloody
persecutors, he set before us the great and divine model
of the forgiveness of enemies: "Father, forgive them;
FOR THEY KNOW NOT WHAT THEY DO." And then, kuowiug
all things to be accomplished, he meekly bowed his head,
as he cried with a loud voice, " It is finished," and gave
up his spirit. If Socrates died as a hero, Jesus Christ
verily died AS a God.
Let us now turn to the noble band of martyrs and con-
fessors, who have been imitators of God, as dear children.
BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. H
2. Tiie martyr Stephen was stoned to death while call-
ing upon God, and saymg, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit."
And he kneeled down and cried with a loud voice, " Lord,
lay not this sin to their charge ;" and when he had said this,
he fell asleep.
3. The apostle Paul, in prospect of his martyrdom,
thus expressed himself: ''I am now ready to be offered,
and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a
good fight ; I have finished my course ; I have kept the
faith : henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of right-
eousness, which the righteous Judge shall give me at that
day."
4. Ignatius, who succeeded the apostle Peter in the
church of Antioch, after faithfully preaching the Gospel,
and winning many souls to Christ, sealed the truth with his
blood. By the edict of the emperor Trajan, he was carried
from Antioch to the city of Rome. Through all places
whither he was conducted, he ceased not to exhort and
animate all Christians ; he was continually breathing out
ardent desires for the crown of martyrdom, repeating, " My
Love was crucified for me." In the amphitheatre of Rome,
he was thrown to the hungry lions, and devoured by them
as he commended his departing soul to Christ.
5. PoLYCARP, bishop of Smyrna, Avas a devoted minis-
ter of the Lord. He suffered martyrdom in the ninety-fifth
year of his age. When he was brought to the bar, the
proconsul said, " Repent ; reproach your Christ, and I will
release you." *' These fourscore-and-six years," cried Poly-
carp, " I have been his faithful follower and minister ; never
did he use me unkindly ; how, then, can I blaspheme my
King and Saviour?" ''Repent; swear by the genius of
the emperor, and offer incense," cried the Roman. " No,
no," said the martyr; "I am a Christian, and cannot do
IT." " Abjui:e Christianity, or you shall be thrown to the
wild beasts." ''Let them come on," cried Polycarp ; '* we
12 DYING TESTIMONY OF
Christians are not accustomed to change from letter to worse,
but from had to better.'' " You shall be burned alive,"
said the proconsul. Polycarp fixed his eyes on him and
replied, " Your fire will be spent in an hour, but that which
is reserved for sinners is eternal." These were his last
words: "O God of angels, and powers, and all creatures,
and of all the just that live in thy sight, blessed be thou
that hast made me worthy to see this day and hour — that
hast made me a partaker among thy holy martyrs. 0 grant
that this day I may be presented before thee among thy
saints, a rich and acceptable sacrifice, according to thy will.
0 Lord, I adore thee for all thy mercies ; I bless thee, I
glorify thee, through thy onl}^- begotten Son, the eternal
High-Priest, Christ Jesus ; through whom, in the unity of
the Holy Ghost, to thee be glory now and for evermore ;"
and as he cried aloud "Amen,'" the fire was kindled, and
he died in peace, with constancy and courage.
6. The famous Augustine, after a life of devotion to
the service of God, longed to depart and be with Christ.
''O Lord, shall 1 die at all— shall I die at all?" "Yes."
" Why, then, 0 Lord, if ever, why not now ; 0 why not
now ? But thy ^\\\\ be done. Come, Lord Jesus." Brooks'
Apples of Gold.
v. There is an affecting resemblance between the last
w^ords of good old Simeon in the temple, who took the
infant Saviour in his arms, and those of that holy man
Hilary, the bishop of Poictiers, A. D. 355, the fellow-
laborer of Athanasius in defence of the truth. Simeon
exclaimed, '* Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in
peace, according to thy word ; for mine eyes have seen thy
salvation." The venerable Hilary, in his last moments,
thus addressed his soul : '' Soul, thou hast served Christ
these seventy years, and art thou afraid to die ? Go out,
soul, go out." Brooks.
8. John Huss, the Bohemian martvr, was burned alive
BELIEVERS AM) U.NBELIEVERS.
13
in A. D. 1415. When he came to tlie place of execution,
he threw liimself on his knees and sung a psalm, and look-
ing steadfastly up to heaven, he uttered this prayer : " Into
thy hands, O Lord, I commit my spirit. Thou hast re-
deemed me, 0 most good and faithful God. Lord Jesus
Christ, assist me, that with a firm and present mind, by thy
most powerful grace, I may undergo this most cruel death,
to which I am condemned for preaching thy most holy Gos-
pel. Amen." When the chain was placed on his neck,
he exclaimed with a smile, " Welcome this chain, for Christ's
sake." As the faggots were piled up to his neck, the duke
of Bavaria in a brutal manner called on him to abjure and
submit. ''No, no," cried the martyr; "I take God to wit-
ness I preached none but his own pure doctrines ; and what
I taught I am ready to seal with my blood." The fire be-
ing kindled, Huss sung a hymn with a loud voice, which
was heard above all the crackling and roaring of the flames.
Having finished the hymn, he cried with a loud voice,
"Lord Jesus, thou Son of the hving God, have mercy on
me ;" and as he uttered this, he sunk down in the flames
and expired.
9. Jerome of Prague, the associate of Huss in the work
of reformation, followed him to the stake a few months after
this. Arrived at the place, he knelt down and commended
himself to God in nearly the same words as Huss did. The
whole deportment of this faithful minister of Christ exhib-
ited unshaken courage, and at the same time holy submis-
sion to God's will. When the executioner was about to
kindle the fire behindhiia, he said, '* Bring thy torch hither ;
do thine office before my face ; had I feared death, I might
have avoided it." As the faggots began to blaze, he com-
menced singing a psalm in a loud voice, until at length he
was suffocated in the flames.
10. The character of Luther, the great reformer, is well
known. The two chief elements of his character Avere fer-
vor.. viii. , 30^
14 DYING TESTIMONY OF
vent devotion* and invincible courage. When any fresh
trouble arose, he Avould say, " Come, let us sing the forty-
sixth psalm." When making his last will, he "bequeathed
his detestation of popery to his friends and the brethren ;"
and repeated a saying of his own, " I was tlie plague of
popery in my life, and shall continue to be so in my death."
A little before he expired, he said often to his friends,
'• Pray, pray much for the propagation of the Gospel ; the
council of Trent " — which had sat once or twice — " and the
pope would devise strange things against it." The last
words he was heard to utter were these: "Into thy hands
I commend my spirit. Thou hast redeemed me, 0 Lord
God of truth," Thus the great reformer died a happy and
triumphant death.
11. Melancthox, his illustrious associate, closed his
glorious fjareer also by a happy death. Raising himself up
in his death-bed, he exclaimed with holy joy, " If God be
for us, who can be against us ?" Being asked by his affec-
tionate relatives if he wanted any thing, he replied, " I^otli-
ing but heaven." And laying himself back, he gently fell
asleep in Christ.
12. Beza, the colleague and successor of Calvin, when
on his dying bed, went over the various promises contained
in the ninety-first psalm, and then rehearsing the leading
events and escapes he had met with, showed how wonder-
fully God had fulfilled all these promises to him. " Thou
hast often delivered me from the snare of the fowler, and
from the noisome pestilence which walked in secret ; thou
hast been my refuge and fortress when, on the field of bat-
tle, with my Protestant brethren, thousands were falling on
every side. The Lord has given his angels charge over me ;
and now, having 'satisfied me with a long life,' I have no
more to wait for but the fulfilling of the last words of the
* He never spent less than three hours a day in secret prayer.
Jones^ Hist.
BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 15
psalm, ' I loill shoio him my salvation,'' for which in confi-
dence I have longed." Fleming's Fulf. of the Script.
13. Patrick Hamilton, the Scottish martyr, was re-
lated to the first nobles of Scotland, and also to King James
V. He was converted imder the ministry of Luther, Avhile
finishing his education in Germany, and about to receive
the highest honors of the Romish church in his native land.
He returned home in the twenty-third year of his age, and
began to proclaim the pure Gospel to bis countrymen. He
was hurried through a mock trial by the court, and con-
demned, February 28, 1527, to be burned alive; and the
same day was carried to the stake. While throwing off his
upper garments he observed, " Albeit this death be bitter
and painful in man's judgment, yet it is the entrance to
eternal life." While friar Campbell disturbed his devo-
tions, and said, " Recant, heretic, and call on the Virgin,"
the martyr meekly replied, " 0, wicked man, thou knowest
that I am no heretic : I cite thee to appear at the judgment-
seat of Christ." As the fire blazed around him, he cried
out, " How long, 0 Lord, shall darkness overwhelm this
realm? How long wilt thou suffer this tyranny of men?"
And just before he sunk down in the fierce flames, looking
up to heaven, he uttered these, his last words : "0 Lord
Jesus, receive my spirit."
14. George Wishart, a man of apostolic character,
w^ho trained the useful spirit of John Knox, and paved the
w^ay for him in the Scottish reformation, fell a victim to the
truth nineteen years after Patrick Hamilton. At the stake
he cried out, " For the true Gospel, gHven me by the grace
of God, I suffer this day with a glad heart. Behold, and
consider my visage ; ye shall not see me change color ; I
fear not this fire. I know surely, and my faith is such, that
my soul shall drink ivine new ivith my Saviour this night 1^''
And kneeling down, he prayed for forgiveness to his accus-
ers and enemies. As the fire was kindled, he raised his
1(3 DYLN'G TESTIMONY OF
eyes to heaven and cried, " 0 Saviour of the world, have
mercy on me ! Father of heaven, into thy hands I commend
my spirit. ''
15. John Knox the Scottish reformer's dying words
were, " Come, Lord Jesus, sweet Jesus, into thy hands I
commend my spirit : be merciful, 0 Lord, to thy church,
which tliou hast redeemed ; raise up faithful pastors."
After this, calling his friends to his bedside, he broke out
in these rapturous expressions : *' I have been meditating
on the troubled state of the church, the spouse of Christ ;
I have called on God, and committed her to her head,
Christ ; I have fought against spiritual wickedness in high
places, and have prevailed ; I have tasted of the heavenly
joys where presently I shall be." " jS"ow, for the last time,
I commit soul, body, and spirit into his hands." Uttering
a deep sigh, he said, " Xoiu it is come F' His faithful attend-
ant desired him to give his friends a sign that he died in
peace. On this he w^aved his hand, and uttering two deep
sighs, he fell asleep in Jesus. See Dr. M'Crie.
16. When Tindal, the translator of the Bible, suffered
martyrdom, in 1536, the last prayer he uttered was, '' 0
Lord, open the king of England's eyes !" He lost sight of
his own afflictions in his anxiety for the welfare of the church
of Christ.
17. When the martyr Bilney suffered at the stake, in
the reign of Henry YIH., he lifted up his arms towards
heaven as the fire w^as applied to the faggots, and died
exclaiming, "I believe, I believe."
18. Lambert, a martyr under Henry VIH., while he
was cruelly mangled by the soldiers' halberts, and con-
sumed in a slow fire, raised his hands, now flaming with
fire, and exclaimed with ^ distinct voice, ''None hut Christ ;
none hut Christ.''
19. Lawrence Saunders suffered martyrdom under
the "bloody Queen Mary." He kissed the stake at which
BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 17
he was bound, and cried aloud, " Welcome the cross of
Christ ; welcome the oross of Christ ! Welcome life ever-
lasting !"
20. Bradford, the most famous preacher of ICing Ed-
ward's day, was brought to the stake by Queen Mary. His
last words, as he submitted to the flames, were, " Strait is
the gate and narrow is the way that leadeth unto life ; and
few there be that find it. And now, 0 Lord Jesus, receive
my spirit."
21, 22. In a few months after him, the immortal Lati-
mer and Ridley were burned at Oxford. Latimer died in
a short time in the fierce fire, but the wind kept the flames
off the vitals of Ridley : his sufferings were excruciating ;
his lower parts being consumed before the fire reached his
body ! Their courage and holy resignation showed mani-
festly the presence of the blessed Comforter sustaining
them. ^' Be of good heart, brother,'' cried Ridley; "for our
God luill either assuage the fury of this fame, or enable us
to abide it.'' Latimer replied, '■' Beof good comfort, brother ;
for ive shall this dag light such a candle in England as, by
God's grace, shall never be put out!"
23. The famous Cranmer, when brought to the stake,
after making a bold confession of his faith, and deploring
the error into which he had fallen in the hour of tempta-
tion, thrust his right hand into the flames, that being the
hand with which he had signed his denial of his Lord, ex-
claiming, " This hand has offended — this unworthy hand f
and he moved it not, except once to wipe oflf the sweat of
agony from his face, until it dropped oft^! He then cried
aloud, " 0 Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." What a trium-
phant death before the very eyes of Christ's enemies !
24. Cur^us, a learned German physician, when dying,
said, " I am oppressed, 0 Lord ; but it is enough that thy
hand has done it. 0 dissolve me, that I may be with thee.
Now, when my breath and spirits fail, let, 0 blessed Saviour,
18 DYLNG TESTIMONY OF
thy Spirit speak, and intercede in my soul for me, with un-
utterable groans," "I shall see my Saviour m the flesh, at
the Father's rio-ht hand. I shall follow him whither he
o
goeth. 0 come, let us go forth to meet our Redeemer :
behold, he cometh. Lord Jesus, receive me."
25. Bergerus, an illustrious councillor of the emperor
Maximilian, and one much admired by Melancthon, said on
his dying bed, "Farewell, O farewell, all earthly things,
and welcome heaven ! Let none hereafter make any men-
tion of earthly things to me."
26. ZuNiGER, a learned professor of medicine at Basle,
approached his end with holy longings and pantings after
death : "I rejoice, yea, my spirit leaps Avithin me for joy
that now the time at last is come, when I shall see the
glorious God face to face ; whose glory I have had some
glances of here, in the search of natural things ; whom I
have w^orshipped, whom I have by faith longed after, and
after whom my soul has panted."
27. Olympia Fulvia Morata was a young lady brought
up at the court of Ferrara, Italy, of distinguished talents
and great acquirements ; she could write and speak Greek
and Latin. Having married a German physician, she re-
moved into Germany, and was by his instructions brought
to embrace the Protestant religion. In her last illness, her
husband, deeply affected, was oftering her consolations out
of the Holy Bible, and discoursing of heaven. She replied
yviih a sweet smile, " I long to be dissolved, and to be with
Christ. I am all joy — full of joy. And now, dear husband,
I know you no more. I feel an inexpressible tranquillity
and peace with God, through Jesus Christ."
28. John Bunyan, the immortal author of the Pilgrim's
Progress, closed his course of usefulness and honor by a
truly Christian death. Having frequently exhorted all
about his dying bed to faith and a godly life, he called on
them repeatedly to spend much of their time in prayer.
BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 19
His last words were, " Weep not for me, but for yourselves.
I go to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, wlio no doubt
will receive me, though a sinner, through the mediation of
our Lord Jesus Christ; where I hope we shall ere long
meet, to sing the new song, and remain happy for ever,
world without end. Amen." Inverne}^'s Memorial of
Bun van.
29. Addison, just before his departure, sent for a young
nobleman for whom he had felt a deep interest, and taking
him by the hand, said, " Behold in what peace a Christian
can die."
30. Lord William Russel, son of the duke of Bedford,
and a distinguished patriot, fell a victim to the tyranny of
Charles IL in 1683. When his last interview was over
with the countess his wife, on the evening before he was
executed, he observed, " The bitterness of death is already
past." Just before he was beheaded, he said aloud, "Nei-
ther imprisonment nor fear of death have been able to dis-
compose me in any degree. On the contrary, I have found
the assurances of the love and mercy of God, in and throui^h
my blessed Redeemer, in whom alone I trust. And I do
not question but I am going to partake of that fulness of
joy which is in his presence ; the hopes of which do so
wonderfully delight me, that I think this is the happiest
time of my life, though others may look upon it as the
saddest."
3L George Buchanan, the ornament of Scottish liter-
ature, and the tutor of King James VI., was an eminent
Christian. Having gone into the country to see his friends,
he was there taken with his last illness. King James, need-
ing his assistance, sent a pressing message to him to be at
court in twenty days. He sent this reply : " Before the
days mentioned by your majesty shall be expired, I shall
be in that place where few kings enter." At the hearino-
of this message the king wept bitterlv.
20 DYING TESTIMONY OF
32. Lord Bacon was one of the greatest geniuses of
England, and what is more than all, a sincere Christian.
How delicious to turn away from the vaporing pomp and
parade of philosophists and infidels to the pages of such
men as Bacox, and hear him saying, "A little .philosophy
inclineth men's minds to atheism ; but depths in pliilosophy
bring men's minds about to religion." I find a prayer of
his which begins with these words, and which we record as
his last testimony : " Thy creatures, 0 Lord, have been my
books, but thy holy Scriptures much more. I have sought
thee in the courts, fields, and gardens ; but I have found
thee, 0 God, in thy sanctuary, thy temples."
33. John Welch, the son-in-law of John Knox, was
one of the most gifted ministers of the church of Scotland ;
a man of apostolic zeal and extraordinary devotion : he
lived in holy communion with God. He died an exile in
France for the word of God and the testimony of Jesus.
Having preached to a congregation of Protestants in France,
he was taken ill immediately as he left the pulpit. On his
death-bed he seemed to feel himself on the very threshold
of glory ; he was filled and overpowered with the sensible
manifestations of God's love and glory. The last words of
this holy man were uttered in an ecstasy of joy : " It is
enough, 0 Lord, it is now enough ; hold thy hand ; thy
servant is a clay vessel, and can hold no more !" See
Scot's Worthies.
34. Robert Bruce, another burning and shining light
of that church, had been educated for the law by his father,
one of the first barons of Scotland, and had got a patent to
be one of the lords of session. But he was called by the
grace of God to the ministry, and abandoning all his fasci-
nating prospects, he joyfully took up the cross and followed
Jesus. He was ordained to the ministry m Edinburgh,
where he withstood King James' attempts to overturn the
religion and liberties of Scotland, until he was exiled. He
BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 21
died in his seventy-second year. He had taken his seat as
usual at breakfast, and having eaten an egg as he used to
do, and feeling still a good appetite, he called for another ;
but suddenly reclining his head in a musing posture, he
said, "Hold, daughter, my Master calls me T' He lost his
siMit in a few moments ; but callino' for the Bible, he told
them to open it at the eighth chapter of the Romans, at
these words : " For I am persuaded that neither death nor
life shall be able to separate me from the love of God
which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." " Now," said the
venerable man, ** put my finger on these words ;" and being
told that it was, he said, " Now, God be with you, my dear
children ; I have breakfasted with you, and I shall sup with
my Lord Jesus Christ this night." And saying this, he
gently fell asleep. Scot's Worthies, p. llT.
35. James Durham was chaplain to King Charles I.,
and minister of the high church of Glasgow. On his dying
bed he was at first in much darkness of mind. He said to
a friend, " For all that I have preached and written, there
is but one Scripture I can think of, or dare to lay hold of ;
tell me, brother, if I may dare lay the weight of my salva-
tion on it : ' Whosoever cometh to me, I ivill in noiuise cast
out.'" ''That you may depend on," said the minister in
reply, " though you had a thousand salvations at hazard."
Having remained some time in silence, in great bodily pain,
but wrestling in faith and prayer, he at length came joy-
fully from beneath the dark cloud, and cried in a rapture
of joy, " Is not the Lord good ? Is he not infinitely good?
See, how he smiles ! I do say it, and I do proclaim it."
Scot's AVorthies, p. 1*79, etc.
36. Samuel Rutherford, one of the most resplendent
lights that ever rose in Scotland, was the professor of di-
vinity in the university of St. Andrew's. When the parlia-
ment of Scotland summoned him for trial because he stood
up for hberty and religion, he was on his dying bed. *'Tell
VOL. riTi. 31
22 DYING TESTIMONY OF
the parliament," said he to the messenger, "that I have
received a summons to a higher bar ; I must needs answer
that first ; and when the day you name shall come, I shall
be where feAv of you shall enter." In his last moments he
said to ministers around him, " There is none like Christ.
O, dear brethren, pray for Christ, preach for Christ, do all
for Christ ; feed the flock of God. And 0, beware of men-
pleasing." Having recovered from a fainting fit, he said,
"I feel, I feel, I believe, I joy, I rejoice, I feed on manna ;
my eyes shall see my Redeemer, and I shall be ever with
him. And what would you more ? I have been a sinful
man ; but I stand at the best pass that ever a man did.
Christ is mine, and I am his. Glory, glory to my Creator
and Redeemer for ever. Glory shines in Immanuel's land.
O for arms to embrace him ! O for a well-tuned harp !"
He continued exulting in God his Saviour to the last, as
one in the full vision of joy and glory.
37. The noble Marquis of Argyle, whom the Scottish
church piously numbers among her martyrs, sacrificed all
for Christ's cause. On the morning of his execution, while
busied in settling his worldly business, he was so overpow-
ered by a sensible effusion of the Holy Spirit, that he broke
out in a holy rapture, and said, " I thought to have con-
cealed the Lord's goodness, but it w^ll not do. I am now
ordering my affairs, and God is sealing my charter to my
lieavenly inheritance, and is just now saying unto me. Son,
be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee." When ad-
vancing to the scaffold where he was beheaded, he exclaimed,
*' I could die as a Roman, but I choose rather to die as a
Christian." See Scot's Worthies, and Wodrow.
38. -Mr. James Guthrie was a learned and godly min-
ister, the companion of the noble Argyle. He was the lead-
ing minister of the Presbyterian church in that afflictive
period, and was singled out as the next victim by Charles
II. He met his sufferino-s with Christian couraoe and
BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 23
cheerfulness. He dined with his friends on the day of his
execution ; after dinner he called for a little cheese, which
his physician had hitherto dissuaded him from using, as be-
ing not good for the gravel : " Now, my friends, I may use
it," said he with a smile, " for I am beyond the reach of
the gravel." His sufferings were occasioned purely by his
religion and his opposing the tyranny of the Stuart dynasty.
On the scaffold, after having fully enumerated the causes
of his suffering, he said, " I take God to record on my soul,
that I would not exchange this scaffold for the palace and
the mitre of the greatest prelate in Britain. Blessed be
God, who has showed mercy to me, and made me a minis-
ter of the everlasting Gospel. Jesus is my light and life,
my righteousness, my strength and salvation, and all my
desire. Him, 0 him do I commend with all my soul unto
you. Bless him, O my soul, now and for ever. N'ow, 0
Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine
eyes have seen thy salvation."
39. Hugh McKail, who was among the first victims in
the twenty-eight years' persecution in Scotland, was exe-
cuted in the twenty-sixth year of his age. His great influ-
ence and popular talents as a preacher made him an object
of jealousy. He closed his powerful and eloquent speech
on the scaffold, in these sublime and touching words : " Now
I leave off to speak any more to creatures, and begin my
intercourse with God for ever. Farewell, father and mother,
friends and relations ; farewell the world and all its delio-hts :
farewell food and drink; farewell sun, moon, and stars.
Welcome, God and Father ; welcome, sweet Jesus, the
Mediator of the New Testament ; welcome, blessed Spirit
of all grace, and God of consolations ; welcome glory, wel-
come eternal life, welcome death !" And having prayed a
few moments, he lifted his eyes to heaven and cried with a
loud voice, " 0 Lord, into thy hands I commend my spirit ;
for thou hast redeemed my soul, 0 Lord God of truth."
24 DYING TESTIMONY OF
And while uttering this prayer he was launched into
eternity.
40. James Renwick was the last that was martyred in
that persecution for "liberty, rehgion, and the covenants."
Like McKail, he was young, being only twenty-six years
of age when he suffered, and of distinguished talents and
oratory. On the scaffold he was repeatedly interrupted in
a brutal manner, by the tumultuous beating of the drums
stationed below the scaffold, in order to prevent the im-
mense multitude from hearing his speech, a custom peculiar
to those days. He smiled and said, " They will not let a
dying man be heard." His last words were, *' 0 Lord, I
die in the faith that thou wilt not leave thy church, but that
thou wilt make the blood of thy witnesses the seed of thy
church, and return again, and be glorious in our land. And
now, 0 Lord, I am ready." Then whispering to his friend
on whom he leaned, he said, "Farewell, be diligent in duty;
carry my love to my dear brethren in the furnace." Then
turning to the multitude, and lifting his eyes to heaven, he
cried, " Lord, into thy hands, I commend my spirit ; for
thou hast redeemed me. Lord God of truth. Amen."
41. Capt. John Paton. These heroic Christian exam-
ples were not confined to the ministers in that period.
Captain Paton, who served in the wars under Gustavus
Adolphus, and afterwards in the army of Scotland, was a
brave and judicious soldier. He died for his religion, and
in the defence of Scottish liberty. His last words on the
scaffold were, " I leave my testimony against the impious
usurpation of Christ's prerogative and crown. I solemnly
adhere to the whole work of reformation ; I forgive all my
persecutors and enemies, and pray God to forgive them.
I leave my dear wife and my six sweet children on the
Lord, the Father of the orphans and the widow's husband.
And now, farewell all worldly joys, farewell sweet Scrip-
tures, and preaching, and reading, and praying, and sing-
BELIEVERS AXD UNBELIEVERS. 05
ing. Welcome, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I desire to
commit my soul to thee in well-doing. 0 Lord, receive my
spirit." Thus fell one of the most gallant officers of the
Scottish army. Scot's Worthies, p. 396.
42. Claude, whose fame is in all the churches, was
exiled from France by the ferocious bigotry of Louis XIY.
His closing scene was truly affecting and instructive. Hav-
ing pronounced his solemn benediction on his spouse and
his son — an able minister of Christ — and on an as^ed do-
mestic, all kneeling at his bedside; and having committed
them to the God of the widow and fatherless, he uttered
these his last words : " I am so oppressed that I can attend
only to tivo of the great truths of religion, namely, the mercy
of God, and the gracious aids of the Holy Ghost. I know
in whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able
to keep that which I have committed to him • against that
day. Our Lord Jesus Christ is my only righteousness."
43. The pious Hervey thus closed his life, pouring out
his soul in prayer : " How thankful am I for death ! It is
the passage to the Lord and Giver of eternal life. 0 wel-
come, welcome death ! Thou mayest well be reckoned
among the treasures of the Christian ; to live is Christ, to
die is gain. Lord, now lettest thou thy serv^ant depart in
peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation."
44. Dr. Leechman, the venerable principal of the uni-
versity of Glasgow, when dying, thus addressed a youno-
nobleman : " You see my tranquilhty and composure : it is
joy, it is triumph ; it is complete exultation. And whence
does it spring? From the blessed Gospel contained in the
Holy Bible. It is that, it is that which makes us certain
that this mortal shall put on immortality."
45. The venerable Ralph Erskine, a faithful and de-
voted minister of the church of Scotland, was for a few
hours preceding his dissolution in great darkness and men-
tal distress. But, shortly before he died, he raised his
VOL. viii. 81=^
26 DYING TESTIMONY OF
hands, and clapping them, he exclaimed, "Victory, vic-
tory !" and soon after expired.
46. The pious Bishop Bedell, who has been styled
" the scourge of corruption, and the great luminary of the
Irish church," died as a man of God dies. Having blessed
his family, and addressed godly admonitions and instruc-
tions to his sons, he said, " I have waited for thy salvation,
O Lord." "I have fought the good fight, I have finished
my course." " Grievous wolves have crept in upon us ;
but the good Shepherd will take care of his sheep, and
they shall dwell safely. I have kept the faith ; for Avhich
cause I have suffered ; but I am not ashamed : I know
whom I have believed ; he will keep that which I have
committed to him against that day." Soon after he fell
asleep in Christ.
47. The immortal John Locke applied himself closely
to the study of the Holy Scriptures for the last fourteen
years of his life. To a young gentleman he said, " If you
would attain the true knowledge of the Christian rehgion,
study the Bible, especially the New Testament. The Bible
has God for its author, salvation for its end, and truth,
without any mixture of error, for its matter." On his
death-bed he exhorted all about him to study the word of
God. '* Blessed be God," said he, "for what the law has
shown to man ; blessed be his name for justifying him
through faith in Christ; and thanks be to thy name, O
God, for havinor called me to the knowledsre of the divine
Saviour."
48. Baxter closed his course full of the joys of the
Holy Ghost. To some ministers who Avere comforting him,
he said, " I have pains ; there is no arguing against sense ;
but I have peace, I have peace." "You are now drawing
near your long-desired home," said one. "I believe, I
believe," was his reply. When the question was put to
him, "How are you?" he promptly answered, ''Almost
BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 27
well.''^ To a friend who entered the chamber, he said, " I
thank you, I thank you for coming." Then fixing his eye
on him, he added, ** The Lord teach you how to die." These
were his last words.
49. John Janeway, a young minister of England, died
a triumphant death. Not a word dropped from him which
did not breathe of Christ and heaven. " 0, my friends,
stand and wonder : was there ever greater kindness ; were
there ever more sensible manifestations of grace ? 0 why
me. Lord, why me ? If this be dying, dying is sweet. Let
no Christian be afraid of dying: O, death is sweet to me;
this bed is soft : Christ's arms, his smiles, his visits, sure
they would turn hell into heaven. What are all human
pleasures compared to one glimpse of his glory, which
shines so strongly on my soul ? I shall soon be in eternity ;
I shall soon see Christ himself, who died for me, who loved
me, and washed me in his blood. I shall soon mingle in
the hallelujahs of glory. Methinks I hear the melody of
heaven, and by faith I see the angels waiting to carry me
to the bosom of Jesus. And I shall be for ever with the
Lord. And who can choose but rejoice in all this ?"
50. Matthew Henry. This famous and excellent divine
said to a friend a short time before his sudden death, " You
have been used to take notice of the sayings of dying men ;
this is mine : that a life spent in the service of God, and
communion with him, is the most comfortable and pleasant
life that any one can live in this world."
51. President Edwards died with as much calmness
and composure as if going to sleep. He was in the full
possession of reason to the last, and looked into eternity as
into his Father's house in the heavens. " Never did any
one more fully evidence the sincerity of his profession by
one continued, universal, calm, cheerful, and patient resig-
nation to the divine will, than he," said his physician. " Not
one murmur, not one whisper of his was heard indicating
28 DYING TESTIMONY OF
discontent. When some were deploring his departure as a
frown on the college, and as a heavy stroke on the church,
not being sensible that he heard them, he turned his dying
eyes on them, and said, ' Trust in God, and you need not
fear.' " These were the last words that this great and
pious divine spoke on earth.
52. The apostolical Whitefield uttered this noble sen-
timent when a Christian friend asked him what Jiis dying
testimony would be : " My dying testimony is this : I have
PREACHED Christ a living testimony ;" a sentiment per-
fectly in keeping with his zeal, his piety, his fervor, his
incessant labors in the ministry, and his wonderful success
in winning souls to Christ.
53. Dr. CoNDiCT, the president of Queen's, now Rut-
gers' college, New Jersey, was known to be much afraid
of death. But he died triumphantly. Feeling his end ap-
proaching, he raised himself up from his pillow, and stretch-
ing out his quivering hands, he said, " I have fought a good
fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith ;
henceforth is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which
the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me." He then
added, "Let us pray;" and having uttered a brief and
solemn prayer, he gently leaned back on his pillow, and
closing his eyes with his own hands, he soon after fell
asleep in Jesus.
54. Dr. DwiGHT, the president of Yale college, closed
a most useful and Christian life by a peaceful and happy
death. He requested his brother to read to him the 17th
chapter of John. While listening to the latter verses of
that chapter, he exclaimed, " O what triumphant truths !"
Some one recited to him a part of the 23d psalm, and
asked him, " Can you now say, though I walk through the
valley of the shadoiv of death, I iv ill fear no evil, for thou
art ivith me?'' He replied, " I hope so." He was occupied
a great part of his time in speaking ; from what could be
BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 29
gathered, it appeared that he was constantly engaged in
praj'er and adoration. He expired in peace, without a
struggle or a groan.
55. The Rev. Thomas Scott, the commentator, died in
1821. As a faithful minister, a judicious writer, and a holy
man, he had few equals. His dying bed may be said to
have been sublimely Christian. He exhibited an awful
sense of divine things, of the evil of sin, of the purity and
holiness of God. And notwithstanding his progress heav-
enward, what self-abasement he ever manifested ! " O
Lord, abhor me not," said he in fervent prayer, "though I
be abJiorrible, and abhor myself : say not, ' Thou filthy soul,
continue to be filthy still ;' but rather say, */ will, be thou
clean."' He longed much to be gone: "I am weary of
my journey, and wish to be at home, if it be God's will."
*' Ah, I had thought that I should close the sacred services
of this day," the Sabbath, "in heaven." A great part of
his time he prayed and thought aloud. On one occasion
he said, " Posthumous reputation : the veriest bubble with
which the devil ever deluded a wretched mortal ! But
posthumous tcsef Illness — ay, in that there is indeed some-
thing ; that was what Moses, the prophets, and the apostles
desired ; and most of all, the Lord Jesus Christ." Among
the last words he uttered were these : " Lord, support me ;
Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." To his weeping wife and
children he said, with tenderness, " Can any rational being
grieve at my departure? Well, nature will have its first
burst of sorrow, but you will soon learn to view it in its
true light." " Christ is my all. He is my only hope."
" 0 to realize the fulness of joy ; 0 to have done with
temptation !" " This is heaven begun ; I have done with
darkness for ever. Satan is vanquished. Nothing remains
but salvation with eternal glory, eternal glory !"
56. Jeremiah Evarts, so well knoAvn and beloved by
every friend of missionaries, died a triumphant death.
30 DYING TESTIMONY OF
When nearly exhausted, he expressed with great tender-
ness his affection for his Saviour ; and soon after broke out
into rapturous expressions : " Praise him, praise him, praise
him in a way which you know not of." Some one said to
him, " You will soon see Jesus as he is, and know how to
praise him." He replied, " O wonderful, wonderful, won-
derful glory ! We cannot comprehend — wonderful glory !
I will praise him, I Avill praise him ! Wonderful — glory —
Jesus reigneth !"
57. Mr. Halyburtox was one of the most learned di-
vines of Scotland, and professor of divinity in the university
of St. Andrews. The ablest of his writings is his " JVatu-
ral Religion insufficient, and Revealed necessary to Mans
ha'ppiness.'' He wrote against Lord Herbert, the father of
the English deists ; and was the first who carried the war
into the enemy's camp, showing the absurdity and futility
of the deist's system. The chief of his practical works is
his " Great Concern.'' He w^as a truly devoted Christian,
and he breathed out his soul to God in a triumphant death.
The following were his last words : "■ I dare look death in
the face, in its most ghastly shape, and hope soon to have
the victory over it. Glory, glory to him. O what of God
do I see ! I have never seen any thing like 'it. The begin-
ning and the end of religion are wonderfully sweet. I long
for his salvation ; I bless his name, I have found him. I
am taken up in blessing him ; I am dying, rejoicing in the
Lord. Oh, I could not have believed that I should bear,
and bear cheerfully, as I have done, this rod, which hath
lain on me long. This is a miracle. Pain without pain.
You see a man dying ; a monument of the glorious power
of astonishing grace." Some time after he said, "When I
shall be so weak as no longer to be able to speak, I will, if
I can, give you a sign of triumph when I am near to glory."
He did so; for when one said, "I hope you are encourag-
ing yourself in the Lord," being now unable to speak, he
BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 31
lifted up his ha7ids and clapped them, and in a few moments
expired.
58. Mr. Augustus M. Toplady closed a long and emi-
nently holy life by a very triumphant death. He said, " 0
how this soul of mine longs to be gone : like an imprisoned
bird, it longs to take its flight. 0 that I had the wings of
a dove, I should flee away to the realms of bliss, and be at
rest for ever. I long to be absent from the body and pres-
ent with the Lord." At another time he said, " 0 what a
day of sunshine has this been to me. I have no words to
express it ; it is unutterable. 0, my friends, how good our
God is. Almost without interruption his presence has been
with me." Being near his end, having awakened out of
sleep, he said, " 0 what delights : who can fathom the joys
of the third heavens !" And just before he expired, he
said, " The sky is clear ; there is no cloud : come> Lord
Jesus, come quickly."
59. Dr. Edward Payson was an eminent Christian, a
devoted and faithful minister of the Lord. He had a fine
mind, a charming imagination, and an ardent love to his
Master. He died a triumphant death. "A young man,"
said he, " when about to leave the world, exclaimed, ' The
battle's fought, the battle's fought, but the victory is lost
for ever !' But I can say, the battle's fought, the battle's
fought, and the victory is ivon I The victory is ivon for
ever ! I am going to bathe in an ocean of purity, and be-
nevolence, and happiness, to all eternity." He was heard
to express himself in the following soliloquy: "I am a
Christian — what then ? Why, I am a redeemed sinner ; a
pardoned rebel. I am a Christian — what then ? Why, I
am a temple of God ; I ought surely to be pure and holy.
I am a Christian — what then ? I am a child of God, and
ought to be filled with filial love, joy, and gratitude. I am
a Christian — what then ? Why, I am a disciple of Christ,
and must imitate him who was meek and lowlv of heart.
32 DYING TESTIMONY, ETC.
I am a Christian — what then ? Why, I am an heir of God,
and hastening on to the abodes of bliss in the skies." Again,
"Hitherto I have viewed God as a fixed star; bright indeed,
but often intercepted by clouds. But now he is coming
nearer and nearer ; and he spreads into a sun so vast and
so glorious, that the sight is too dazzling for flesh and blood
to sustain." On one occasion, Avhen laboring under very
acute pains, he exclaimed, " These are God's arrows, but
they are sharpened with love." Once he exclaimed, " Vic-
tory, victory! Peace, peace!" Looking on his wife and
children, he said, " I am going, but God will surely be with
you." The last words he was heard to whisper were these :
"Faith and patience, hold out."
It is worthy of being noticed, that he gave instructions
that after he was dead and laid out, the following label
should be laid on his breast, that every one might read it
as he took a last look of their pastor's remains : " Remem-
ber THE WORDS WHICH I SPAKE UNTO YOU WHILE I WAS YET
PRESENT WITH YOU."
And now who that is in his right mind, will not say,
"Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end
he like his ?"
IVo. 387.
THE
GENERAL'S WIDOW.
A TRUE NARRATIVE.
BY V7". 0. BEOWNLEE, D. D.
Brother, we ai-e only lialf awate : we are none of us naore than
half awake — Legh Richmond.
In 1817, I was called, in the providence of God, to take
the pastoral care of the church of . It is situated in a
rich and beautiful valley, with a chain of mountains sweep-
ing round it in a semicircle ; and, for many miles around, all
the families of a dense population, with the exception of one
or two, belonged to that congregation. Among them was
the family of General , one of the first agriculturists of
the country
VOL. VIII. 32
2 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW.
When I entered on my pastoral duties the general had
deceased, being comparatively a young man when he died.
His family was still in mourning for the bereavement ; and
on the Sabbath, his widow and nine beautiful children, in
their deep weeds, attracted the respectful notice and sym-
pathy of all who entered the church. The general and his
lady had both descended from a race of intelligent and pious
Christians. The colonel, his father, had been no less noted
for the gallant spirit and patriotism of his youth, than for
enlightened and fervent piety in his advanced years. And
the general's lady was among the best educated and most
accomplished women of her native county.
But the general had been one of the unhappy victims
of error who had been seduced from the ways of the God
of his fathers, about the time when infidelity, in its most
rude and degraded form, with the noted Thomas Pai7ie at
its head, made a struggle to gain an ascendency in many
parts of our country. " The Age of Reason'' had with him
displaced the Holy Bible, and he drank in those polluted
streams until, being perfectly intoxicated with error, he cast
off fear and restrained prayer, and openly denied the God
of his fathers.
It was on a delightful morning in May, 181-, — I remem-
ber it as distinctly as if it had been yesterday — one of the
elders of the church came to desire me, as soon as practi-
cable, to visit the general's widow.
"Ah, sir," said he, as tears filled his eyes, "the poor
woman has not long to live, and she knows it not. And 0,
sir, she is ill prepared to die."
In a short time we were on our way, he having kindly
volunteered to accompany me to her mansion.
Our ride lay through the beautiful farms of the late
General L d S g; laid out in square fields of great
extent, highly cultivated ; with orchards abounding in eveiy
variety of fruit-trees, particularly of grafted English cher-
ries, of no less than twelve varieties ; and luxuriant fields
of grain, affording happy promise to the labors of the hus-
bandman. We soon crossed the bridge over the dark
THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 3
P , and ascended the romantic hill which forms its
lofty bank. From its summit, which we soon reached,
there is a lovely prospect of ten or twenty miles around.
All nature was in the glory of spring : the very air was
perfumed with the delicious blossoms on every hand.
"What a happy world this would be," said the elder,
** if our souls, being pmified from sin, did so rejoice in the
presence of God as he makes all things smile around us !"
" Yes, my friend ; but it is the sanctified and well-regu-
lated mind alone, prepared for the Master's service, which
has the capacity of really enjoying his presence in the beau-
ties of nature. That congenial soul sees him in every leaf,
and bud, and beautiful flower ; hears and adores him in the
whisperings of the breeze, the murmuring of the brook, the
music of the songsters, as well as in the rushing of the
cataract, and the roaring of the mountain storm. He sees
him and adores him in every thing. The guilty mind is at
enmity with God, and by such a one, the presence of God,
in the glorious works of his hands, is neither seen nor
appreciated."
"Ah, sir," said he, "that was what the good old colonel
would often say to his son, whose widow's mansion we are
now approaching. ' I tell thee, boy,' the old Christian
would say, 'infidelity paralyzes the noble powers of man,
and renders him blind, and deaf, and dead to the joys of
God's presence in the kingdom of nature as well as of grace.
Age of reason, Ha ! The age of folly, of mental degrada-
tion, and of little men. Why, I tell thee, it requires a clear
head and a pure heart to be able to take up the argument
of TRUTH. The profane scoffer of the Paine school cannot
comprehend the delicacy and force of divine reasoning on
the goodness of God in nature, and his pure and overpow-
ering love in grace.' Another time, when his son was
venturing his doubts touching the Gospel, the colonel
exclaimed, ' Doubts, my poor boy ! Seest thou that bright
sun pouring down his glorious beams ? Seest thou those
brilliant fields and meadows glowing in their living and
breathing beauty under the present Deity ? All these —
4 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW.
aye, and my own senses, can I sooner doubt and mistrust,
than doubt the love of my God and Redeemer in the king-
dom of his providence and grace.' "
We were now entering the long avenue which led up to
the house, lined on each side with rows of cherry-trees,
now in all the magnificent beauty of their white and purple
blossoms.
" I am not quite sure," said I, *' whether our A'isit here
will be welcome."
"I am not sure that it will," said the elder; ''but what
then ? We must never think of measuring duty by such
considerations as those which move the men of the world."
" You are right," said I. " But tell me, you often vis-
ited the late general in company with my venerable prede-
cessor Dr. F , how were you received in your visits to
his death-bed ?"
"Always courteously," said he; ** but never recognized,
I rather think, as Christians. And often has the pastor
observed to me, that he never met with a more deeply
confirmed infidel. Sir, I witnessed the last interview : it
took place on a Saturday. The minister spent several
hours at the death-bed of the general ; he saw that the
last sands of life were fast falling — he died on Monday fol-
lowing—and his anxious soul was in an agony to win him
over, if such was the will of God.
" But no argument, no appeal, no prayer, no tears moved
him from his infidel principles, or seemed to shake his con-
fidence. Let no man tell me this was the fruit of the infi-
del's faith, which, like the reviving and exhilarating hopes
and faith of the Christian, in his creed and in his Redeemer,
was now sustaining the hope and confidence of his soul.
Ah, sir, I knew the contrary. I was his near neighbor ;
I saw him oftener than the pastor, and in his last hours,
oftener than his infidel associates. I saw him in the mid-
night hours, and in his unguarded moments ; I heard him
utter thoughts that came fresh from an unveiled and burn-
ing spirit. I saw him — I knew him to be a miserable man ;
but not more so than any other infidel. Au infidel die
THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 5
happy ! A happy philosophic death ! Die as a philosopher
dies ! Can any rational being believe what the infidel him-
self does not, and cannot himself believe? An immortal
spirit leave its heaven here, and go away into an unknown,
dark, dismal oblivion ! Even on its own principles it cannot
die happy, without its firm belief in an incredible miracle ;
namely, that a great and polished philosophic soul can be
perfectly willing, that is, happy to give up all the heaven
it has, for a dark, unknown, hated, and horrid oblivion.
Another proof that infidels are not only the most credulous,
but absolutely the most duped of all the children of men.
For the general, he would yield to no argument ; he was
too proud in spirit : he never had hitherto flinched. But,
ah, on that Saturday I saw him yield; and I witnessed the
confession which, to this day, is well known over our valley.
But it was the mere yielding of parental feeling.
" ' Well, general,' said the minister, as we rose to go,
* time speeds its course ; I must take my leave of you,* He
took him by the hand. ' Farewell ; I shall never see you
more, until you and I stand at the judgment-seat of eternal
Justice: farewell.' He paused; the general still kept a
hold of his hand. ' Ere I go, I have one question to ask
you,' said the pastor : he paused again, and turning, cast
his eyes around the circle of the general's sons, his daugh-
ters, and his weeping wife : the general's eyes wandered
after those of the pastor, over the dear and interesting
group. 'Now, hear me,' said the minister; 'my question
is this : Is it your will, now, in your last moments, that
these dear and beloved beings should follow the minister,
or yourself f
" The general looked first at the pastor with an earnest
eye, as if to penetrate into his soul : he saw that he was in
earnest, for tlie tears rolled in silence over his cheeks : he rap-
idly glanced at the circle of his dear children and spouse : he
heaved one deep sigh as he clasped his hands on his breast ;
then resuming his hold of the pastor's extended hand, he
said with a solemnity which I never heard from the genera]
before, ' It is my will that they follow the minister.'
VOL. VIII. 32*
C THE GENERAL'S WIDOW.
" ' Then let me offer up my last prayer at your death-
bed,' said the minister, as he threw himself on his knees.
And 0, sir, he did pour out his soul in such fervent wrest-
lings as I never witnessed before : all of us wept, except
the general. He appeared confounded and bewildered ;
he seemed conscious that his creed was untenable ; he did
seem like one looking out for some fearful and undefinable
disaster ; his reason seemed to reel ; but his pride, shall I
call it, or obstinacy, prevented him from humbling himself
at the throne of grace. He seemed like one given up of
God and of man. And he died as he had hved, I fear.
And this desperate outbraving of all entreaties and remon-
strances of conscience, this reckless clinging to his ship-
wrecked hope, and defiance of the justice of God his Judge,
has tended to harden his family in unbelief, and to efface
from their memory all the admonitions, and prayers, and
tears of the minister. But here we are at the door,"
added my friend, " and may God give you wisdom, my
dear pastor, to win over to Christ the souls of this desolate
family." "Amen," said I, in the extreme anxiety of my
spirit, as we advanced to the chamber of the general's
widow.
We found her silting up ; but her once beautiful form
was wasting away under the disease that was consuming
her vitals. She received us with the utmost pohteness and
kindness. But we soon discovered that it would be impos-
sible to eno^ao-e her in devout, or even serious conversation.
She contrived to resist every attempt to direct her atten-
tion in good earnest, to the necessary preparation to meet
her Judge. And she abruptly put an end to all our sug-
gestions by a remark of this kind : that "her dear husband
died in the belief which she held ; such a good man could
not be miserable. And as for herself, she never could wish
to go to a better place than where he was!"
We parted from her with a heavy heart. I had utterly
failed of delivering my message ; and at this, and also the
second visit, not even the permission was conceded to us of
joining in prayer with her.
THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 7
As I approached the house on the day of my third visit,
I felt my mind exceedingly agitated. Here, thought I, is
an interesting immortal being now very near the verge of
eternity, and, alas, utterly unprepared ; and not only so, but
this noble spirit of hers is filled with bitter enmity against
the cross of Christ.
I found her alone : she was now confined to her bed ;
and the hectic spot on her pale cheek indicated that her
days were nearly numbered. She gave me a cordial wel-
come, and thanked me for this token of respect in coming
again so soon. I blessed the Lord for this favorable oppor-
tunity, and in secret implored of him wisdom and skill to
do my duty at this critical moment. A long and painful
silence followed. At length she broke it, by asking, " Is
not God goodness itself, goodness in his very nature? Am
I wrong in believing also, that he has implanted in every
soul the unquenchable hope of happiness ? And who will
say that infinite goodness will blast the hope which he
himself has nursed and ripened in us?"
This opened a fruitful theme of discussion for at least
an hour. The following dilemma was respectfully placed
before her : " Madam, how do you know that God is good-
ness itself? If from the demonstrations of nature and prov-
idence, then from the same evidence do we learn infallibly,
that he is infinitely just and awfully severe. You have
only to look abroad over the w^orld's history, and contem-
plate the tremendous exhibitions of his justice in the endless
train of the terrible scourges which have swept the men of
many generations off the earth. Do these prove simply his
unmingled goodness ? Again, if you seek your proof from
the holy Scriptures, there we are taught that ' He who is
good and merciful, will by no means clear the guilty.' " And
the argument against universal happiness was closed by
submitting to her vigorous mind these ttvo ideas.
" If you choose to decide the matter by the full and
most complete evidence draw^n from Scripture, then is it
obvious that the inspired writer, who uses the same word
in Matt. 25 : 46, to express the eternity of the wicked man's
8 THE GENERAL' S WIDOW.
punishment, and that of the righteous man's glory in heaven,
without giving us any intimation of his using it in an infi-
nitely different sense in the same sentence, has decided the
point that the second death of the one party is as endur-
ing and endless as is the life of the other party. The
objection that 'everlasting' is applied to the hills and ma-
terial things, has no force here. To whatever object it is
applied, it always means the longest possible existence of that
object. Here it is applied to the immortal soul, immaterial
and ever-enduring : to that this punishment will cling as
long as the soul exists ; that is, for ever and ever. And
hence, in perfect accordance with this, the punishment of
the wicked is pronounced by God to be 'everlasting,' after
temporal duration has ceased, and after eternity has com-
menced. 2 Thess. 1 : 8, 9, etc.
" And, madam, if you choose to settle the point by rea-
son, aided by revelation, then you must admit that God will
not confer happiness on sinners as long as their sin and im-
penitence continue. But inasmuch as they die impenitent,
and hence descend into eternity full of sin, and. still sinning ;
and inasmuch as neither God, nor themselves, nor any other
being will convert them after death, they will continue to
hate God and sin against him just as they did before death ;
and as sin goes on in its self- perpetuating virulence, they
will rebel against the most Holy One for ever and ever.
Hence, they keep themselves out of heaven, that is, they
keep themselves in hell, for ever and ever.
" Besides, Universalists and Infidels are usually believers
in freewill, in its unlimited acceptation. I pray you, then,
madam, how can you, or any of them, pretend to justify
God, if he were to compel these unconverted men, against
their determination to the contrary, into a holy heaven, a
place which they have all their lifetime abhorred, and which
they will as heartily abhor as ever, to all eternity ?"
This address I uttered in the mildest terms I could.
Her danger excited in me feelings of the intensest earnest-
ness. The effect of these plain and simple truths was visi-
ble. There was a solemnity in her words, and in her whole
THE GENERAL'S VViDO.V. 9
deportment, which I had not witnessed hitherto. 0 my
God, I thank thee that I am not without some hope that
the Spirit of the Lord is visiting her in mercy. Breathe on
her, O blessed Spirit !
The following propositions I put into her hand as I left
her.
1. There is no power or virtue in sinful man, which
can efficiently lead him to peace with God and true hap-
piness.
2. To deny a communication from heaven, on the sup-
position that God has the intention of showing mercy and
favor to us, is actually an impeachment of the divine good-
ness. The infidel system is cruel : on the face of its very
first principle, it brings a solemn impeachment against the
divine goodness and pity.
3. It is our duty faithfully to determine by a close ex-
amination, whether it be by argument, or by delusion and
depravity, that we are induced to continue in hostility to
God our Maker, and to hate the Holy Bible.
4. No man nor power on earth can prove what the infi-
del affirms ; namely, that the Bible is not a genuine revela-
tion from heaven.
5. No man can call Jesus Lord, or give the Bible the
reception of true faith, but by the Holy Ghost.
This visit was closed Avithout prayer, it having been
declined by her. She noticed the pain which her refusal
caused, and retained my hand for several seconds ; and I
hurried away to conceal my emotions. Her mind, I knew,
was not prepared to have these services urged, far less
forced upon her. 0 gracious Master, grant me spiritual
skill, wisdom, and patience to do thy work aright ; deliver
me from a furious zeal without knowledge ; free me equally
from the spirit of indolence, coldness, and negligence in
duty.
As soon as practicable, I hastened to renew my visit.
I found her in company with her daughters and two grown
up sons. She was fast fading away, like the sere leaves of
autumn, or the snow before the April sun.
10 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW.
" Sir," said she, as by her request I took my seat close
to her, " I own myself overcome by those dilemmas which
you placed before my mind. ' The sim^jle truth of God is
overwhelming.' That expression of yours, dropped occa-
sionally the other day, I cannot get rid of. Yes, I must
even admit — my conscience will not let me equivocate — if
the Bihle he true, then Vnivej'salism, in which I have taken
refuge is false — age, utterig false / This is now my delib-
erate opinion : yes, my children, by the civil law, the delib-
erate murderer must die ; that is to say, be cut off for ever
from this life, for ever from his family, for ever from all
earthly happiness. I should insult my reason, and never
regain self-respect, did I conclude otherwise. If the Bihle
he true, then am I sure Universalism is false as Satan.
But then, the Bible — I cannot, I will not, I never can
believe it to be a revelation from heaven. Oh, I can-
not "
I made no reply until she was restored perfectly to
self-possession. Her fine mind, which knew no disguise,
here betraj^ed, without concealment, one of the usual and
very natural feelings of one who has unhappily been se-
duced by the impious sophistry of the infidel. In its des-
perate efforts, the unsettled mind hurries from one false
refuge into another, plunging deeper and deeper at each
retreat. She had been strong in her confidence in Univer-
salism : the lingering remains of her respect for the Bible
were owing to her being taught this sentiment : the delu-
sion had rapidly vanished under the light of reason, con-
science, and the plain exhibiting of divine truth : and the
deep current of hatred, quickened by the disappointment,
was directed, in all its force, against the Holy Bible.
I endeavored to draw her attention to the necessity of
a divine revelation, and exhibited in a plain manner the
usual arguments on this point, taken chiefly from Home's
Introduction. And I concluded, by illustrating the second
proposition, which I had submitted to her consideration at
a former meeting.
*' Do you beheve that God is good?" "Undoubtedly
THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. H
he is," she replied. "Do you believe that God intends to
be merciful and gracious to us ?" "I do believe it." " Then,
my dear madam, if you admit all this, and yet obstinately
deny that God has spoken to us one kind word, or one
cheering promise, you take away the very basis of this
belief; you have thence no ground of faith, nor of the
humblest hope in mercy, or pity, or love, from him. In
fact, you impeach his goodness and mercy. And that ma-
lignant being who goes about to compass the ruin of
immortal souls, could alone counsel and devise such a
horrid scheme."
She turned her head round on the pillow, and placing
her hand on her brow, remained some time in deep medita-
tion. *'Ah, dear madam, who can have persuaded you
that our heavenly Father, who intends to be so merciful
and gracious to us, does, nevertheless, never utter one
word of peace — never send one ray of light — never make
one communication from heaven to us? Believe it who
will, I cannot. None but the heai-tless infidel can cherish
an idea so melancholy, and so opposed to divine goodness."
" I cannot, I do not believe the Bible ; it is no revela-
tion from heaven," cried she, waving her hand and turning
her face away from me. A long and painful silence en-
sued. I implored in secret that the Master would give me
prudence, and the tongue of the wise who win souls to
Christ. Then, as if nothing had fallen from her lips, I
begged her permission to review the fourth proposition
formerly submitted to her. "With your leave, my dear
madam, I shall presently examine the evidence of the Holy
Bible, external and internal ; but there is a previous ques-
tion with you. Are you aware that the infidel school can
never prove what they assert, namely, that the Bible is not
a revelation from heaven. ^'^
This excited her deep attention. I went on. " Have
you, or any of all your school, from Celsus down to the
humblest writer of the canaille, searched this sacred vol-
ume itself critically, historically, in the originals, or in its
various translations ? No one who has not done this has
12 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW.
any claim to be heard, or even to be reckoned a sensible
believer in the infidel creed. Have your champions searched
all the evidence of the Jews, and their writings ? Have
they searched all the evidence attainable from every Chris-
tian in the world ? Have you conversed with angels, and
collected the evidence that those pure intelligences can
communicate ? Have you sought out all the evidence
attainable from departed spirits now in heaven, or from the
doomed spirits now in hell ? No. Then your researches
for evidence, even after all the labors of thousands of years,
can scarcely be said to have yet begun. Now, until this
infinity of sources be perfectly examined, no one of you
can have faith in the infidel creed. You may imagine a
faith and a peace of mind. You may stifle conscience. But
if you only act as reasonable beings, you must ever be in
a state of agonizing doubt. Hence, there can be no peace,
no joy. You must, in fact, cease to think or act as rational
beings, and you must drown your noble powers in the per-
dition of this world's profligacy before you can cease to
feel the agonies of remorse. And even all these are
wretched opiates, out of the sleep of which you will one
day awake to acuter and more horrible agonies."
Both of her sons, who had imbibed infidel opinions,
had come close up to us, and were listening with deep
attention. At the close of the argument, they cast an
anxious and searching look on each other, and then on their
mother ; while her eyes were scrutinizing their looks, as if
imploring their aid against these dilemmas. They were
agitated, but remained silent.
** If you discover any defect in this argument, young
gentlemen, you will confer a favor on me to name it ; but if
there be truth in it, 0, in the fear of your Maker, I beseech
you, resist it not. We can have no interest, either of
us, in being deceived in a matter of this solemn impor-
tance."
For the first time, I saw a tear quivering in the mother's
eye, and steahng down her faded cheek. *' O, my God,"
said I, in the secret agony of my heart, " break, break in
THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 13
pieces this hard and flinty heart. O, is not thy word as a
fire and a hammer?" I rose to take my leave, not wishing
to check this first flowing- of emotions from the flinty rock :
she retained my hand for some moments: there was a
mental struggle. "Oh, you will not go away thus — you
will surely pray with us," said she, with a sweet and im-
ploring look. " Blessed be the Lord, who has heard us, and
put this at last into your heart," said I, with emotions which
I could not overcome- I felt as if a ray of hope had burst
through the dark gloom, and beamed on this beloved being,
for whom our souls had been in travail. We kneeled down
by her bed ; and Oh, I thought I felt the reviving presence
of the Holy Spirit with us in prayer, and believed his
power was awakening deep convictions in her for whom our
souls were poured out. And yet, when I bethought me of
the deceitfulness of the heart, and in a special manner, the
fearful malignity of the spirit of deism, I seemed to hope
against hope ; while I cried unto God, and said, " Come
from the four winds, 0 Spirit of the Lord, and breathe
upon this dying mother and her family."
At the next visit I was grieved to find her tender im-
pressions gone, or carefully concealed ; and I thought with
pain of that message of the Lord, " Your goodness is as
the morning cloud ; and as the early dew it goeth away."
O my God, slay the enmity of this sin-stricken heart by the
sharp sword which issueth out of thy mouth, even thy
living .and powerful word.
At this and the following visit, by her leave, I went
over the evidence of the authenticity and divinity of the
Holy Bible. I conducted her active and acute mind over
the hidorical evidence. She listened with attention and
eagerness to the testimony of the Christian fathers, from
Augustine back over the early centuries, and up to the
apostolical fathers ; ^vhile I demonstrated to her that not
onlv all these, but that heathen writers also, and ojyponents,
such as Celsus, Porphyry, and Julian the Apostate, freely
quoted these books called the Bible, as genuine and au-
thentic wiitings. Every ancient an tar/on i'-'t admitted these
VOL. VIII. 33
14 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW.
hooks of the Bible to have been loritten by the men whose
names they bear.
" The inspired writers possessed the gift of tongues and
the power of working miracles : they healed the blind, the
maimed, the lame, and raised the dead. All this was done
publicly before the church and their enemies. And having
thus established their divine mission from God, they pre-
sented publicly to the church the books written by them,
as the accredited messengers of God. Thus the miracu-
lous powers and gifts established the fact of their apostolical
commission from God : this was their grand object. And
the fact of their being the authors of these books was
established by the living and credible witnesses, even all
Christians, in their days, who received these books publicly
from their hands, and deposited them in their archives, and
transmitted the autographs to their children. Now, when
these books of the New Testament were written, there
were hundreds of thousands of Christians alive : these with
one voice declared that they saw the apostles work mira-
cles : ' We knew them, and believed most truh^ that they
were sent of God : we know these books to have been given
by them, for we received them as a public deposit, and as
such we transmit them to our children.'
*' No one book, nor even a single sentence, could be added
to these inspired books without speedy detection. This
could not happen in the apostles' lifetime : they were alive
to expose to the church the imposture. This could not
happen after their decease ; for by this time copies were
multiplied, and the holy Scriptures were in every church in
Asia, Europe, and Africa. In fact, dear madam, it would
be as easy and as practicable to add a new chapter or a
new sentence to the common law of the land, or to a na-
tional charter, or to abstract from them, as it would have
been to palm a new book of holy writ, or even one sen-
tence, on the watchful church of God."
Here we were interrupted, and at her request I closed
with prayer ; and with many tears she was commended to
God, the great and good Shepherd of Israel, who gathers
THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 15
the wandering sheep from " all places whither they have
been driven in the cloudy and dark day."
In a few days my visit was renewed with an interest
now daily increasing. I met her physician, who whispered
in my ear to take com-affe : *' She has at lena^th commenced
a dilio-ent readino- of the Bible : her attendant reads to her
o o
as long and as often as her weakness can sustain it. But it
is singular," added he ; "she will hear only out of the Old
Testament.^'
After an affectionate salutation from her, with her per-
mission I proceeded in the examination of the internal evi-
dence of the Scriptures : I pressed upon her attention the
evidence of their divinity, from the peculiar sublimity of
their conceptions of God and his perfections, and their spot-
less purity. "The genius and the wits of Greece and
Rome never, in one thought or conception, attained any
thing similar, far less equal to the sublimity of their con-
ceptions of God ; and never, in one instance, to any thing
resembling their spiritual purity. There is evidently some-
thing on the pages of the Bible altogether superhuman.
Unassisted human nature would let fall of necessity, as in
fact we see it invariably does in all matters and in all human
writings, the stain of its own impurity. Good men, having
the fear of God before their eyes in all things, could not
practise a deception on the world, and give out their own
impostures as from God. And most manifest is it, that no
wicked man could have conceived such pure and heavenly
doctrines in his mind ; far less, by any combination of his
associates, have formed a system breathing nothing but
spotless purity in morals and religion. And then notice
the perfect harmony of all the parts. These tracts which
compose the volume of the Bible, were written, some of
them, by kings and princes ; some by statesmen ; some by
peasants and herdsmen ; men living over a period of fifteen
hundred years, who never saw and never conversed with
each other. Such a perfect harmony in views and in sen-
timents, on any subject, existing among some fifty men,
even in our times, and who had even all seen and conversed
16 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW.
with each other, would absolutely be pronounced a miracle
by even the Deist.
" Their purity in waging a war of extermination against
all sin — even in the secrecy of the heart's emotions and
desires — and their irresistible efficacy in subduing the
hearts of the children of men, exhibit the proofs of their
divinity. They convert the passionate man into a lamb ;
the avaricious into benevolent Christians ; the timorous and
cowardly into courageous soldiers of the cross ; so that, at
the call of their Lord, they can despise fires and torments.
They have converted the lewd into pure and chaste persons ;
the cruel and bloodthirsty into kind-hearted and courteous
Christians ; the unjust, foolish, and notorious offender they
have rendered equitable, prudent, and hol}^ Nay, so great,
says Lactantius, in one word, is the force of divine wisdom,
that when infused into the heart, it expels, by a single effort,
folly, the mother of sin. And these are moral miracles,
which you and I witness weekly ; as the church has wit-
nessed them in all ages. In the days of the apostles, hun-
dreds of thousands, once vile and debased heathens, but
then clothed in the i*obes of righteousness and holiness,
stood up as the living witnesses of this irresistible power
of the Gospel, and of its moral miracles. And from that
period millions, in their successive generations, have borne
their testimony, Avith all the force of a moral demonstra-
tion, to the all-powerful influence of the blessed Gospel of
Christ. They have done — and done before th« eyes of the
shrewdest and most cunning oppoSers — what no human
eloquence, no human reasoning, no human persuasions, no
energy of philosophy, no created authority, or force, ever
could do. They have illumined the darkest minds ; sub-
dued and softened the hardest hearts ; overcome the most
obstinate pagan and idolater ; and returned them to society,
virtuous, pure, and holy men : they have soothed their men-
tal agony in the dying hour, and led them to rest and glory
in eternity. In a word, that has been done by them, which
God only does by his own selected means. Hence, the
seal of heaven's testimony is set to them, that they are
THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 17
God's most holy truths, used by him, and owned by him,
before all."
During this last address the widow was bathed in tears ;
and often uttered, in a low and tremulous moan, " O my
God. 0 my distracted soul. God, pity my weakness.
Mercy, 0 Lord, mercy on me ; and heal my blindness, if I
am in error."
Kneeling down, I once more mingled my tears with hers,
and offered our fervent supplications to the prayer-hearing
God for his quickening and forgiving grace to this broken-
hearted woman. I did feel as if I w^as now wrestling in hope.
" 0 heavenly Father, dissipate this dark cloud of sorrow :
bring in this poor wanderer : receive her to the bosom of
thy love. 0 God, say unto her, in the effectual workings
of thy free Spirit, Daughter, thou art loosed from thine in-
firmities ; go in peace. 0 bring her to the foot of the cross
of Christ : there let her be found sitting, clothed, and in
her right mind." And yet I could not resist the fearful
forebodings which came over my mind as I rode home. O
the fatal influence of infidelity; so congenial to corrupt
reason ; so soothing to the depraved heart ; so subservient
to the vicious desires and appetites ; so potent in its se-
ductions. I dared scarcely indulge a hope. " But 0, most
merciful Father, thy Spirit is able to subdue the most ob-
stinate heart : I present her at the foot of thy throne : O
descend. Holy Ghost, in thy subduing influences : renew
her soul : O pluck the brand from the flames. To thee I
commit her."
In a day or two I renewed my visit ; and at her request,
after prayer, I discussed with her the evidence of miracles
and projjhecy. She lent her deep and serious attention to
the subject.
I studied to remove her difficulties on miracles, and show
her that a miracle is just as susceptible of proof as any
other fact or public event of history. " Christ and his
apostles came before the public, and called on all men, in
the name of God, to believe the Gospel and repent of their
sins. In evidence of their divine mission, they invited all
VOL. VIII. 33*
18 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW.
to bring out their blind, their maimed, the impotent, the
dead ; and with a word they healed them all, instantane-
ously, and called the dead to life in the presence of their
foes. And in their appeals to the multitude they said.
We have cured all your diseased, and raised your dead,
now believe us as the accredited messengers of God : be-
lieve in Christ, who, by miracles performed by his own
unborrowed, underived power, has showm himself to be the
Son of God, come down to save the lost w^orld : believe in
our messages from him : believe in these our written testi-
monies, which we now publicly deliver to you, and leave
in the bosom of the church, to be transmitted to posterity.
**And they did so in the very seat of opposition, even
in Jerusalem. Within a few days after the descent of the
Holy Ghost at pentecost, there were many thousands con-
verted to the Christian faith in that city ; and no mean men
were they : there were among them some of the chief
priests, some of the chief men of the nation ; men who
had been witnesses of all the leading events in our Lord's
life and death ; and even those who had taken an active
part in his trial, and in putting him to death. These being
converted by the Spirit of God, stood up and publicly
declared that they had seen these miracles, and felt the
power of them on their own bodies, and on those of others
before their eyes. To suppose that so many of the most
intelligent persons in Jerusalem and Judea should thus be
imposed upon, and induced to declare publicly that they
believed wdiat they knew to be false, would, in fact, be the
supposition of a miracle greater in its very nature, and
surrounded with more difficulties than what any infidel,
even of the most extraordinary credulity, would care to
encounter. It is, in fact, an assertion by a few men no
ways w^orthy of credit, that several thousands of people, the
most virtuous in Jerusalem, and some of them the foremost
men of the nation> had all, without any accountable motive,
suddenly conspired to become an army of impostors."
I paused to give the Avidow or her sons time to reply ;
neither answer nor objection was offered.
THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. J 9
The discussion of the evidence drawTi from 'proiihecy
was taken up, and at her request continued at intervals, as
she was able to sustain it. We went over the field of
prophecy touching the Jews and other ancient nations, and
also those which respect events of a more recent date : we
pointed out instances of fulfilment in the New Testament
era, and also those now actually being fulfilled, relative to
Jews, and Mohammed, and popish Antichrist. See Home's
Introd., vol. 1, chap. 4, sect. 3.
I had observed more than once, in my intercourse Avith
this family, and indeed with all other Deists whom I had
met, that whenever we entered on cool and deliberate aro-u-
ment, on miracles, j^t'ojyhecy, or historical evidence, they
chose usually to say little, or nothing. It occurred to me
that, with a few exceptions, infidels are led by prejudice,
or a vitiated taste, or a depraved heart, to adopt their the-
ory ; and, with few exceptions, they contrive to keep them-
selves in it by scoffing or ridicule, and not imfrequently by
rude and boisterous merriment. Argument and investiga-
tion seem out of the question. They fulfil, to the letter,
the divine prediction, " There shall come in the last davs
scoffers, walking after their own lusts ;" there being many
things which they are "willingly ignorant of."
I availed myself of an opportunity of drawing the atten-
tion of the family to this ; and I was speedily convinced
that, of all their antipathies, no one is stronger than that
against the devoted " ministry.'" This occupied our atten-
tion, in a singular discussion, the most of an afternoon.
I asked a question for information — it was this : whether,
next to the ''minister,'" they did not feel an imconquerable
aversion to the peculiar ordinances of the Gospel, namely,
hajjtism and the Lord's supper ? They seemed surprised
at the question, but frankly admitted that they did ; that
they not only ridiculed them, as they did the priests, but
even detested them.
I replied that it would, to me, have been inexplicable,
if they had not hated them : and I went on to show them,
that this proceeds from a deep principle in the corrupt
20 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW.
heart, and is cherished by the master spirit who opposes
Christ.
I set out in the discussion, by insisting on the distinction
between the true pastor and the false pretender, the Ro-
mish priest : two beings as distinct as the lawful magis-
trate, and the fell despot. And by an appeal to reason
and history, and to the character and office of the two —
the one being the minister of Christ, the other the priest
of antichrist — I succeeded in removing much of the odium,
and, thence, very much of their prejudice. The "minis-
ter" comes not to lord it over the conscience ; not to per-
secute ; not to offer any new sacrifice " for the quick and
the dead :" " Christ, by his one sacrifice, has for ever per-
fected them that are sanctified." But he comes in the
meekness of an unassuming teacher : he relies on no civil
authority, no human power : he comes with no armor but
the armor of truth : he comes with no traditions and ordi-
nances of man : he appeals to the public documents of
Christianity — ** to the law and the testimony." Out of
these, lying open to every man's inspection, he reasons,
and teaches, and urges, not as a lordly tyrant, but as the
humble and devout follower of his divine Master.
" And the influence of their moral exertions and religious
labors in a nation are incalculable in their importance.
There is one nation set up as a beacon on the stormy ocean ;
I mean France, and she has the lesson before her, written in
blood. Had the Bourbons not destroyed the reformed min-
istry of France by a long series of persecutions — and thus
overthrown the spiritual guides of the people, and quenched
the lamps of truth — never would she, probably, have experi-
enced the reign of atheism and terror in the old revolution.
"Besides, my dear friends, the ministry exercise no
dominion, no deceptions of ' priestcraft ;' they usurp no
power not given to them from the word of God and the
voice of the people. It is the Christian community who
call out the ministry and sustain them. This the infidel
'is ivilfully ignorant of P " Tlrfs produced a deep sensa-
tion on the vouno' men.
THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 21
" Now, my friends, permit me to conduct you to the
main point — and one which you, I presume, have always
overlooked," said I, availing myself of Leslie's four rules,
in his Short Method with the Deists.
" We can demonstrate the truth and the facts of Christ's
miracles, resurrection from the dead, and the gospel system
and history, just as easily as you can, by national monu-
ments, demonstrate the fact of our national Declaration of
1776."
I paused. They begged me to proceed. " Let me have
your careful attention, then, to our four rules. 1st. The
matters of fact commemorated, must be such that maris
senses can be judges of them. 2nd. These deeds and facts
must have been publicly done, in the face of men. 3d. Not
only must public monuments have been set up, but certain
outward actions performed in memory of these events. 4th.
These monuments and outward actions must have been
instituted, and must have commenced, at the time when the
facts took place.
*'Now apply these four rules to the miracles of Moses
and his times, and to the miracles of Jesus Christ and his
times. Let us, in order to be brief, confine ourselves to the
last, namely, the miracles of Christ.
" In accordance with the first two rules, the miracles of
our Lord were palpable to men's senses, and publicly per-
formed before men : such as the raising of Lazarus from
the dead ; curing all manner of diseases, instantly, by a
word ; and finally, his own resurrection from the dead :
they Avere public, that is to say, before witnesses. Will you
admit this ?"
They nodded their assent with an interest which con-
vinced me that I was understood. I went on,
" Now, as the national rites of the Jews, and also the
dedication of the Levites to the office of the priesthood, were
the national monuments to perpetuate the knowledge of
these facts ; even so the gospel ministry^ and the holy
ordinances of the New Testament, are set up as the grand
monuments to commemorate the Saviour and his works.
22 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW.
The same eyes and the same ears that witnessed the mh-a-
cles of our Lord — and thousands witnessed them — saw
these evangelical monuments set up and coiTesponding
actions enjoined on their faithful observance. *'Do this in
remembrance of me." "Go ye and preach the Gospel to
every creature, baptizing them in the name of the Father,
and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost."
"And fourth, these monuments were set up at the very
date of those facts and miracles. And, like our own
national monuments of the fourth of July, and our repub-
lican magistracy, they have contmued to this day, in a
regular succession, in memory of these facts and events.
And I do aver, that it is just as reasonable to assert that
an impostor could persuade twelve millions of people that
they keep the fourth of July in memory of what never took
place, or could palm the body of our republican magistrates
on the American republic, under a charter which never
existed, as to maintain with the Deist, that the Gospel and
its institutions are the inventions of priestcraft.
" The Gospel is as much a law to the Christian churches,
as the laws of Moses were to the nation of the Jews. This
Gospel declares, on the face of it, that these monuments,
and the public office of the ministry, were appointed by
Christ; and are to continue in unbroken succession to the
end of time.
"Now, let us suppose, as the Deist does, that this Gos-
pel is a fiction; and, of course, invented. If invented in
ancient times, and put forth under the names of the apos-
tles, of course it must have been instantly detected by the
living apostles and their thousands of Christian converts.
In this era, then, they cannot date the age of the fiction.
If a fiction, then it must have been invented in some period
or other after Christ, and after the apostles had departed
this life. Now, mark it well : if invented after them, then,
at the time of the invention, there could be no public mon-
uments, no ministry of the Gospel, no baptism, no Lord's
supper, on the part of the Church, unless — what would be
an extraordinai-y supposition — the cunning impostor in ques-
THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 23
tion did actually, by a miracle, invent and make all these
public monuments ; and moreover did succeed in persuad-
ing all the Christian nations and people to believe that
they had actually been observing public rites, and had ac-
tually seen the gospel ministry publicly officiating- — when,
on the Deist's supposition, they did not, previous to that
moment, actually exist !
" On the other hand, if the cunning impostor who in-
vented the Gospel, appeared before men simply ^vith the
Gospel as a luritten record, unaccompanied by any monu-
ments, and without the clergy as its ministers, to expound
and teach ; then that Gospel bore on the face of it the evi-
dence of its own falsehood. It declares on its first pages,
that this gospel ministry and these holy ordinances did ex-
ist, and were used and celebrated by corresponding actions,
in all times of the Gospel ; and yet these very monuments
mentioned and appealed to by this impostor's gospel, were
never yet seen, and never yet heard of, on the Deist's alle-
gation !
" But here are monumental actions and official charac-
ters existing in the successive generations from our Lord's
resurrection : no man could palm these on the nations and
Christian churches — these hold forth the Gospel from
Christ; and their evidence is as irresistible and as decisive
in favor of the facts and truths of the Gospel, to say the
least, as the national monuments of our fourth of July, and
our Declaration of Independence, and our body of the
magistracy, prove, with irresistible demonstration, that we
did separate from England, and did establish a republic in
1776.
'' And hence, in conclusion — this being the grand end
of the monumental actions, and ofices — it is just as natural
that the great adversary of Christ and his truth should
stimulate into operation all possible hatred and malignity
against them, as that he should excite all possible opposi-
tion to the divine evidence of his holy word. If the chil-
•dren of infidelity and darkness did not persecute the ' jyriest-
hoocL' and hate the sncred ordinances of the Gospel, then
24 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW.
could the adversar}^ view unmoved, and without opposition,
all the grand and palpable evidence of God's Gospel by
these monuments. In one word, in proportion as Satan
and his emissaries pursue, with unrelenting malignity, the
ministry and the ordinances of Christ, so do they indicate
their perception and deep conviction that their existence is
an irrefragable evidence of the truth of the miracles and
facts on which the glorious Gospel is immovably based !"
The attention of the young gentlemen was excited by
this to the highest degree. It was evident that they never
had seriously examined into the nature, uses, or ends of
these evangelical monuments. And as they expressed some
anxiety to pursue this argument at length by themselves, I
put into their hands the original of Leslie's Short Way
WITH THE Deists.
The next week, when I renewed my visit, my good
friend, who had been with me at the last discussion, whis-
pered in my ear, as we approached the sick chamber,
" Sir, you must shoot lower !'''
I had not a moment to reflect on this hint, nor did I
conceive, at the moment, his meaning; in an instant we
were by the death-bed of the general's widow.
I found that she had been studying the New Testa-
ment, at last ; the Holy Bible lay open, on a small round
table by her bedside ; it was open at the seventeenth
chapter of John. She had been weeping over it : several
tear-drops still moistened the sacred leaves. Yet, in the
course of conversation with her on the state of her mind, I
could discover that we had only shaken her confidence — in
no small degree, it is true, in that deceitful system in which
she had been seeking repose. This was indeed much, but,
alas, there was the same cold and deathlike aversion of the
soul to Christ, and, I feared, an utter repugnance to his
precious doctrines, and an obstinate aversion to the yielding
up of her soul in submission to him.
These six weeks we had been laboring ; and yet little
progress, apparently, had been made. The words of the
elder now occurred to me : " / must shoot lower.''' Hith-
THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 25
erto I had been exhibiting the outworks of the Holy Bible :
now for its precious hidden treasures, its peculiar doctrines,
the doctrines of the cross ; now we come to close quar-
ters ; and may the Holy Spirit direct us. Amen.
At this and my next interview I drew her attention to
the nature of sin, viewed in the holy hght of God's spotless
purity and impartial justice. I dwelt on its terrible influ-
ence on the soul and the heart ; its bitter fruits ; its terrible
guilt, as committed against the Holy One. I endeavored
to bring before her mind its appalling evils, entailed on man
in this world ; its inconceivable terrors on a dying bed ; its
fearful retribution in the world to come. Behold the dis-
plays of God's holy indignation against sin ; behold his an-
ger against it, in all the evils w^hich infest our world — wars,
famine, pestilence, death in every appalling form : it has
turned the world into a Golgotha, and it has formed the
bottomless pit ! 0, who can conceive, who describe the
evil of sin — " the abominable thing which God hates !"
And opening the Bible, I repeated certain texts with the
solemnity befitting the subject. " God i& jealous, and the
Lord revengeth : the Lord revengeth, and is furious : the
Lord will take vengeance on his adversaries, and he reserv-
eth wrath for his enemies : he is slow to ano^er, and of
great power, and will not at all acquit the ivicked.'"
" Upon the wicked God will rain snares, fire and brimstone,
and a horrible tempest : this shall be the portion of their
cup." ** They shall be punished with everlasting destruc-
tion from the presence of the Lord and the glory of his
power — when he shall come to be glorified," etc. etc.
"I will gather you into the midst of the furnace, and I will
blow on you in the fury of my wrath, and I will leave you
there, and melt you." Ezek. 22 : 18-22. O then, "can
thine heart endure, can thy hands be strong in the day that
I shall deal with thee ? I the Lord have spoken it, and I
will do it." 0 wretched condition of the sinner ! God is
angry with him every day ; he hardeneth his heart against
his Maker: "he makes his brow as brass, and his neck a
sinew of iron !" " He hideth himself in his false refuges;
VOL. VIII. 34
26 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW.
lie flatters himself in his extravagant delusions : he saith in
his heart, there is no God ; there is no justice ; there is no
punishment ! He wars against conscience, and reason, and
God ; until the hatefulness of his iniquity is found out."
"A tempest stealeth him away in the night."
These alarming passages of God's word, and this appeal
sti-uck deep into her conscience : she had wept incessantly
on her sister's bosom from the time that we had entered on
this subject ; noAv her whole soul seemed to be bowed down
under the rod of God ; and often she moaned out, " 0 my
God, is there no hope? God be merciful to me a sinner!"
These touching exclamations led me instantly to the
exhibition of the Lord Jesus Christ and his atonement. I
drew her attention to the necessity of the atonement :
"Without shedding of blood there is no remission." To its
reality. Having the true and spotless matter of a sacrifice,
a holy human nature, he offered up his one sacrifice, and
once for all. " He was wounded for our transgressions ; he
was bruised for our iniquities ; the chastisement of our peace
was upon him, and by his stripes are we healed." "He
hath made him to be ' a sin oft'ering' for us, who knew no
sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in
him." And, finally, its perfection. "The Lord is well
pleased for his righteousness' sake : he will magnify the
law, and make it honorable." And now, "behold the
Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the world."
" 0 my God, I wish " She paused a long time.
"I wish I had known these things years ago. But now —
0, they are hid from mine eyes. I sinned against con-
science and early instruction — I have sinned against the
strivings of the Spirit. 0 how wickedly I strove against
him, and resisted him ! Now he has given me up — and
there is no hope! I would not hioiv these things because I
disbelieved the Bible."
I now hastened to lay the gospel call before her wound-
ed and broken heart; while I implored of God wisdom and
spiritual skill to guide her, and woo her heart to Christ.
The call of the Gospel I set before her, taking care that
THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 27
she should not lose sight of the fearful and just denuncia-
tions of the pure law of God. From the top of Sinai I bade
her hear the law : " Cursed is every one that continueth
not in all thifigs written in the book of the law to do them."
I pressed it on her conscience, while I implored of the
Holy Spirit that she might be "so kept under the law,'' as
to feel her utter helplessness from the deeds of the law ;
and that she might " he shut tip to the faith,'' hedged in
on every side, that being no longer left to go after false
refuges, and self-dependence, and legal hopes, she might
be ** shut up" to the one new and living way, " the faith of
Christ," the simple rehance on him alone.
I made a long pause, for my emotions had overpowered
me. I felt as if choked. I could not find utterance for
some moments. I thought of the misery of the sinner, and
her guilt. I thought of the infinite purity of divine jus-
tice, with which all sinners do most awfully trifle ; I
thought of the horrors of perdition, and the worm that
never dieth. I thought of this most gracious provision of
God's grace by the mediation of his Son. 0 what misery !
0 what a remedy ! 0 blinded and most wilful sinners —
they will not come unto him, that they may be saved ! O
deplorable condition of this interesting woman ; so near the
grave, and apparently, so ill prepared ! And in a mental
agony I wrestled with God for her immortal soul. "0
Holy Spirit, come, break, subdue, breathe life into the dry
bones : breathe on her soul, and she shall live !"
At this moment the elder drew near ; and taking her
by the hand, said, " ' Turn thee, turn thee, why wilt thou
die ? As I live, saith the Lord, I have no pleasure in the
death of the wicked ; wherefore, return ye, and live.'
Does not God even stoop to expostulate with thee ? hear
his voice. 'Come now, and let us reason together, saith
the Lord : though your sins be ds scarlet, they shall be
white as snow: though they be red like crimson, they
shall be as wool.' Yes, dear lady, thine iniquities are
great — thy transgressions are infinite ! I lay no flattering
unction to thy troubled conscience, but, glory be to his
28 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW.
grace, his mercy is equal to all thy misery ; his grace to
thy boundless wants. ' Christ is able to save unto the
uttermost all that come unto God by him.' "
The "widow sobbed aloud ; and I could hear her utter
in a suppressed moan, *' God be merciful to me a sinner !
what shall I do — what must I do, to be saved ? I believe
the Bible to be from God. Can it lead me to a cure for a
broken heart ? Is it Jesus Christ ?"
''What avails it," continued the elder, not hearing
what she said, " that thou shouldest reject the Holy Bible,
and urge all the strength of infidel objections against the
revelation of Christ ? thine immortal soul is quivering like
a sere leaf on the autumnal bough, ready to drop into hell.
0 tell me wherewith thou shalt come before thy Lord, or
bow thyself before God ? Can the most costly offerings
be accepted by thy Judge? How canst thou be justified
before Him who is of purer eyes than to look upon iniquity ;
w^ho cannot behold it without abhorrence ? Can the Judge
declare that there is no sin, where thy conscience itself
crieth out under the load of thy guilt ? Can he who has
declared that he will by no means clear the guilty, even
now acquit thee without an adequate reparation to law and
justice? 0 may God be merciful to thee a sinner! Deists
may prate, and the profane may scoff ; but there is a God —
there is impartial justice — there is a tremendous bar of
judgment ! And there is a sentence under which the bold-
est and stoutest-hearted blasphemer shall quail, as the
fiercest demon in eternal darkness has quailed ! But 0,
there is hope for thee. Cast away all thy transgressions ;
there is justification for the chief of sinners."
" 0 how ?" cried she in a transport ; "where, dear pas-
tor ; by what means ; by whom ? 0 that I knew Him, I
would come even to his feet."
The elder's manner was severe, but his heart was all
kindness : the evidence of this was manifest, for he was
sheddinof tears Avhile he was utterinsf these searchinfj words.
And then allowance must be made for him : he was the
neighbor of the general and the widow's family, and he had
THE GENERALS WIDOW. 29
long been witness of the \iriilence and malignity with which
the Holy Bible and the Christian religion had been treated
in this family ; and he thought no convictions too deep, no
remorse too pungent, no repentance tliorough enough, in
such a penitent.
She laid her hand gently on mine, and in deep distress
repeated, " Tell me, 0 tell me how% where, by ivhom I can
be justified from this overwhelming guilt of my soul."
I hastened to explain the nature of saving faith and
evangelical repentance. I dwelt at some length on the
nature and manner of justification before God, by faith in
the atoning blood of Christ. I implored her, in the name
of the Most High, to cast herself on the grace and mercy
of God in Christ. " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ,
and t«hou shalt be saved." The gospel offer is clear, full,
explicit ; so also is the call of mercy : " Come imto me,
all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you
rest."
" Stop," said she, with a look of mingled emotion —
"repeat that again."
" Come unto me " — " Whom ?" cried she ; " what 7ne ?
who speaks this to me ?"
*' Christ the Lamb, the dear 'Lamb of God, who taketh
away the sins of the world.' ' He bore our sins in his own
body on the tree,' that such sinners as you and I may be
saved, and never come into the second death. He says
this ; and his saying is a command. Come, then, unto him :
0 seek his Holy Spirit, to illumine thee and renew thee.
Here is the promise."
"What promise?" cried she, eagerly.
" I will sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be
clean : from all your filthiness, and from all your idols, will
1 cleanse you. A new heart, also, will I give you, and a
new spirit will I put within you ; and I will take away the
stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you a heart
of flesh." Ezek. 36 : 25-27.
*' 0 may I venture ?" said she, in a low moan. " Hear,"
Baid I, " out of his own w^ord, the authority binding you,
VOL. yiii. 34=^
30 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW.
and the reason why you should venture instantly. * Ho,
every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he
that hath no money ; come ye, buy and eat ; yea, come,
buy wine and milk without money and without price. In-
cline your ear, and come unto me ; hear, and your soul shall
live ; and I will make an everlasting covenant with you,
even the sure mercies of David.' 'Ask, and it shall be
given you ; seek, and ye shall find ; knock, and it shall be
opened unto you.' * The Spirit and the bride say. Come ;
and let him that heareth say. Come ; and let him that is
athirst come ; and whosoever will, let him come and take
the water of life freely.' "
" O, my God, and are such promises, are such offers
made to such as me?^^
" O yes, to thee and the chief of sinners : free is the
gospel offer; perfect is the atonement; all-sufficient the
blessed Saviour : and you have, as your warrant to come,
God's own call. 0 come unto him : accept him : add not
the sin of fresh rebellion to all thy other sins. Believe in
him noiv, and thou shalt be saved."
Her face was bathed in tears : she covered her head,
and turned herself round into the arms of her sister, who
had been all this time supporting her on the bed. A long
and deep silence occurred, interrupted only by her Ioav
moanings and sobbings of pain and agon3^ The children
hastened into her bedroom, as if anticipating her dissolution.
Her son I leaned on a sofa opposite her bed, with his
eyes fixed with intense interest oh us.
The elder had bent his head down on his knees, and
was wrestling for her soul in secret prayer ; and my spirit,
in indescribable emotions, with some faint beamings of joy,
Avas imploring the outpouring of the Holy Ghost. " Come,
O breath of the Lord, and breathe on this crushed and bro-
ken spirit. O leave her not ; let her not return again to
folly. Deliver her, 0 gracious Saviour: bring her up out
of the deep waters. Set her feet upon a rock — the Rock of
ages : put the new song into her lips. Holy Father, hear
her, 0 hear her in these secret wrestlins^s and ao^onies of
THE GENERAL'S WIDOW.
31
her soul ; and let it be seen that she is a vessel of mercy
for the Master's glory. Amen."
The silence was long and distressing, still interrupted
by heavy moans and sighs. Meantime her sister, a mother
in Israel and a ripe Christian, was whispering instructions
and consolations into her ear.
We rose to depart ; we were unwilling to interrupt these
emotions ; and we hoped that these were the labors and
travails of the new birth. She pressed my hand, and re-
tained the hold of it for several minutes, without turning
round or uncovering her head.
'* My dear madam, farewell : may God bless you. You
are on the borders of Jordan, for you are fast fading awaj^ ;
and now we take our leave. I may never see you in the
land of the living any more : pray, what are now your hopes
and prospects in the solemn view of eternity ?"
I shall never forget the scene that followed. She turned
herself slowly round, raised her hands, and clasping them,
said, in the most solemn tone, " 0, my Redeemer, I take
thee — I take thee as my Saviour — now, wholly, only, and
for ever." She paused; then added, "I have found thee,
0 my Redeemer. Long, long have I wandered from thee,
my Shepherd ; thou hast sought me, even me, in these
dreadful wanderings. On thy bosom didst thou lay me,
and bring me back. Dear Saviour, in thy righteousness
alone have I hope and strength. Rich is the grace that
saved a wretch like me."
She spoke this in a low whisper, yet with great anima-
tion ; and sunk back on her pillow, and gave way to a flood
of tears.
The elder looked first at her, then at me, and then round
the circle of the children ; and in an ecstasy of joy, clasping
his hands, and sinking down on his knees, he cried, " Then,
dear pastor, let us give solemn thanks : the wanderer that
was long lost, is found ; and she that was dead, is now
alive."
We all kneeled down by her bedside, and offered thanks
and praises to the Hearer of prayer, who had in his rich
32 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW.
grace, sought out and brought back the lost sheep from the
places whither she had Avandered in the cloudy and dark
day. And we parted from her, "glorifying God in her
behalf;" and rejoicing at the consolations of the Spirit
which were abounding in her.
I saw her only twice after this happy issue of her sor-
rows : she continued to rejoice in hope of the glory of God.
She seemed to be steadily engaged in meditation and secret
devotion ; often repeating, with unusual satisfaction, these
gracious words of Christ which had brought her comfort :
*' Come unto me, all ye that labor ;" and delighting much
in the daily reading of the Holy Bible. And her pious
sister, who was by her night and day, told me that she died
with the calmness, resignation, and mild joy of a Christian ;
breathing out her soul into the bosom of the Redeemer ;
uttering, in a low whisper, " Lord Jesus, receive my part-
ing spirit : thou hast redeemed me, Lord God of truth."
On the third day her funeral took place. And at the
suggestion of my friend the elder, I gave a detailed account
of the form of instruction which we had pursued in our first
ten visits previous to her conversion. And the most of the
inhabitants of that vicinity are alive this day, who heard
the detail with emotions and tears of joy. For the church
rejoiced in the grace and mercy of her Lord, who had given
this signal triumph of his truth over the fell enemy that had
sent desolation and woe, in former days, into this family.
IVo. 288.
FOUR REASONS
AGAINST THE
USE OE ALCOHOLIC LIClUOPtS,
BY JOHN GRIDLEY, M. D.
In presenting this subject, it shall be my aim to state
and illustrate such facts and principles as shall induce every
man, woman, and child, capable of contemplating truth and
appreciating motive, to exert the whole weight of their in-
fluence in favor of the '' Temperance Reform." There
are Four Reasons which claim special attention.
The FIRST reason we Avould urge, why the use of alco-
holic liquors should be altogether dispensed with, is their
immense cost to the consumers. It is estimated from data
as unerring as custom-house books, and the declarations of
the manufacturers of domestic distilled spirit, that previous
to 1826, 60,000,000 gallons of ardent spirit were annually
consumed in these United States ; the average cost of
which is moderately stated at fifty cents per gallon, and in
the aggregate thirty millions of dollars.
Thirty millions of dollars annually ! A sum which, if
spread out in one dollar bank-notes, end to end, would
reach across the Atlantic. Or, if in silver dollars piled one
upon the other, would form a column nearly thirty miles
high ; and which it would occupy a man twelve hours in
each day, for almost two years, to enumerate, allowing him
to count one every second. Or to suppose a useful appli-
cation of this fund, it would support annually from two to
three hundred thousand young men in preparing for the Gos-
pel ministry. In three years it is a smn more than equal to
the supply of a Bible to every family on the habitable globe.
2 FOUR REASONS AGAINST
One-half the amount would defray all the ordmary expenses
incident to the carrying on of our nation's governmental
operations every year. Thus I might multiply object upon
object, which this vast sum is adequate to accomplish, and
carry the mind from comparison to comparison in estimat-
ing its immense amount ; still the cost, thus considered as
involving the iKcuniary resources of the country, is a mere
item of the aggregate, when the loss of time, waste of provi-
dential bounty, neglect of business, etc., incident to the
consumption of this one article, are thrown into the account.
A SECOND REASON why its use should be condemned is,
the entire inadequacy of any jiroperty it 2^ossesses to imixirt
the least benefit, either nutrient, or in any other way sub-
stantially to the consumer, to say nothing just now of its
never-failing injurious effects. Alcohol consists chemically
in a state of purity of carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen ; in
the proportions of carbon about 52 parts, oxygen 34, and
hvdroG^en 14 to the 100. The addition of water forms the
various proof spirits. It can be generated in no way but
hj fermentation : no skill of art has yet been able to com-
bine the above elements in such proportions, or relations, as
to produce alcohol, except by heat and moisture inciting
fermentation in vegetable substances. But it should be
understood, that vegetables may undergo a certain degree
of fermentation without producing alcohol ; or, if suffered
to produce it, another stage of fermentation will radically
destroy it, and produce an acid. Thus, any of the vege-
table substances, as corn or rye, subjected to a certain de-
gree of heat and moisture, will soon suffer a decomposition,
and a development of sugar, to a greater or less degree,
will take place. If removed now from circumstances favor-
able to its farther fermentation, as is the case with dough
for bread, etc., no appreciable quantity of alcohol is created.
A further degree of fermentation, however, is generative of
alcohol, and if arrested here, the alcohol maintains its de-
cided character ; while still another stage presents the ace-
tous state, and the alcoholic property is lost in vinegar. As
THE USE OF ALCOHOLIC LIQUORS . 3
in our opinion, success to the temperance cause depends much
UDon a rio-ht understandins^ of ivhat alcohol is, and the man-
ner of its production, a more simple illustration may not be
hiappropriate here.
A farmer takes a quantity of apples to the mill in order
to convert them into cider. He grinds, then lays them up
into a cheese, when pressure is applied, and the juice runs
into a vat placed to receive it. Here, at this stage of the
business, there is no alcohol in the juice. It is now put into
casks, and the sweet or sugar stage of fermentation, which
is already begun, soon passes into the vinous or alcoholic
stage, as it is called, and alcohol is formed. The prudent
farmer, at this point, when the juice is done worJcing, or
fermenting, immediately bungs his casks, and does such
other things as his skill and experience may suggest, to
prevent his cider becoming sour, which it will do if the third
stage of fermentation is permitted to succeed. Here, then,
he has perfect alcohol, though in small proportions ; as per-
fect as it is in brandy, gin, rum, and whiskey. The same
results ensue from subjecting corn, rye, barley, etc., to such
processes as is customary to prepare them for distillation,
namely, to such a degree of fermentation as that alcohol is
formed. And when the alcohol is formed by fermentation,
then it is drawn off, by distilling, from its union with the
other materials in the fermented mass. Alcohol, then, is
strictly the product of fermentation. It is not, and cannot
be produced in any other way. To distil, therefore, is only
to lead it off from its union with the vegetable mass, and
show it naked with all its virulence.
Having considered the manner in which alcohol is
formed, let us examine some of its properties. It contains
nothing that can afford any nourishment to the body, and
consequently it can impart no strength. When taken in
certain quantities, diluted with water, as it must be for
common use, its effect is, to arouse the energies of the sys-
tem, and for a while the individual feels stronger ; but this
excitement is always followed. by depression and loss of
4 FOUR REASONS AGAINST
animal and mental vigor. Thus it is a mere provocative to
momentary personal effort, without affording any resources
to direct or execute. Hence the fallacy of that doctrine
held by some, that to accomplish deeds of daring, feats of
muscular strength, etc., with success, demands the drinking
of spirituous liquors. Were I about to storm an enemy's
battery, with no alternative before me but victory or death,
I might, principle aside, infuriate my men with the madden-
ing influence of ardent spirit, and let them loose upon the
charge, as I would a wounded elephant, or an enraged
tiger. But in attaining an object to which the combined
energies of mind and body were requisite, I should never
think of the appropriateness of spirituous liquor to aid the
effort.
But an objector says, " I certainly feel stronger upon
drinking a glass of spirit and water, and can do more work
than I can without it. I can swing a scythe with more
nerve, or pitch a load of hay in less time ; and feel a general
invigoration of my body during the heat of a summer's day,
after having drank a quantity of grog. How is this ?" We
reply, doubtless you feel for the moment all that you de-
scribe ; but your feeling strength thus suddenly excited, is
far from being proof that you are really any stronger. The
opposite is the fact ; which we infer from the inadequacy
of any substance, be it ever so nutritious, to impart strength
so suddenly, as it would seem ardent spirit did when drank;
for there has not been sufficient time for digestion, through
which process only can any substantial nourishment be de-
rived to the body. The apparent strength which an indi-
vidual feels upon drinking ardent spirit, is the same in kind,
though not in degree, Avith that which a man feels who has
lain sick with a fever fifteen or twenty days, during which
time he has taken little food, and been subjected to the
weakening influence of medicines ; but who on a sudden
manifests great strength, striving to rise from his bed, etc.,
and in his delirious efforts must be restrained perhaps by
force. Now no man in his senses will call this any real
THE USE OF ALCOHOLIC LiaUORS. 5
increase of strength in the sick man, who has been starving
thus long ; but only a rallying of the poAvers of life under
the stimulus of disease, Avhich is always followed by extreme
languor and debility, if not by death. So it is with the in-
dividual under the influence of ardent spirit : he feels the
powers of his body excited from the stimulus of the spirit ;
yet, as we think must be clear to the apprehension of any
one, without any addition of actual strength.
Again, alcohol is not only innutritions, but is jyoisonoui^.
Taken into the stomach in an undiluted and concentrated
state, in quantities of two or three teaspoonfulls, it destroys
life, as clearly shown in Accum's experiments. Combined
with different proportions of water, sugar, etc., it is modi-
fied in its effects. Most of the vegetable and mineral
poisons may be so diluted and modified as to be capable
of application to the bodies of men internally, without pro-
ducing immediate fatal consequences ; which, nevertheless,
cannot be used any length of time, even thus disarmed,
without producing pernicious effects. So it is with alcohol :
like other poisons, it cannot be used any length of time,
even diluted and modified, without proving pernicious to
health, and if persevered in, in considerable quantities, in-
evitably destructive to life. This last sentiment, however,
we will consider more particularly under the
Third reason for the disuse of alcohol : It destroys
both body and soul. It is estimated that thirty or forty
thousand died annually in the United States from the intem-
perate use of ardent spirit before the Temperance reforma-
tion began. Thirty or forty thousand ! a sacrifice seldom
matched by war or pestilence. The blood which flowed
from the veins of our martyred countrymen, in the cause
of freedom, never reached this annual sacrifice. And the
pestilential cholera, ruthless as it is, which has marked its
desolating track through many of our towns and cities,
numbers not an amount of victims like this plague, much
as its virulence has been enhanced by ardent spirit. The
destructive influence of immoderate drinking upon the
VOL. VIII. 'io
6 FOUR REASONS AGAINST
bodily powers of men, is painfully apparent, sometimes long
before the fatal catastrophe. The face, the speech, the
eyes, the walk, the sleep, the breath, all proclaim the dry-
ing up of the springs of life. And although abused nature
will often struggle, and struggle, and struggle, to maintain
the balance of her powers, and restore her wasted energies,
she is compelled to yield at length to suicidal violence.
The efiect of the habitual use of ardent spirit upon the
health, is much greater than is generally supposed. An
individual who is in the habit of drinking spirits daily, al-
though he may not fall under the character of a drunkard,
is undermining his constitution gradually, but certainly ; as
a noble building, standing by the side of a small, unnoticed
rivulet, whose current steals alono- under its foundation,
and carries away from its support sand after sand, has its
security certainly though imperceptibly impaired, and finally
falls into utter ruin. A large proportion of the inmates of
our madhouses are the victims of ardent spirit. Our hos-
pitals and poor-houses speak volumes of the ruin that
awaits the bodily powers of those who indulge in even
moderate tippling. It exposes the system to much greater
ravages when disease attacks it. The powers of nature are
weakened, and less able to resist disease; and medicines
will never act so promptly and kindly upon those who are
accustomed to strong drink as upon those who are not.
But where is the soul, the disembodied spirit of a de-
ceased drunkard ? " No drunkard shall inherit the king-
dom of God," is the plain declaration of sacred writ ; and
were there no such scriptural denunciation of the wretched
inebriate, the very nature of his case would render his pros-
pect dark and dismal. In the intervals of his cups, when
his animal powers are not goaded by artificial excitement,
his distressed spirit partakes of the horrible collapse of its
polluted tenement, and can contemplate no motive, however
weighty, nor entertain any other thought, be it ever so in-
teresting, than how to relieve its present wretchedness.
When, then, can the unhappy man find peace with God
THE USE OF ALCOHOLIC LiaUORS. 7
amid this tumult of his unbalanced faculties, this perturba-
tion of his unholy passions ? How utterly unfitted to per-
form those duties which are requisite to secure a blessed
immortality ?
Our FOURTH REASON for the disuse of alcoholic hquors
is, that any thing short of entire abstinence exjjoses to all the
dread consequences just named. Here is the grand hope of
our cause. Total abstinence defies all danger and mocks
at consequences. With it, we are safe ; without it, in peril.
JSTo man was ever horn a drunkard ; nor are we born
with a natural taste or thirst for alcoholic drinks, any more
than we are born with an appetite for aloes, assafoetida, or
any other drug or medicine. And the child when first
taught to take it, is induced to do so only by sweetening it,
and thus rendering it palatable, a^ is the case with other
medicines. Neither is it, at any time, the taste or flavor of
alcohol, exclusively, that presents such charms for the use
of it ; but in the effect upon the stomach and nerves lie all
the magic and witchery of this destructive agent. In proof
of this, watch the trembling victim of strong drink while he
pours down his morning or mid-day dram, and see him
retch and stningle like a sickened child at a nauseous
medicine. Ask him, too, and he will confess it is not the
taste for which he drinks. Intemperate drinking is ever
the result of what has been misnamed temjperate drinking.
"Taking a little" when we are too cold, or too hot, or wet,
or fatigued, or low-spirited, or have a pain in the stomach,
or to keep off fevers, or from politeness to a friend, or not
to appear singular in company, etc., etc., or as is sometimes
churlishly said, "when we have a mind to."
And here I shall step aside a little from the main argu-
ment, and attempt to explain the effects which temperate
drinking has upon the animal system ; and how it leads to
ruinous drunkenness, by a law of our natures, certain
and invariable. The nervous system, as I have said, is that
department of our bodies which suffers most from stimulants
and narcotics. Although the circulation of the blood is
8 FOUR REASONS AGAINST
increased, and all the animal spirits roused by alcoholic
drink ; still, the nerves are the organs that must finally bear
the brunt and evil of this undue excitement. Thus we see
in the man who has been overexcited by these stimulants,
a trembling hand, an infirm step, and impaired mental vigor.
The excitahility of our system — and by this term we mean
that property of our natures which distinguishes all living
from dead matter — is acted upon by stimuli, either external
or internal ; and it is by various stimuli, applied properly,
and in due proportion, that the various functions of life are
kept up. Thus a proper portion of food, and drink, and
heat, and exercise, serves to maintain that balance of action
among all the organs, which secures health to the individual.
But if an agent is applied to the system, exerting stimulant
powers exceeding those that are necessary for carrying on
the vital functions steadily, an excitement ensues which is
always followed by a corresponding collapse. This princi-
ple is clearly illustrated by the stimulus of alcohol. If a
person unaccustomed to its use receives into his stomach a
given quantity of distilled spirits, it will soon produce symp-
toms of universal excitement. The pulse increases in fre-
quency ; the action of all the animal functions is quickened ;
and even the soul, partaking of the impulse of its fleshly
tabernacle, is unduly aroused. But this is of short duration,
and a sinking, or collapse, proportioned to the excitement,
soon takes place, with a derangement, more or less, of all
the organs of the body. The stimulus repeated, the same
effect ensues. We must, however, notice that the same
quantity of any unnatural stimulus, such as opium, spirit,
etc., frequently repeated, fails to produce its specific effect.
Hence, in order to secure the same effect, it is necessary to
increase its quantity. Thus, to a person indulging in the
frequent or stated practice of drinking, before he is aware,
the repetition becomes pleasant. As the accustomed hour
returns for his dram, he regularly remembers it ; again and
again he drinks ; the desire increases ; he makes himself
believe it is necessary from the very fact that he desires it ;
THE USE OF ALCOHOLIC LiaUORS. 9
the principle, or law, of which we have been speaking, de-
velopes itself; an increased quantity becomes necessary to
insure a feeling of gratification ; more, and still more be-
comes necessary, and oftener repeated, until without it he
is miserable ; his overexcited system is wretched, soul and
body, without the constant strain which the stimulus affords.
Here is a solution of tlie fact that has astonished thou-
sands ; how the unhappy drunkard, with all the certain
consequences of his course staring him in the face, and
amid the entreaties and arguments of distressed friends,
and the solemn denunciations of holy Avrit sounding in his
ears, and the sure prospect of an untimely grave, will still
press on, and hold the destroyer still firmer to his Hps. It
is because nature shrieks at every pore, if I may be allowed
the expression. Every nerve, every vein, every fibre pines,
and groans, and aches for its accustomed stimulus. No
substitute will do ; no ransom can purchase relief ; insatiate
as the grave, every fibre cries, Give, give ! The dictates
of reason are drowned in the clamor of the senses. Thus
the temperate drinker, hy persisting in the practice, throws
himself within the influence of a law of his system, of which
he can no more control the development, nor resist the
urgency, than he can that law which circulates the blood
through his heart, or any other law peculiar to animal life.
That law is the law of stimulation, which is never unduly
aroused, exce.pt by sinful indulgences ; but when aroused,
is dreadfully urgent. We will state a case strikingly exem-
plifying the influence of this lavr.
A gentleman, an acquaintance and friend of the writer,
contracted the habit of drinking during his college course.
He settled in the practice of the law in one of the villages
of his native state. He soon became invested with oflices
of honor and profit, and although young, gave promise of
shining brilliantly in the profession he had chosen. He was
the pride of a large and respectable family, Avho witnessed
his growing prospects with that satisfaction and dehght
which the prosperity of a beloved son and brother cannot
VOL. viii. 35*
10 FOUR REASONS AGAINST
fail to impart. In the midst of these circumstances the
physician was one day called in haste to see him. He had
fallen into a fit. His manly form lay stretched upon the
carpet, while his features were distorted and purpled from
the agony of the convulsions. After some days, however,
he recovered, without having sustained any permanent in-
jury. Being in company with his physician alone, soon
after, he said to hira, " I suspect, sir, you do not know the
cause of my fit ; and as I may have a return of it, when
you will probably be called, I think it proper that you
should be made acquainted with my habits of life." He then
informed his physician, that for a number of years previous
he had been in the daily use of ardent spirit, that the prac-
tice had grown upon him ever since he left college, and that
he was conscious it injured him. However, it was not known
even to his own family what quantity he used. His physi-
cian did not hesitate to inform him of the extreme danger to
his life in persisting in the use of intoxicating drinks. He
acknowledged his perfect conviction of the truth of all that
was said, and resolved to abandon his wicked course.
Not many weeks after, he was seized with another fit ;
but owing to the absence of the family physician, he did not
see him until some time after he had come out of it. The
physician, however, who attended, informed him it was vio-
lent. After repeated assurances of his increasing danger,
and the remonstrances of friends, who had now begun to
learn the real cause of his fits, he renewed his promises
and determination to reform, and entered upon a course of
total abstinence, which he maintained for several months,
and inspired many of his friends with pleasing hopes of his
entire reform and the reestablishment of his health. But,
alas, in an unguarded moment, he dared to taste again the
forbidden cup, and Avith this fled all his resolutions and
restraints. From that time he drank more openly and freeh\
His fits returned with painful violence ; friends remonstrated,
entreated, pleaded, but all in vain. He thus continued his
course of intemperance, with intervals of fits and sickness.
THE USE OF ALCOHOLIC LiaUORS. H
about eight or ten months, and at length died drunk in his
bed, where he had lain for two or three weeks in a continual
state of intoxication.
The writer has stated this case in detail, to show the
influence of the law of stimulation, or what in popular
language is termed, "the appetite for spirituous hquors,"
when once it is awakened.
Here we have the instance of an individual, of a fine and
cultivated intellect, with every thing on earth to render him
happy, that could be comprised in wealth, friends, honor,
and bright prospects. Ay, indeed, too, he professed an
interest in the blood of the Saviour, and had communed
with Christians at his table ; surrounded by those whom he
tenderly loved, the wife of his bosom, and the dear pledges
of her devotion. Yet, in spite of all these considerations,
and the most sensible conviction of his fatal career, he con-
tinued to drink, and thus pressed downward to the gate of
death and hell.
Now what was this? What giant's arm dragged this
fair victim to an untimely grave ? Was it for the want of
motives and obligations to pursue an opposite course ? No.
Was it for the want of intellect and talents to appreciate
those oblio^ations ? No. Was it trouble, arisino: from dis-
appointed hopes and blasted prospects ? Certainly, by those
who knew him best, he was accounted a man who might
have been happy. What was it, then, that urged this indi-
vidual, with his eyes open upon the consequences, and in
the face of every thing most dear, thus to sacrifice his all
upon the altar of intemperance ? It ivas that laiu of which
we have spoken, enkindled into action by his tippling, and
which once developed, he could no more control, ivhile per-
sisting in his pernicious practice of drinking, than he could
have hurled the Andes from their base, or have plucked the
moon from her orbit.
We say, then, that all persons who drink ardent spirit
habitually, bring themselves inevitably under the influence
of a law peculiar to their natures, which leads on to ruin.
12 FOUR REASONS, ETC.
Instances may indeed have occurred, in which individuals
have used ardent spirit daily for a long course of years, and
yet died without becoming drunkards ; but it only proves
that these have been constitutions that could resist the
speedy develojpment of the law in question. Where one indi-
vidual is found with a constitution vigorous enough to resist
the development of this law through a life of habitual drink-
ing, thousands go down to a drunkard's grave, and a drunk-
ard's retribution, from only a few years' indulgence.
We have thus briefly shown the immense cost of the use
of alcoholic liquors. We have shown that they contain no
property that can impart substantial strength or nourish-
ment to the body ; and that they are actually a poison. We
have shown that they destroy both body and soul ; clouding
the view of truth, and resisting the influences of the Holy
Spirit. "No drunkard shall inherit the kingdom of God."
We have shown that the temperate use of these liquors tends
inevitably to the intemperate use ; since those who drink
them habitually, throw themselves within the influence of
a law of their natures, which leads on directly to ruin.
In view of such considerations and such facts, who is so
degraded, so enslaved to appetite, or the love of gain, that
he will not lend his aid to the Temperance Reform ? Who
will indulge in what he calls the temperate use, flattering
himself that he can control his appetite, when thousands,
w^ho have boasted of self-control, have found themselves,
ere they were aware, within the coil of a serpent whose
touch is poison, and whose sting is death ? 0, who that
regards his neighbor, his family, his own reputation, or his
own soul, will in this day of light be found dallying with
that which aff'ords at best only sensual pleasui^e, and which
at the last biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder?
TKo. 289.
TO A LADY
FASHIOIABLE LIFE.
My dear Friend — The long and uninteniipted friend-
ship which has existed between us, and the deep interest I
have felt in the best good of your family, will excuse me
for claiming your indulgence, and for speaking with unusual
freedom. You are aware that I have been led to reo*ard
some of the customs of fashionable life in w^hich we have
indulged, in a new light ; and knowing my opportunities for
observation, you will, I am persuaded, allow my opinions
their full weight. You are not without occasional solici-
tude for your own future welfare ; and you often look with
trembling anxiety on your sons and your daughters : and
amid all the temptations that surround you, it is reasonable
that you should.
I shall confine my remarks at this time to dancing as-
semblies and the theatre. The Jirst you have considered
as essential to an accomplished education for vour children ;
and the second, as an innocent, if not a useful recreation,
both for yourself and them.
To secure for your children an agreeable and fashion-
able indulgence in the first, it often seems necessary to com-
mit them early to the care of men with whom you would
not associate, and whose very profession is a bar to truly
refined and virtuous society. To such characters, not un-
frequently the very refuse of foreign and corrupted cities,
you must send your children to learn ease and gracefulness
of movement and manners. You must send them from your
own home, not unfrequently to places of public and hazard-
ous resort, and this too at an age of tenderest and most
delicate sensibility, and at hours of the greatest exposure.
Is all this exposure warranted by the object to be secured ?
2 TO A LADY IN FASHIOxXABLE LIFE.
Passing by considerations of loss of time, health, and waste
of intellectual resources, I appeal to your sense of proprie-
ty, as a lady and a mother, if the movements, attitudes, and
evolutions of modern dancing are not inconsistent with those
pure and delicate sensibilities which you wish your sons and
your daughters to cherish, and hazardous to those princi-
ples Avhich you would wish to cultivate? Under all the
exciting influences of societ}'', music, and refreshments pecu-
liar to the time and place of this recreation, do you not
tremble for tlieir safety ? Not only the principles of pride,
vanity, and extravagance are fostered, but delicate sensi-
bility and unsullied purity are left exposed, and often rude-
ly assailed.
Your children, with all the youth of our city and our
country, are more or less exposed to vice and ruin ; and the
fact should not be withheld, that there is no resort of wide
and ruinous debauchery, where the young and unsuspect-
ing are decoyed, to which music and the dance are not con-
sidered as essential trihutaries. Around these habitations
is thrown a brilliancy that catches the eye, while strains of
enlivening and voluptuous music salute the ear ; and within,
the lascivious movements of the dance bewilder and enchain
the young, till the unsuspecting and the matured in vice
sink together in the embrace of infamy and death. Can this
be gainsaid? No. These thousand receptacles of rob-
bery and crime are sustained and upheld by enchanting
music and the dance. Grant that this amusement is inno-
cent in itself, it is from its very nature tributary to the evils
of which I speak.
Consider also what communities and what nations are
most addicted to indulgence in this amusement. France
and Italy. And as to morals and virtue, purity and chasti-
ty, what are France and Italy ? Facts here are too appal-
ling to be disclosed.
There is, unquestionably, from the nature of the amuse-
ment itself, even in its most innocent form and limited ex-
ercise, a tendency to inflame passion, to poison virtue, en-
danger purity, and to lead on to. more gross and deadly evils.
If not, then sin and death have seized an innocent recrea-
tion, and made it to subserve their cause, in maturing crimes
at which humanity shudders, and in annihilating hopes and
destroying souls beyond computation. And who that is
TO A LADY IN FASHIONABLE LIFE. 3
wise will cultivate and allow recreations at such perils as
these ?
I will take but one other view of this subject at this
time. You are destined to the grave, and with your off-
spring to the judgment-seat of Christ. You and they are
always liable to death. And as dying and immortal beings,
would you crowd the last days and hours of life with such
recreations, even though esteemed innocent ? Ah, there is
in your very nature a shrinking back from them, as you
bring eternity to view. The conflagration of that house of
mirth, and the youth falling dead in the midst of such
pleasures, send a shock to the soul, and that too, wholly
unlike the emotion that swells the heart, as the crowded
ship sinks in the sea, or a soul, by an explosion, is sent in a
moment to eternity. And why this difference of feeling ?
Simply, the moral difference of circumstances under which
these souls exchanged worlds. Moral principle decides this
instinctively, and tells us plainly, that there is something
besides innocent recreation here. As the youth in his gaye-
ty fell from the precipice and was lost in the raging stream,
we were drawn to the fatal spot with tenderest sympathy ;
while he who falls and mingles his dying groans with sounds
of mirth, appals the very heart of affection. This moral
impression no man can erase, and it is no doubtful monitor
of the tendency of this amusement.
The remaining subject upon which I wish to speak, is
that of the theatre. Its tendency is obviously still more
immoral, and it sweeps in its resistless tide countless victims
to disgrace and death. I have always been astonished, even
in my most youthful days, that ladies called respectable
should frequent a theatre, and allow their daughters to be
there. I have been led to believe they could not be aAvare
of its true character. Though you are not a stranger to
the theatre, there may be facts connected with it which
have escaped your observation, and which show it to be a
perilous place for your children.
You are not ignorant of the low repute in which the
stage has been held ever since its establishment, and that
no man can remain a respectable member of society who
becomes a public actor. Both in heathen and in Christian
countries, infamy is attached to the profession. Whether
this arises from the corrupting influence of the scenes acted.
4 TO A LADY IN FASHIONABLE LIFE.
or from a just impression of the moral character of the stage,
it is not necessary to inquire. My object is simply to show
that the theatre is unsuited to the refinement of female
character, and often fatal to youthful purity.
You are aware that it is not a place for the cultivation
of female delicacy. You must allow that there are few
tragedies or comedies, presented on the stage, in which
there is not much that is either profane or vulgar. Proba-
bly you never passed one evening at a theatre without wit-
nessing things which were highly indecorous, '' and which,
had they passed in a private family, you would have retired
from with indignation, and considered your reputation as
ruined by your return," Much that you there hear and
see, is at direct war with delicate sensibility and every vir-
tuous feeling. Could you, with any gentleman on earth, in
your own drawung-room, read what is there rehearsed ?
Would you have reacted, at your own house, what is there
presented ? Can you then with propriety allow yourself
and your family to participate in those amusements abroad,
which would disgrace and ruin the reputation of your own
house ? Examine the internal arrangements of the theatre,
the character of the audience, and the ordinary, if not the
necessary influence of what there transpires. You leave
your home with your family, unsuspicious of danger. Seated
in your box, can you read the character of those who are
crowded around you? Allow that the^j are intelligent and
virtuous. Look below into the pit, and the refuse of the
city is swept to fill this reservoir of degradation. Look
above you, and arrayed in all the fascinations of dress and
beauty, are the profligate and abandoned of your own sex.
In every corner of this immense edifice are presented new
temptations to indulgence. In another apartment, both
spacious and splendid, is stored every luxury, to gratify,
stimulate, and fire the passions, already too much roused by
the scenes of the stage. Here your sons may retire on the
natural errand of procuring refreshments for yourself and
daughters ; and here, too, they may learn the first lessons
of fatal indulgence, and be allured beyond the reach not
only of safety, but of your remonstrance and your tears.
Here are crowds, who meet to make their arrangements of
guilt, and who, by the aid of stimulants, so mingled and
poisoned as to arouse to a flame the most fatal passions.
TO A LADY IN FASHIONABLE LIFE. 5
seize and lead captive many a victim, who entered with un-
sullied innocence. Other departments of this frightful hab-
itation I will not disclose; but if the testimony of those
who know them best can be beheved, they are enough to
deter every virtuous female from ever placing her foot upon
its threshold.
As to the society you here meet, you must acknowledge
that it is not the most intelligent, virtuous, and refined. You
are crowded with those who are already poisoned with vice,
and with many who are already lost to every sense of shame.
With the great mass whom you here meet, you would not
be known under other circumstances to associate at all.
Will you then train your family to such society ? Will you
expose them to influences which lie wholly beyond your
control ? Let me say to you, that multitudes are here pre-
pared for the most gross and abandoned characters that in-
fest our city ; and that so well is this understood, that seats
in the galleries of some theatres are free to the most aban-
doned of our race, and the keepers of dram-shops, of gam-
bling-rooms, of assignation-houses and abodes of infamy,
here resort, to mark and seize their victims, and from this
nursery of death they are gathered in multitudes. Here
many of our youth of either sex, and from the highest walks
of life, have entered guileless and unsuspecting, but retired
to sink in speedy disgrace and death. Shall your own sons
and daughters be exposed yet to swell that melancholy
number? Consider the influence of these scenes on the
character and prospects of the ^ounr/ generally, many of
whom have not the securities with which your family are
furnished : nor can you fail to reflect that the time may
soon come, when even yours may be deprived of a mother's
watchfulness, and be left alone.
" Among the causes of vicious excitement in our city,"
says Professor Griscom of New York, " none appear to be
so powerful in their nature as theatrical amusements. The
number of boys and young men who have become deter-
mined thieves, in order to procure the means of introduc-
tion to the theatres and circuses, would appal the feelings
of every virtuous mind, could the whole truth be laid open
to the public. In the cases of the feebler sex the result is
still worse. A relish for the amusements of the theatre,
without the means of indulgence, becomes, too often, a mo-
VOL. viii. 86
6 TO A LADY IN FASHIONABLE LIFE.
live for listening to the first suggestions of the seducer, and
thus prepares for the haunts of infamy, and a total desti-
tution of all that is valuable in the mind and character of
■women.
" During the progress," he adds, " of one of the most
ferocious revolutions which ever shocked the face of heaven,
theatres, in Paris alone, multiplied from six to twenty-five.
One of two conclusions follows from this. Either the spirit
of the times produced the institutions, or the institutions
cherished the spirit of the times ; and this will certainly
prove that they are either the parents of vice or the off-
spring of it."
The infidel Rousseau declares, that the theatre is, in all
cases, a school of vice. Su' John Haw^kins, in his life of
Johnson, says, " a playhouse and the regions about it are
the very hotbeds of vice." Archbishop Tillotson declares
the theatre a nursery of licentiousness and vice. Bishop
Collier says, " that he was persuaded that nothing had
done more to debauch the age in which he lived, than the
stage-poets and the playhouse." And even Plato has de-
clared that " plays raise the passions and pervert the use
of them, and are of course dangerous to morality."
Let it not be argued that these amusements are securi-
ties against grosser immorality. They rather prepare the
way for such immorality. They are to multitudes the very
cause of gross, profane, and fatal habits, and the highway
to infamy and death. There is not a man on earth, who
imderstands the resources of the theatre and the results to
which they lead, who will question for a moment the truth
of this declaration. With all the innocence and purity as-
cribed to these amusements, they are linked to a chain of
downward and deteriorating causes, while they never are
to upward and more virtuous associations.
But you have sons, in whose prosperity you feel the
deepest interest, and whose danger is peculiarly great. The
customs of society impose restrictions on the female mem-
bers of respectable families which young men do not feel.
The hour arrives when the one class are handed to their
homes, not indeed in the most favorable circumstances, but
they retire perhaps to the wakeful solicitude of a mother's
love, and it may be beneath the guardianship of a mother's
prayer. But the other class are now left alone, to review
TO A LADY IN FASHIONABLE LIFE. 7
the events of tlie evening. They pass their commendations
and their strictures, not always in the most chaste and be-
coming manner, for the nature of the subjects under review
does not always admit it. Under the lassitude and exhaus-
tion of past hours, they seek additional stimulants to refresh
and invigorate. The night is far spent, the remainder of it
is exhausted in feasting and in games, and a weary and dis-
eased frame is dragged out to the employments of another
day, or seeks repose to recruit its energies.
As the gay scene closes, a crowd of young men are
thrown out upon the open bosom of our city, who have no
homes to visit, no parents nor friends to watch over them ;
and with minds poorly fitted to retire to their solitary re-
pose, they visit the brilliant retreats that blazon around the
place of their recreation. Temptations are spread before
them, and where mere curiosity first led their steps, hope
of gain now binds them, and by the fatal influence of a sol-
itary night, many are irrecoverably lost.
To others, the refreshing air of night will invite a walk
from the concluded scenes of the theatre. They too, may
have no guardians nor waiting friends to fear or regard.
They soon hear the strains of that voluptuous music which
never sleeps. Led by curiosity, the unsuspecting victim
pauses at the brilliantly lighted habitation, while all is gay-
ety within. He hears '' of peace-offerings from enticing
lips'' — ''he goes as an ox to the slaughter — a dart strikes
through his liver — this house is the way to hell, going doivn
to the chambers of death.'' Oh, a million of youth, paid back
to broken hearts, would not replace the sacrifice thus made
in a single city.
My dear friend, those amusements in which you have
indulged, and allowed your sons and daughters to indulge,
do contribute powerfully to these tremendous evils, and
from your endeared circle, a victim may yet be snatched —
a just, yet melancholy sacrifice, to these your perilous in-
dulgences. As a lady of fashionable life, and of influence,
as one who respects morality, and who would, by no means,
abandon the hope of future piety, will you not suspend this
indulgence ? For the safety, virtue, and salvation of your
children, will you not do it? Can you ever retire again
from these amusements, with your daughters, and not feel
that your virtuous sensibilities have been endangered ? Al-
8 TO A LADY IN FASHIONABLE LIFE.
low me to add, in the language of a distinguished gentle-
man, " It is amazing to think, that women who pretend to
decency and reputation, whose brightest ornament ought to
be modesty, should continue to abet, by their presence, so
much unchastity as is to be found in the theatre." If this
astonishment could be expressed fifty years ago, what ought
to be the language of astonishment now ? You live in a
day when an experiment is making upon female delicacy
and self-respect ; and it is called, by the advocates of the
theatre, a " hold exjyeriinenty It is an experiment on your
virtue and moral principle ; and shall it be said, that there
is not " shrinking delicacy " enough in your bosoms to repel
and refute their boastings, '' that they hove now nothing to
fear?'' You may have frowned upon this rude encroach-
ment, which has already been made upon your modesty
and virtue ; but that frown has not been followed by your
continued absence, and you thus are giving encouragement
to another and more daring experiment. If you, and the
more respectable and virtuous females of our city and coun-
try will not withdraw from these polluting scenes, no one
can calculate the degradation to which we are doomed ;
and you and they may yet be called to weep when tears
will be unavailing; and the miserable wrecks of your en-
deared hopes may add keener anguish to your dying hours.
You must die, and then you will not need the anticipations
of an eternal state to harrow up your soul in view of pre-
cious seasons lost in folly and in sin. But there is, my
friend, an eternal state oi just and righteous retribution ;
and will you longer expose your soul, and the souls of your
offspring, to its fatal issues ? Tell me, I pray you, in view
of death, judgment, and eternity, are these scenes longer to
be loved ? If there is not a remnant of anxiety for your-
self remaining in your soul, will you lead, by the hand of
parental influence, your beloved children to the gates of
death ? You will meet them in eternity ; and Oh, calculate,
if you can, an eternity of happiness lost to them and to
you — an eternity of misery by them and you to be endured !
I am sincerely and affectionately your
FRIEND.
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
No. 390<
THE
BOLD BLASPHEMER.
A NARRATIVE OF FACTS.
About thirty miles from the place in which for a number
of years I resided, lived a respectable family, with whom I
frequently tarried for a night, and became well acquainted.
In that new country there are very few taverns except in
towns, and at the house of Mr. W. L. I always received
a hearty welcome. He Avas a frank, open-hearted, hospita-
ble man, and though himself irreligious, was quick-sighted
to discern consistency of character, and respected the man
who was not ashamed of his religion. I had several times
heard him mention that the overseer he had employed for
a number of years was sick, and had gone to live nearer to
a physician, and he often expressed his fears that " poor T.
would not recover." His complaints were of such a nature
as almost to preclude the hope.
I asked something about the character of the sick man ;
and in reply Mr. L. said, ''He is the best manager I ever
had, but he is the most wicked swearer I ever heard. Bad
as I am myself, it chills my very blood to hear him. It
seems to me his oaths must come from the lower regions,
they are so wicked." I asked, "Does he not seem sensible
that he has but a little time to live ?" Mr. L. answered,
" I told him last week that he did not seem to be getting
any better, when he broke out in such a volley of curses,
that I was almost afraid to stay in the house. -He cursed
his Maker for sending upon him such sufferings. He cursed
the physicians for not curing him. He cursed me for tell-
ing him he would not get well. I never heard such pro-
faneness. It was awful to hear him."
When J. T. found there was no hope of cure, he re-
quested to be carried home to the house of his employer,
and here I saw and heard this bold blasphemer. My first
VOL. viii. 36*
2 THE BOLD BLASPHEMER.
interview Avas very brief, and he attempted no reply to the
few words I addressed to him.
In the same neighborhood hved a humble Christian,
whom this blasphemer had delighted to ridicule. As soon
as good Mr. G. heard of J. T.'s return to the neighborhood,
he took his Bible, and went over to see him. To the usual
inquiry as to his health, he uttered a horrid oath, and said,
" You see I am sick, what do you ask me for ?" Mr. G.
remarked, " Yes, I know you are sick, and I came over to
sit a while and have some talk with you."
T. " Well, if you have any news to tell me, speak out ;
but don't say a word about your cui'sed religion. I hate it."
Mr. G. " Why do you hate religion ?"
T. " I never saw any body made better by it."
G./' How is that ? Look at James S . Is he the
same horse-racer, and fighter, and drunkard, he used to be ?
Is he none the better for his religion ?"
T. " Perhaps he is ; but there is H. W. over the river,
he pretended to become a Christian, and there is not a
greater cheat in the whole county of W."
G. "It is true he is a professor of religion, but it is to
be feared from his conduct, that his heart is not right with
God. But you don't throw away all your bank-notes be-
cause you get now and then a counterfeit. One of the best
evidences of the excellency of the Christian religion is, that
its enemies expect its professors to be good and holy men.
True religion makes those who possess it good men, good
husbands, and fathers, and masters. Now T., you know in
your heart this is true."
T. " And you know if I was not sick I could outtalk
you, and head you up, whichever road you took ; but I am
too sick to talk, and I don't care about hearing any more
preaching."
G. "1 make no question of your superior abilities ; but
I think God has made me a hcqypier man than some I
know."
T. *'/ am not a happy man, God knows."
G. " But I can tell what would make you happy."
T. "I know what you are going to say, but say on."
G. Opens his Bible and reads. " This is a faithful say-
ing, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came
into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief." " Be-
THE BOLD BLASPHEMER. 3
lieve on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thoii shalt be saved."
** Repent ye, therefore, and be converted, that your sins
may be blotted out." " He that, being often reproved,
hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed, and that
without remedy." '' Every one of us shall give account
oi himself to God."
Even these passages of Scripture, with the few remarks
by which they were accompanied, were so offensive, that
while the good man was yet speaking, T. summoned un-
wonted strength, crawled off his bed, and succeeded in
reaching a bed in the adjoining room. Mr. G. was greatly
affected, and after some appropriate conversation with Mrs.
L. left the house.
The next evening a pious man, who stopped to spend
the night, attempted to have some conversation with T., but
finding it only irritated him, he desisted. His case was,
however, particularly mentioned in family prayer ; but it
so enraged the sick man, that he seized a chair Avith the
strength of a maniac, and struck his black boy who waited
on him.
T.'s situation became every day more and more distress-
ing. As he became conscious he could not live much longer,
his hatred to God, to Christians, and to the Bible, increased
in malignity. Mrs. L. told him, that so dreadful were his
imprecations and curses, she was terrified continually, and
feared some heavy judgment would be sent on the whole
house. I saw him at this time, and can never forget his
appearance. He was emaciated to a skeleton. His sharp
black eye liad an unnatural fierceness ; his voice was deep
and hollow. There was a haggardness in his looks, a rest-
less impatience and anguish depicted in his face, such as I
never saw before. I was journeying in company with a
clergyman, and we stopped to spend the night with our
hospitable friend, W. L. I knew our visit would be pleas-
ant to Mrs. L., as she had recently indulged hope in Christ.
I knew, too, that she was greatly distressed and worn out
by the scene which was passing before her, and that a visit
from my friend would be gratifying to her, as she had told
me that his conversation on the importance of a prepara-
tion for death had been the means of leading her to the
Saviour.
We entered the usual sitting-room, and here lay poor T.
4 THE BOLD BLASPHEMER.
He could not bear to be left alone, and at his urgent request
he had been removed to this room, forgetting that he must
go alone to try the realities of eternity — that he must go
alone to the judgment-bar of the God he had so often blas-
phemed.
As soon as conversation could be introduced, ni}^ fellow-
traveller inquired of T. as to the nature of his complaints,
etc. He was very free to converse on this subject ; the
more so, probably, because he knew that Mr. W. had some
medical knowledge. He related his symptoms, his suffer-
ings, the various remedies used, etc., and finding he was
listened to patiently, he seemed quite animated, possibly
with the faint hope that something could yet be done for
him. Mr. W. endeavored to draw from him whether he
had any hope of recovery, and it appeared evident that if
he had any, it was very feeble. In a very tender, but
solemn manner, Mr. W. then spoke of the change which
awaits all men, of the eternity to which all are hastening,
of the judgment-seat before which all must stand, and of
the final sentence from Avhich there is no appeal, no escape.
We listened with breathless anxiety, and I trust more
than one offered up fervent petitions that this poor sinner
mio-ht awake to a sense of his dano-er. It was the first time
that he had listened so long to any serious conversation
without interrupting it. I perceived he was restless, and I
had begun to indulge the hope that we should hear him
exclaim, '' Sirs, what must I do to be saved ?" But, alas,
when the question was asked, *' Do you feel prepared to
stand before the holy and just God, to whose eyes all things
are naked and open?" he broke out, saying,
"■ I am as much prepared as I ever shall be ; and if I
am not, it is none of your business."
Fixing his eyes full upon him, Mr. W. said, ''Young
man, let me tell you, you may realize your situation yet
before you die ; you may Avish in vain for the short time
which appears to be now between you and eternity. You
can live but a few days ; it may be, but a few hours. God
calls you now to repent. But if you loill not, if you harden
your heart and stiffen your neck, you may call when God
will not hear, you may stretch out your hand when he will
not regard, because you have set at naught all his counsel,
and despised his reproof."
THE BOLD BLASPHEMER. 5
Mr. "W. was asked to lead in family prayer ; and here
another opportunity offered, which was eagerly embraced,
of reaching the case of the sick man. A suitable portion
of Scripture was read, a solemn and affecting exhortation
given, and then such a prayer offered as it seems to me I
never united in before. I thought T. would be melted ;
but no, he was wroth — he tossed upon his bed — he rolled
over — his eyes. Oh I can never forget their expression- — he
raised himself up — he tossed to one side of the bed and the
other — he rose upon his feet — staggered to the door — was
caught and seated in a chair in the entry till the prayer was
over, and then brought back to his bed.
Nothing more was said to him that night. But it was
to him a night of unspeakable horror — his groans we could
distinctly hear, intermingled occasionally with shocking
oaths. He was evidently afraid to sleep himself, and
seemed determined that no one else should.
We took our leave early in the morning, when again a
word was addressed to him. A week after, we heard that
this bold blasphemer had gone to the eternal world. The
circumstances of his death were related to me by Mr. and
Mrs. L., and Mr. G.
Two nights after we left him, there was evidently a
change for the worse, which he was the first to notice. He
had an hour or two of disturbed sleep, and awoke in great
distress both of body and mind, crying out, " I shall die ;
Oh I am dying, and shall go to hell."
Those around him tried to tell him about the Saviour
of sinners, but he would not hear. He continued to ex-
claim, " I am lost — 0, I am lost — I shall go to hell."
He requested Mr. W. to be sent for ; but as it was
thought he could not live through the night, and the dis-
tance was great, it was not judged best to send. He then
requested old Mr. G. to be sent for. The old man soon
came.
Mr. T. " 0 do pray for me, I must die, and go to hell."
Mr. G. " You must prav for yourself."
T. "I can't."
G. "You can say, ' God be merciful to me a sinner.' "
T. '' 0 no I can't. God will not hear such a wretch."
G. " But my prayers cannot save you ; you must pray
for yourself; you must repent of sin. You must believe in
6 THE BOLD BLASPHEMER.
the Lord Jesus Christ ; yield up yourself to him, and
through his atoning blood all your sins shall be forgiven."
T. " 0 do pray — 0 do pray for me."
His request Avas complied with ; but he continued his
groans and exclamations, so that it is probable he heard
but little of the prayer. When Mr. G. ceased, he begged
him to read the Bible. This was done. If Mr. G. stopped,
he would cry out, "do read," or "do pray," or "do talk."
Mr. G. fearing he w^as depending on him to save him,
and knowing that he was rapidly going into eternity, left
the house. He told me he could scarcely endure the
moans and cries which this blasphemer uttered. They
seemed not the cries of a penitent pleading for mercy, but
of a soul suffering under God's w^rath, and tasting the cup
which his own folly and wickedness had mixed. He tossed
upon his bed, lashed by the upbraidings of conscience, and
there seemed to be realized in his case " a certain fearful
looking for of judgment and fiery indignation " from his
offended Creator.
He was often urged, during these hours of anguish, to
repent now — to ^:)ray noio. To which he invariably answered,
" I can't — 'tis too late — too late — 'tis too late for me. Take
warning by me, 0 take warning — 'tis too late for me." In
this manner he continued to groan, and toss, and struggle,
till nature was exhausted.
Thus died this bold blasphemer. And now w^here
is he?
Reader, here is a simple narrative of facts. Many per-
sons were acquainted with the man and the manner of his
death. I often heard it talked about while I lived in that
part of the country. I am sure that no one who saw him
during the last week of his hfe can ever forget him. Often
have I thought of his appearance, and my blood has chilled
in my veins. Yet, hardened and wicked as he was, " his
sin found him out." Even in this world he felt the gnaw-
ings " of the worm that never dies." He had a clear per-
ception of what his sins deserved, and though he trembled
and shrunk at the sight, yet no meltings of godly sorrow
came over his soul. No change of posture gave ease to his
tortured spirit. He had often prayed that God would
damn his soul ; but now he felt he could not pray that it
might be saved. He had racked his invention to make the
THE BOLD BLASPHEMER. 7
most absurd and Avicked oaths, and now he saw them re-
turning upon his own soul, and ready to sink him to that
world of woe from Avhich he seemed to have borrowed lan-
guage to express the wickedness of his heart.
"It is too late — too late for me," was his cry, when
urged to repent — "Too late — too late.'' "He knew his
duty, but he did it not." He knew that he was a creature
of God, who had a claim to his obedience. He knew that
his laws were holy, just, and good, and that he had wilfully
broken them, and incurred the penalty, " The soul that sin-
neth, it shall die."
Reader, is it yet " too late " for you ? Are you still in
your sins ? Is it nothing to you that God your Maker
claims your obedience and love ? Is it nothing to you that
the Redeemer has died, and that " he that believeth " in
him "shall be saved, and he that beheveth not shall be
damned ?"
Are you a profane swearer? "Be sure your sin will
find you out." Have you ever prayed God to "damn your
soul?" He has heard that prayer, and it may be, he will
answer it according to your request. And now let me se-
riously ask you, can you calmly repeat the impious prayer
you have so often uttered ? Can you do it ? Dare you do
it ? Are you so hardened in sin that you can deliberately
pray for " damnation V
Think, what is it to be damned — to be cast off from
God, from happiness, from heaven, and cast down to hell,
the prison of despair ? Think, too, that this will be eternal.
God hath said, "The wicked shall go away into everlasting
punishment, where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not
quenched."
Do you plead as an excuse for swearing, that you do it
thoughtlessly, that you have acquired the hahit, and now
you hardly know when you swear? This is a dreadful
acknowledgment that you so constantly break the com-
mand, "Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy
God in vain," that it has become habitual. You thus ac-
knowledge that you care not for the command, and defy
the penalty.
Do you say that you only swear when you are in a
passion ? Do you offer this as an excuse ? Will you carry
up this excuse to the judgment of the great God, before
8 THE BOLD BLASPHEMER.
whom you must answer for " every idle word ?" Will you
tell him that you broke his commands thoughtlessly, habit-
uall}'-, and when you were in a passion ; or do you hope to
escape the notice of Omniscience ? Think not that in that
immense assembly, when all who have lived shall stand
before the Judge, you may be overlooked or passed by un-
observed. 0 110. He who numbers the hairs of ypur head ;
whose eyes, as a flame of fire, have been fixed upon you
during all your wayward course ; Avho has often warned
you by his providence, his ministers, his Spirit, and by
your own conscience ; who has borne with you patiently, it
may be twenty, thirty, or fifty years ; he will not let you
escape. The mountains will not heed your call, nor will
the hills cover you " from the face of Him that sitteth on
the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb."
Now, fellow- sinner, what will you do? Conscience
whispers that you are verily guilty. What then will you
do ? Come to a decision. Will you continue this senseless,
absurd, wicked practice of swearing ; or will you break off
from this, and all other sins, and lead a life of obedience to
all -the commands of your Maker? Will you throw aside
this Tract, which pleads with you, as a man with his friend,
to think of these things as you will wish you had done
when you come to die ? Will you deliberately crowd these
considerations out of mind, and pursue the same downward
course ? Will you, when your eternal all is at stake, throw
away your soul ? Throw it away ! Where ? Into the cold,
dark, cheerless gulf of annihilation ? This you cannot do.
You cannot cease to exist. 0 no. If you repent not, you
Avilfully throw your soul into that boundless, unfathomable
abyss where no sound is heard save " v>'eeping, and wailing,
and gnashing of teeth for ever."
*^* The facts in the above narrative are fully substantiated to
the Committee of the American Tract Societ}^
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY,
]¥o. S91
THE
HORRORS OF HEATHENISM.
The object of these pages is to present the moral condi-
tion of the heathen, and the motives for sending them the
glorious Gospel. The facts are from the most authentic
sources, chiefly from eye-witnesses ; and the subject is pre-
sented with the devout hope, that such compassion for the
miserable and perishing may be awakened as will rouse to
ardent prayer and more active benevolence.
I. EXTENT OF HEATHENISM.
More than half the earth's surface is covered with moral
darkness. Almost the whole of the vast regions of Asia
and of Africa, extensive portions of North and South Amer-
voL. VIII. 37
2 HORRORS OF HEATHENISM.
ica, together with numerous islands of the sea, belong to
the empire of paganism. In its deplorable darkness are
enveloped, according to the besi authority, not less than
five hundred millions of the human race; and these regions
embrace many of the fairest portions of the globe. Nature
is nowhere seen in more lovely attire, and has been nowhere
more lavish of her bounties. In grandeur and beauty of
scenery, in fertility of soil, in variety of useful productions,
they are exceeded by none on earth. Let the eye of Chris-
tian benevolence run to and fro through this immense em-
pire of darkness. Truly the harvest is great.
n. ABSURDITIES OF HEATHENISM IN RESPECT TO THE DEITY AND
DIVINE WORSHIP.
1 . Objects of worship. More than two hundred millions
of our race, embracino^ China and contioruous countries, are
Buddliists, worshipping a great variety of imaginary deities,
paying homage to the spirits of departed ancestors, and to
innumerable idols. More than fifty millions are worship-
pers of the Grand Lama, a deified human being. More
than one hundred millions, includincr Hindostan and rec^ions
adjacent, are worshippers of the deity under three forms,
Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva, Avith numberless subordinate
deities. The millions inhabiting the various Asiatic and
Pacific islands worship an -endless variety of false gods,
represented by images in every variety of monstrous and
disgusting forms. In different pagan nations various ani-
mals receive divine honors, as the cow in India, various rep-
tiles in South Africa, the shark among the natives of the
Pacific isles, and the crow among natives of the North-west
coast. The luminaries of heaven are also deified, as are
rivers, and trees, and departed souls of men, and malignant
demons.
2. Their religious rites evince the greatest degradation.
In some regions they are attended with excessive cruelties.
"The shark," says Rev. Mr. Ellis, "was formerly worship-
ped in the South Sea islands. On the occasion of worship,
the priests sallied forth, and wherever a company of per-
HORRORS OF HEATHENISiM. 3
sons were assembled, a rope with a noose was suddenly and
unexpectedly thrown among them, and the first person taken
in the snare, man, woman, or child, was strangled, cut in
pieces, and thrown 'into the sea, to be devoured by the
shark."
Dr. Buchanan writes, "The horrid solemnities of Jug-
gernaut continue. Yesterday a woman devoted herself to
the idol. The wheel did not kill her instantaneously, as is
generally the case, but she died in a few hours. This morn-
ing, as I passed ' the place of skulls,' nothing remained but
her bones."
Religious rites in some regions are most disgusting.
"Tlie car of the chief Hindoo idol," says Dr. Buchanan,
" moved on a little way and then stopped. A boy of about
twelve years was then brought forth to attempt something
yet more lascivious, if peradventure the god would move.
The child perfected the praise of his idol with such ardent
expression and gesture that the god was pleased, and the
multitude emitting a sensual yell of delight, urged the car
along." The Hindoo gods are represented as examples of
every kind of licentiousness, and as pleased with correspond-
ent rites of worship. Their images and the sculpture of
their temples are spectacles of impurity. The whole idol
system exerts a most debasing and demoralizing influence
upon the mind. What a contrast between paganism and
revelation on the grand point, the character of God and the
way of acceptance with him !
III. THE HEATHEN HAVE NO CORRECT VIEWS OF A FUTURE
STATE.
This is another affecting feature of their moral degrada-
tion. The Chinese and the Hindoos — and theirs is the faith
of more than half the heathen world — believe in the trajis-
migration of the soul, or its passage after death, from the
present body to some other; the good to nobler, the bad
to viler bodies. These views involve a mere animal exist-
ence after death, and rewards and punishments correspond-
ing to such an existence. Various African and Indian tribes
4 HORRORS OF HEATHENISM.
suppose the future state a sort of continuance of the pres-
ent, involving similar wants, and perils, and circumstances.
Accordingly the grave of the Indian receives also his dress,
arms, etc. Retribution to the good will consist of cloudless
skies, unfaihng verdure, and abundant game, with all the
luxuries of sensual appetite; while the wicked are to en-
dure all the torments of ungratified desire in barren lands,
abounding with wild beasts and venomous serpents, and
darkened with storms and tempests. Without greater par-
ticularity on this subject, it may suffice to say, that while
we find no pagan nation destitute of some idea of a future
state, we find none whose views are not mingled with ex-
travagant absurdities. While they have been unable to
resist the impression of a future life, they have given to a
corrupt and disordered fancy the privilege of drawing such
a picture as she pleased.
In respect to character, moral debasement is the univer-
sal tendency of heathen views of futurity. An anticipated
sensual paradise countenances the baser appetites, while the
fierce and mahgnant passions are inflamed by the supposed
future rewards of success in war or schemes of revenge.
Instead of awing the transgressor's mind and repressing
evil deeds, the reverse is the melancholy fact. And on
happiness t\ie\v influence is no less disastrous. By bloody
sacrifices of human victims, by unbounded indulgence of
hateful lusts and malignant passions, countenanced and
encouraged as these are by absurd views of a future world,
the sum of human misery has been vastly increased. How
beneficent the hand that bestows that Gospel which brings
" life and immortality to light," which sets truly before the
benighted pagan's mind the things that shall be hereafter !
IV. VICE AND CRIME AMONG THE HEATHEN.
Under the influence of polluting and debasing views of
the Deity and divine worship, of incorrect apprehensions
of a future world, and the grinding oppression of despotic
rulers, iniquity bursts forth in heathen countries in prodig-
HORRORS OF HEATH ExXISJI. 5
ious luxuriance. Our limits forbid a survey of the great
sea of pagan wickedness. The united voice of all who have
dwelt among the heathen proclaims, that none but those
actually present to behold them can have any idea of Avhat
revolting scenes of depravity are every day witnessed.
Those upon the spot declare, that the awful picture of hea-
then abominations, drawn in the first chapter of Romans, is
essentially the state of heathenism as developed before their
eyes. Vice bursts over all control, and rolls its waves of
corruption on every side. The whole idol system, all over
the earth, is full of abominations : it carries its deluded vic-
tims down to such a frightful depth of shameless pollution
as renders details too revolting to be endured.
V. THE MISERIES OF THE HEATHEN ARE VERY GREAT.
1. Despotic governments produce incalculable misery.
The arm of oppression often strips men in an hour of the
gains of years, thus plunging famihes, sometimes whole dis-
tricts, into the depths of poverty and misery. Capricious
and sanguinary laAvs stretch the rod of terror over the
enslaved and trembling subject. Property, liberty, or life,
must be surrendered at the caprice of a tyrant.
2. Religious customs inflict great miseries. It has ever
been a favorite pagan notion, that suffering was pleasing to
the Deity. This is often voluntary, inflicted by deluded
devotees upon themselves. The flesh is cut or pierced with
sharp instruments, tortured by fire, or emaciated by absti-
nence from food. A most miserable death is often the con-
sequence of this infatuation. Some cast themselves upon
iron spikes, which inflict deadly wounds ; others bury them-
selves alive in the earth ; others sink themselves Avith heavy
stones to the bottom of the ocean ; others throw themselves
beneath the wheels of idol cars. The funeral pile in India
was a dreadful specimen of self-inflicted misery.
" In the year 1799, twenty-two females," says the Lon-
don Christian Observer, " were burnt alive with the dead
body of Unutio, a Brahmin. The fire was kept burning
VOL. VIII. 37*
6 HORRORS OF HEATHENISM.
three days. When one or more arrived, the ceremonies
were gone through with, and they threw themselves upon
the blazing fire ! On the first day three were burned ; on
the second and third days nineteen more." '' Another Brah-
min died near Serampore, who had married forty women ;
all but eighteen had died before him. On this occasion a
fire extending ten or twelve yards in length Avas prepared,
into which the remaining eighteen threw themselves, leaving
more than forty children." In the Bengal presidency in
nine years, from 1815 to 1824, the number of suttees (cases
of burning as above) Avas 5,997.
The sufferings by pilgrimages in India are immense.
More than 300,000 persons have been known to visit a fa-
vorite idol in a single year. By disease and want a fright-
ful havoc of life is occasioned. The London Missionary
Register gives the following facts from an eye-witness :
*' The poor pilgrims are to be seen in every direction dead,
or in the agonies of death ; lying by fives, tens, and twen-
ties ; and in some parts there were hundreds to be seen
in one place." " I saw one poor creature who was partly
eaten, though alive ; the crows made an incision in the back,
and were pulling at the wound when I came up. The poor
creature feeling the torment, moved his head and shoulders
for a moment ; the birds flew up, but immediately returned
and recommenced their meal."
'3. Their miseries are multiplied by the ivant of natural
affection. This principle is weakened, and it seems in some
cases totally destroyed. The infirmities of declining life,
instead of being soothed by filial tenderness, are the occa-
sion of cruel abandonment, or death is hastened by bloody
weapons. " Sometimes," says Rev. Mr. Ellis, " the South
Sea native, tired of waiting on him, would pierce his aged
and unsuspecting father with a spear. Sometimes the chil-
dren would pretend they were carrj^ing their father to bathe,
when they would throw him into a grave previously pre-
pared, stifle his cries, and put an end to his life by throwing
large stones upon him."
HORRORS OF HEATIIEMSM. ^
"Infanticide has prevailed in almost every heathen coun-
try. " Hundreds of helpless children," says Mr. Kingsbu-
ry, "have been murdered among the Choctaws. Sometimes
the mother digs a grave and buries her child alive as soon
as it is born ; sometimes she puts it to death by stamping
on its breast, by strangling, or knocking it on the head."
"A Hindoo woman cast her child, between three and
four years old, into the Ganges, as an offering to the god-
dess. The little creature made its way to a raft of bamboos
that happened to be floating by, and seizing one end of it
was di'ifted along, crying to its unnatural parent for help.
She perceiving from the shore the danger of the child's
escaping, plunged into the water, tore away its hold, broke
its neck, and hurled its life-warm corpse into the middle
of the current, by which it was soon drifted out of sight."
Tyerman and Bennett's Journal.
4. Heathen wars are cruel. War is horrid enough under
all the mitigations of civilized life, but in pagan lands it is
carried on with terrible ferocity. Scarcely could unchained
demons, bursting from their abodes beneath, make more
horrid exhibitions of malignant passions. " The barbarity
of wars in the South Sea islands," says Rev. Mr. Ellis, "was
dreadful. Here a warrior mio^ht be seen tossincy little chil-
dren and infants into the ail', and catching them upon the
point of his spear, where they expired in agonies. There
another might be seen dragging in savage triumph five or
six lifeless children by a cord, which had been passed suc-
cessively through their heads from ear to ear. Yonder, all
covered with gore, another might be seen scooping with his
hands the blood from the gushing trunk of his decapitated
foe, and drinking it with hideous exultation."
5. Their sorrows are multiplied by indifference to each
other s woes. The most hard-hearted selfishness is gener-
ated by heathenism. The sick languish unattended; the
poor perish by cruel neglect, or direct acts of inhumanity.
"As we passed, we saw a poor man lying dead among the
heaps of grain. He had just picked up a few husks of peas
8 HORRORS OF HEATHENISM.
and grain, which it appears he had been attempting to eat,
but was too far gone. Not a single man in the market
would give this poor creature one handful of wheat to save
his life." Christian Observer.
" Every Hindoo," says Dr. Ward, " in the hour of death
is hurried to the side of the Gan2:es, or some sacred river,
where he is exposed to the burning sun by day and the
dews and cold by night. Just before the soul quits the
body he is immersed to the middle in the stream, while his
relations stand around him tormenting him in these last
moments with superstitious rites, and increasing an hundred
fold the pains of dying. Very often when recovery might
be hoped for, these barbarous rites bring on premature
death."
6. Sense of insecurity is a great source of misery. Ev-
ery thing dear in the present world, friends, property, lib-
erty, and life, are in constant jeopardy from the rapacity of
despots. The storm may burst at any moment, taking every
thing dear at a single stroke, or repeat its visit, emptying
the vials of wrath, drop by drop. The effects of super-
stition in this respect, especially in Africa, are appalling.
" When one of the royal family dies, human blood must flow
as an offering to the gods. On these occasions the princes
rush out, seize the first person they meet, and drag him in
for sacrifice. While this season lasts, therefore, it is with
trembling steps that any one crosses his threshold ; and
when compelled to do so, he rushes along with the utmost
speed, avoiding every moment the murderous grasp that
would consign him to death." Discoveries and Adventures
in Africa.
7. Unrestrained indulgence of the passions multiplies the
woes of the heathen. The horrid passion of revenge has
turned into an utter desolation rich and populous provinces.
Disease, the curse of unbridled lust, had made the most
dreadful havoc on several of the South Sea islands when
they were first visited by missionaries. Intemperance, an
importation from Christian countries, has frightfully aug-
HORRORS OF IIEATHEiMSM. 9
mented pagan wretchedness. Envy, and jealousy, and mal-
ice, and remorseless covetousness, contribute also to swell
the tide which sends its bitter waters through a large por-
tion of the scenes of social and domestic life.
8. The miseries of females. Humanity weeps at the
melancholy picture of their degradation and wretchedness.
" I would to God," said a South American Indian mother,
" that my mother by my death had prevented the distresses
I endure. What kindness can we show to our female chil-
dren equal to that of relieving them by death from such
oppression, a thousand times more bitter than death ? I say
again, would to God my mother had put me under ground
the moment I was born," Cecil's Miss. Sermon.
"Hindoo females," says the Abbe Dubois, "are in fact
used as mere animals. The men regard them as slaves,
and treat them on all occasions with severity and contempt.
The object for which an Hindoo marries is not to gain a
companion to aid him in enduring the ills of life, but a slave
to bear children and be subservient to his rule."
"The Chinese peasant," says Malte Brun, "yokes his
wife and his ass together to his plough." And Mrs. Jud-
son writes, " So far from receiving those delicate attentions
which render happy the conjugal state, and which distin-
guish civilized from heathen countries, the wife receives the
appellation, mi/ servant, or my doff, and is allowed to par-
take of what her lordly brutal husband is pleased to give
her at the conclusion of his own repast."
9. Savage customs. The system of caste in India is one
of the greatest scourges which ever afflicted human nature.
It is repugnant to every feeling of justice and humanity,
and binds a most grievous burden upon millions of the hu-
man family. The taboo system of the Pacific islands was a
kindred work of darkness, inflicting a cruel death upon all
that broke its absurd enactments. The system of ordeals,
or trials of accused persons by fire, water, poison, exposure
to wild beasts, etc., is a perfect mockery of justice, and a
vast arena of cruelty and misery.
10 HORRORS OF HEATHENISM.
10. Anxieties and forebodings respecting a future state.
The vices and crimes of the heathen are so many and so
odious, and so contrary to reason and conscience, the law
written on their hearts so destructive to the body and pol-
luting to the mind, and their modes of appeasing the Deity
so utterly and manifestly absurd, that there cannot but be
apprehensions for the future. It is said of the natives of
the South Sea islands, that in their dying agonies they would
often cry to their attendants, " There, there stand the de-
mons watching for my spirit ! 0 guard its exit ; 0 preserve
it from their grasp !" We cannot doubt that there are pain-
ful forebodings in the minds of millions as they contemplate
the unknown future ; these are whisperings of an immortal-
ity ; there is conscious guilt, there is consequently anxiety
and alarm.
"Their sorrows shall be multiplied that hasten after
another god." We have given a mere outline, a drop or
two of a great ocean. The cry of heathen degradation and
wretchedness is an ''exceeding bitter cry;" it is like the
voice of many waters ; it calls for the alleviating influence
of that Gospel whose inviting voice is, " Come unto me, all
ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."
VI. PROSPECTS OF THE HEATHEN FOR ETERNITY.
1. Throughout the Old Testament the character of the
heathen is described as excessively wicked and most deeply
offensive to God. He reproves them in the severest lan-
guage. He warns his people, in every form of solemn ad-
monition, against following their examples, and punishes
them with severity when they imitate the heathen. He
chastises pagan nations in the most terrible manner, assign-
ing their wickedness as the reason. Witness the utter des-
olation of Sodom, Babylon, Tyre, Edom, and Moab. These
terrible facts show that God views heathen abominations
as inexcusable. They carried their pollutions with them to
the grave, dying as they lived, leaving not a shadow of rea-
son for believing their moral characters altered, and conse-
HORRORS OF HEATHENISM. 1 1
quently giving melancholy assurance of their having no part
"in the resurrection of the just."
2. The New Testament describes in the plainest lan-
guage the character of those who cannot enter the kingdom
of heaven. The vices which involve this exclusion are such
as these: "Idolatry, uncleanness, lasciviousness, hatred, en-
A"yings, wrath, malice, strife, seditions, covetousness, drunk-
enness, murders, revelhngs," etc. Those exposed to eternal
wrath are also designated as " covenant-breakers, inventors
of evil things, without natural affection, implacable, unmer-
ciful, whose throat is an open sepulchre, under whose tongues
is the poison of asps, whose mouth is full of cursing and
bitterness, whose feet are swift to shed blood, who have no
fear of God before their eyes." All testimony respecting the
heathen proclaims that they live and die in just the moral
condition here described. They do just such things, and
have pleasure in them that do them. The inference is, that
they inherit "that wrath which is revealed from heaven."
3. But we have express declarations upon this point.
" But unto them that are contentious, and do not obey the
truth, but obey unrighteousness, indignation and wrath, trib-
ulation and anguish, upon everj^ soul of man that doeth evil ;
of the Jew first, and also of the Gentile.'' Romans 2 : 8, 9.
Thus the heathen are as certainly exposed to perdition as any
other class of sinners ; no exception is made in their favor.
Moral character is the ground upon which destiny is settled,
and a miserable retribution will follow guilt wherever found.
Again, " For as many as have sinned without law," that is,
without knowledge of revelation, " shall ^er/sA without law,"
Romans 2 : 12 — not by being judged by the requirements
of revelation, but for not following the light they did enjoy.
Nothing can be plainer than that the heathen may sin unto
perdition, though unenlightened by revelation.
4. Upon no principle but the one now advocated can we
account for the conduct of the apostles towards the heathen.
Their earnest warnings, made "day and night with tears,"
their agonizing prayers, their cheerful endurance of every
12 HORRORS OF HEATHENISM.
species of reproach and suffeiing while preaching to the
heathen, their renunciation of every temporal advantage,
and their cheerful surrender of life to any horrid form of
death, rather than abandon their work — all this is plain and
consistent on the supposition of wrath to come, and incon-
sistent and inexplicable on any other. They were men full
of the Holy Ghost. The certainty of sure perdition to im-
penitent heathen accounts for their conduct. They acted
like madmen on any other principle.
5. The position now taken is confirmed by a scriptural
view of the character of God, and the nature of the heavenly
world. God is glorious in holiness, and the character, em-
ployments, and pleasures of the heavenly inhabitants are
represented as at the farthest possible distance from every
thing that defileth. With such a God, and in such a heaven,
can such persons dwell as the Bible describes the heathen
to be, and as we know them to be ? Can the idolater, the
reveller, the effeminate, the adulterer, the implacable, the
unmerciful enter there? But this is the character of the
heathen ; they carry their abominations to their dying beds,
and sink in death with all their pollutions upon them. Do
not the heathen, then, "awake to shame and everlasting
contempt?" If life, to probation's last hour, be spent in
guilt and pollution, can we believe it will be succeeded by
a happy immortality ?
To the apology, that they worship God according to the
best of their knowledo-e, and are therefore in no dano-er of
perdition, I reply,
1. The word of God expressly denies this alleged igno-
rance, declaring that the works of nature display such evi-
dences of the being and attributes of God, that there is no
palliation of the guilt of idol worship. " For the invisible
things of him from the creation of the world are clearly
seen, being understood by the things that are made, even
his eternal power and Godhead ; so that they are without
excuse: because that when they knew God, they glorified
him not as God," etc. Rom. 1 : 20, 21. "Who, knowing
HORRORS OF HEATHENISM. 13
the judgment of God, that they which commit such things
are ivorthy of death, not only do the same, but have pleas-
ure in them that do them.'^ Rom. 1 : 32. The works of
nature* pour as much light now upon pagan minds respect-
ing the character and will of God as they did when these
passages were written, and the inference of their inexcusa-
bleness is as just now as it was then.
2. But facts show their apology has no ground. Twi-
light is not noonday, but it may, nevertheless, be sufficient
to show which is the right and which the wrong path. The
leading principles of the moral law have never yet been
entirely effaced amid all the darkness and depravity of the
world. "At a very early age I was employed," confesses
a distinguished pagan, " by my father to perform various
offices in an idol temple. I hardly remember the time when
my mind was not exercised on the folly of idolatry. These
idols, I thought, were made only by the hand of man, can
move from one place to another only by man, and, whether
treated well or ill, are unconscious of either. So affected
was I once by these considerations, that, instead of placing
the idols according to custom, I threw them from their ped-
estals and left them with their faces in the dust." Mission-
ary Register.
It cannot be doubted that in the minds of millions there
is more or less conviction of their folly and wickedness ; but
as their religious systems give full sway to those passions
whose indulgence constitutes their chief happiness, they
willingly stifle conviction, and permit themselves to be borne
away by the current.
It is no position of ours, that no iwgan ever gropes his
way to God. At the same time, with Scripture principles
before us on the one hand, and the character of the heathen
on the other, the conviction cannot be resisted, that the great
body of them ''go away into everlasting punishment."
Let there be no misapprehension on another point. They
do not perish for rejecting Christ. How shall they reject
one of whom thev have never heard ? They are condemned
VOL. vii]. 3^
14 HORRORS OF HEATHENISM.
for not following the light they do enjoy. Their voluntary
wickedness, their utter moral unfitness for heaven, and that
alone, is the ground of their exclusion.
If any thing can be proved from the word of God, it can
be proved that the great body of the heathen are not saved.
This is indeed a startling and awful conclusion ; but it can-
not be avoided. And it would seem that, in view of such
facts, all Christendom would be filled with the deepest com-
passion ; that throughout all its coasts would be heard the
cry, Let us hasten to the perishing nations with that glorious
Gospel which is the " wisdom of God and the power of God
unto salvation."
Vn. MOTIVES FOR SENDING THE GOSPEL TO THE HEATHEN.
1. The Gos2yel is the grand and only remedy for their
wants. It meets them all. It is "a light to lighten the
Gentiles." It reveals the true character of Jehovah, unfolds
the way of acceptance through a Mediator, communicates
all the great truths respecting a coming w^orld needful for
man to know, explains and enforces the duties of man in the
present life, and moreover is accompanied, wherever it is
proclaimed, by those gracious influences of the Holy Ghost
by which men are " born again," " pass from death unto
life," are filled with the love of God, are taught to deny
every worldly lust, to lead lives of humility, meekness, pa-
tience, and active benevolence, and by which they are qual-
ified for a holy and happy immortality. And the Gospel is
the only means by which these glorious results can be accom-
plished. Its Author's name is the only one under heaven
given among men, whereby they can be saved. The Gos-
pel is the light of life ; therefore are we bound to send it
to every benighted region.
2. The triumphs it has already ivon urge its 7iniversal
diffusion. Within thirty years it has driven idolatry from
more than twenty islands of the sea. " It has so tamed the
ferocity of numerous savage tribes, that they have beat their
swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-
HORRORS OF HEATHENISM. 15
hooks. It has broken in pieces some of the most iron-
hearted despotisms that have ever scourged our race. It
has erected hundreds of temples to the Hving God, and from
them is now pouring on the surrounding darkness the glo-
rious light of truth. It has raised whole communities from
the most disgusting, brutal, and miserable degradation, to
intelligence, sobriety, social order, and domestic happiness.
It has exerted its sanctifying power over thousands, inspir-
ing hatred of sin and the love and practice of holiness. It
has furnished the miserable with precious consolations, and
the dying with triumphant hopes." Labor, therefore, has
not been spent for naught. Here is a loud appeal to scatter
the good seed with an unsparing hand. The moral artil-
lery of the Gospel has never been faithfully used without a
triumph. Let the sound thereof go out to the ends of the
world. Let it peal on every human ear.
3. The facilities with which we are furnished for i)ro8e-
cuting this work, urge us forward. No age has enjoyed so
many. Christian enterprise has already lighted the lamp
of life on the borders of the principal heathen kingdoms.
From these positions light may be sent in every direction
through the surrounding darkness. The benevolent heart
can make its choice in what region of the shadow of death
it would diffuse the glad tidings. By a thousand channels
we can pour the waters of salvation on dry and thirsty lands.
And in such arrangements of Providence is found the earnest
remonstrance, " Why stand ye here all the day idle ?"
4. The 2>^'esent attitude of the pagan world powerfully
appeals to us on their behalf The long slumbers of moral
death begin to be broken. As here and there a ray of light
has penetrated the thick darkness, the spirit of inquiry has
been roused. The superstitions of an hundred generations
are shaken. They seem sinking under the mighty mass of
their own corruptions. The mind, so long debased and
benighted, as if the burden could be endured no longer, is
looking round for some supply of its immortal wants. The
glimmerings of the true light have shown the heathen the
IQ HORRORS OF HEATHENISM.
frightfvil reality of their own degradation and wretchedness.
" Come over and help us," is the cry which is waxing louder
and louder from different regions of the pagan woild. How
affecting the spectacle of benighted natioife asking for the
bread of life ! Who can withstand such an appeal ? A most
solemn responsibility rests upon those who hear it. A mo-
tive to exertion is thus presented which cannot be resisted
without deep guilt. Whose heart can refuse the fervent
prayer ; whose hand deny the generous offering ?
5. I urge one more motive, and it is an imperative one,
the last command of our Lord Jesus Christ. He knew the
darkness, the pollutions, the miseries, and the dangers of the
heathen. He knew his Gospel was their only remedy. He
knew, too, all the objections which enmity, imbelief, covet-
ousness, or lukewarmness could make to its diffusion. But
he makes no reservation. " Go, preach the Gospel to every
creature." Traverse every sea ; penetrate every benighted
island and continent ; preach it in every language ; let every
creature hear its glad tidings. No evasion is possible ; none
can be made which would not justify violation of any other
divine precept. There stands the imperative injunction be-
fore the eyes of all Christians ; uttered last, that it might
be remembered longest ; uttered as the closing act of the
Saviour's mission on earth, that nothing should be wanting
to its solemnity. And that precept does bind, if divine
authority can impose obligation, it does bind those who have
the Gospel, to send it through the world.
Reader, the claims of the heathen are before you. You
cannot now refuse them the aid Providence enables you to
give, and be guiltless of their blood. If you harden your
heart under the affecting appeals of pagan miseries, " Doth
not he that pondereth the heart consider it ; and he that
keepeth thy soul, doth not he know it?" Surrender your
mind to the influence of Christian benevolence. By fervent
prayer, by every needed sacrifice of time, and property, and
influence, bear your part in the blessed enterprise of pour-
inor the light of salvation on a benio-hted world.
i¥o. a03,
ARE YOU READY?
" What do you mean by this question?''' There is a
great event before you : its arrival is certain ; but it is ut-
terly beyond your power to ascertain at what hour it will
arrive. Ten or twenty years may elapse before its arrival —
perhaps not as many minutes. Some have expected it long,
but it still delays. Millions have put it far off, but it has
burst unexpectedly upon them. This is a most moment-
ous event. It will sunder all your relations to the present
world : it will break every tie of mortality — strip off every
disguise — expose every error and deception — bring out to
light your whole character, even to every secret thing — pre-
sent you before a just and holy Judge, and introduce you
to an unchangeable condition of joy or sorrow. This event
is DEATH ; and the question is, are you ready to die ?"
" Who asks this question?'' Your Maker. He does it
in his word. One of the grand objects of that blessed vol-
ume is to enable you to give it an affirmative answer. By
judgments and by mercies does his holy providence press
this matter upon you. Your own rational nature does the
same. When reason and conscience are permitted to speak,
they urge attention to this great concern. Dispel from your
mind the delusive charms of this world ; press your way out
of that torreiit of cares or pleasures which sweeps every
serious thought away ; rebuke every other appeal, and let
that only be heard which the unblinded reason and the un-
seared conscience make, and you will perceive that this in-
quiry is solemnly addressed to you. By your frailty and
mortality is this question pressed. Nothing can be more
precarious than your hold on life. Your body is the tie
that binds you to the earth. How frail a flower ! " The
wind passeth over it, and it is gone." It is in health and
VOL. Vlil. 3"^*
2 ARE YOU READY 1
vigor to-day ; to-morrow it is lifeless and cold, and full of
corruption. " The worm is thy sister and thy mother."
Your frailty therefore cries, Ai'e you ready ? and the voice
waxes louder and louder with every wasting hour of your
probation. Eternity seems uttering the same appeal : as if
with a living voice, it presses every human mind with the
momentous truth, that beyond the grave man's destiny is
irreversibly settled ; the righteous are " righteous still," the
filthy, " filthy still." And it utters the earnest admonition,
*' Beware of unpreparedness to die." But there is yet an-
other voice — and, reader, if there be any voice that should
drown all the appeals of the cares and pleasures of this
world — which should excite the soul's most intense and de-
vout attention — which should penetrate its. lowest depths,
and arouse its strongest emotions — it should be the voice of
the Redeemer. " Be ye also ready," is his admonition. No
voice breaks upon human ears in so much tenderness and
love ; for no friendship has man experienced like that shown
him by the Son of God, and no voice is so suited to inspire
solemnity and awe as that of the final Judge.
" Why ask this question V Because none can be con-
ceived of so much importance. Because, disturbing men's
sinful minds as it does, they are not disposed to press it
honestly and earnestly upon themselves. Because an hon-
est, serious, enlightened decision of this question may be of
everlasting benefit to 5^our soul. Because, amid the hurry
of business or the whirl of pleasure, you ma}?^ at this hour
need something to lead you to consider your character and
eternal prospects. Because, if the subject which this ques-
tion urges upon you is not attended to, the soul will be lost.
** Why ask me this question ?" Because it respects in-
terests of yours of infinite value — interests in fearful peril,
if you cannot answer this question in the afifirmative. Be-
cause this question is suited to arouse attention to what yoic
may have totally neglected. Because you may be the very
person of all living who most needs such an appeal ; being,
perhaps, the victim of a false hope, or of fatal error, and
borne farther and farther every day from God by the grow-
ARE YOU READY? 3
ing power of sin. Because it is of infinite importance that
you make a correct decision of this question. And espe-
cially, because the next bosom pierced by the dart of deatli
may be your own I
" Who are not ready?'' Common opinion, in a Gospel
land, sweeps a large circle, and there stand within it the
murderer, the thief, the drunkard, the idolater, the profane
swearer, the adulterer, the scoffer, the liar, and the hypo-
crite. But the word of God sweeps a larger circle still, in-
cluding not only those, but these : the covetous, the lewd,
the lovers of pleasure more than of God, the fraudulent,
the unmerciful, the formalist, the prayerless, the worldly —
indeed every soul which has not been ^vashed in the blood
of Christ, and is not an habitation of the Holy Spirit. Not
one of all these can give an affirmative answer to the ques-
tion now urged. Not one of them is ready to die. Death's
arrival, if they understood their own condition, would fill
them wath inexpressible consternation.
''If I am ready — what thenV As this is one of the
most important decisions mortal man can make — as it in-
volves interests of infinite value — as a Avrong decision would
be unspeakably perilous — make it not without the most care-
ful examination. Spread before you the Holy Scriptures,
and ponder deeply their descriptions of Christian character.
Apply the line and plummet to your own heart and life.
Rest on no man's good opinion. Keep in mind the final
trial of your case. How solemn, how searching that trial !
How momentous the result ! If, after all, you can humbly
hope you are accepted in Christ, then honor with the warm-
est zeal, and in every possible manner, the Author and Fin-
isher of your faith. Let all men see that your hope pmifies,
and your faith works by love. Let them see that your
whole character has been cast anew in the mould of the
Gospel. By every energy you can employ, endeavor to
make your fellow-men possessors of a like glorious hope.
'' If I am not ready — lohat then?'' Then you have
already run a most desperate hazard of losing your soul.
You could not have said, in any hour of life, the next should
4 ARE YOU READY 1
not be your last ; and as you are now unprepared to die,
you have run as many risks of everlasting ruin as you have
Hved hours. You have stood on the dizzy height of a most
frightful precipice ! Your feet had well nigh slipped ! Look
back : it would seem your heart would grow faint and sick
at the dreadful peril to which you have been exposed. Your
not being now ready also implies very great guilt. It im-
plies insensibility to the most powerful and aflfecting mo-
tives ; stubborn refusal of a thousand kind and affectionate
invitations ; contempt of most solemn warnings ; reckless in-
difterence to the soul's value. I appeal not to vices and
crimes in proof of sin ; there is evidence enough without
this to prove you stained with crimson guilt. But if you
are not ready, there is no work so important, no obligation
so pressing, as your immediately seeking the favor of God.
Bid the world retire. Its highest and most pressing claims
should not impede you for a moment in the great work of
getting ready to die.
" But I am in health, in the fulness of my strength, why
press this matter so earnestly upon me ?" You are just the
person to be addressed. If you lay upon a dying bed, life's
lamp expiring, and all your powers sinking into ruin ; if you
had reached such a point unprepared, had crowded this
great work into that most unfit hour, there would be scarce
the slightest prospect that any appeal would avail.
Once more. The question, Are you ready ? though now
asked in affectionate earnestness, will not be asked by that
unrelenting destroyer. Death. He asks no man if he is
ready. He drives his dart alike through the ready and the
reluctant soul. Furnished or unfurnished for the world to
come, it must obey the dreadful summons. Reader, by all
that is blessed in a death of peace and hope, be entreated
to regard the solemn expostulation of your Lord : " Be ye
also ready ; for in such an hour as you think not, the Son
of man cometh.'^
PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY.
]¥o. 393.
ELIZA,
THE CJIIPPEWAY INDIAN.
MISSION STATION AT MACKINAW.
It was in the autumn of 1823 that I met a little Indian
boy on the island of Mackinaw, and accompanying him home
to gain permission of his mother to bring him into the mis-
sion school, I first saw the then wretched woman who forms
the subject of this narrative. She was about forty-five years
old. 'Her Indian name was 0-dah-be-tiih-ghe-zhe-go-quai,
signifying, in English, the Midway-sky- woman, or the place
of the sun at noon. She was born about three hundred
miles up the south shore of lake Superior, and was by blood
of the ChippcAvay tribe.
Her uncle being a chief, she was chosen, in early life,
to become interpreter of dreams. The qualifications for
this honor were to be decided by living ten days in a sepa-
rate hut, wdthout any other nourishment than a little water
each night. She faithfully observed the prescribed absti-
nence, although it nearly cost her life, and- of her own
2 THE CHIPPEWAY INDIAN.
accord afterwards fasted nine days more. From this time
she was considered an extraordinary being. The tribe
would not permit her to work, but provided her with a
wigwam of distinction, and she constantly received from
them the best of their food and clothing. She was also
furnished with a large otter skin, or medicine sack, stored
with every article thought to be necessary either for the
magical cure of the sick, or for interpreting dreams. This
sack, which she carefully preserved, was her badge of
honor ; and in all their medicine dances she was greatest
among the great. On these occasions she took the lead in
drinking whiskey, till she became excessively intemperate,
and by the neglect of the Indians and the death of three
of her children, she was reduced to a state of seclusion and
poverty.
She was thus living when I found her little boy and
accompanied him to her lodge. A wretchedly destitute and
miserable scene we witnessed. At that time no persuasion
could induce her to allow her son to join the mission school.
But going the second time, and the boy himself being will-
ing, she at length gave her reluctant consent.
About two years after she began to pay a serious atten-
tion to religion, but for some time was very fluctuating.
While under the sound of instruction she would be affected
sometimes to tears. This was often the case at our adult
Sabbath- school ; though afterwards, as she says, she would
throw the subject off, and become, in a measure, indifferent.
Again, impressed with the idea that there could be no
mercy for such a creature as herself, and the thought of
her religious state making her unhappy, she would avoid
being present at our meetings. Yet, she says, she often
felt so strong a desire to hear the sound of prayer and sing-
ing, that she has gone to the door and remained there as
long as she thought she could without being discovered,
sometimes till nearly frozen. During most of that winter
she felt such uneasiness of mind that, not daring herself to
look to God for mercy, because she was such a sinner, she
felt it a relief to hear the worship of others ; as if God
THE CHIPPEWAY INDIAN. 3
might possibly hear their prayers, though she was unworthy
to be present. During the spring she was greatly distressed.
When gathering maple sap she often had thoughts like
these : " Here I am, going the same round daily from tree
to tree, and can find no relief; I must always carry this
wicked heart, and when I die, be miserable for ever." A
pious Indian woman used to converse with her, and, after
praying, would ask her if she did not feel the importance
of joining with her in heart. She said she did ; and though
there Avas, to her mind, no prospect of ever being better,
yet she would often feel strong desires for mercy. After
her return from the sugar camp, she thought that every one
must look upon her condition as hopeless ; and, as before,
she often stayed away from divine worship, because she
thought herself unfit to be there. During the following
summer she seemed at times to awake to an afl^ecting view
of her religious state, and with such feelings that she would
go and pray and weep alone ; but for the most part she
indulged in despair, and found no relief.
The next autumn Eliza and her son Joseph were both
taken ill. The child had profited by the instructions re-
ceived, and spoke to her much ; but she said she was like
one who had lost her senses, and nothing seemed to move
her feelings. Joseph became dangerously ill, and showed
the influence of religious instruction on his mind in the time
of affliction. He had a long conversation with her ; he told
her that he should die soon, and that he wanted her to
promise him never to drink any more whiskey, to remain
with the mission family, listen to their instructions, love
God, and pray every day to him ; then, when she died, she
would go to God and be with him. At first she told him,
that if he died she would die too. But Joseph said that was
wrong; for that God only had a right to call her to die
when he saw fit. At length she promised him that she
would remember and do as he had requested.
During the whole scene of Joseph's death and funeral
her behavior was singularly calm and solemn ; so much so
that it was noticed by all. When she perceived that his
4 THE CHIPPEVVAY INDIAN.
spirit was really gone, the tears rolled down her face, and
she exclaimed, in Indian, " My son ! my son !" but further
than this not a complaint or groan was heard to escape
her lips.
After the funeral I sat down with her and had a long
conversation. Among other things, I asked her why it was
that she appeared as she now did, and whether it had been
so at the death of her other children. She said no ; for
she had, as is common among the Indians, wailed and man-
gled her body in her affliction. " I have no such feelings
now — God is good, and I feel that what he has done must
be right." Although she expressed no consciousness of
the love of God in her soul, yet she gave evidence that her
feelings Avere under the sanctifying influence of the Holy
Spirit. Nor was it long, before, through the mercy of her
heavenly Father, she began to experience peace and joy in
believing in Christ. Her soul was also filled with love to
all the members of the mission family, and she said she
felt that her own children had never been so near her heart
as they. At times her mind would recur to the scene of
her son's death ; but, to use her own expression, literally
interpreted, " I felt as if I was in a narrow, happy way ;
and if a thought came to me about Joseph, it seemed like
beino- drawn out of this way, and I longed to get back im-
mediately." With these feelings towards God and Chris-
tians, she now became very anxious for the souls of her
own people, and said, " 0, if they could only see as I do,
hoAv happy they would be !"
When asked about the state of her mind afterwards, she
said, " I have always been happy in God since then. The
more I have seen of the love of God in Christ, and the
loncrer I have lived, the more I have desired to love him,
and to love him more and more, and to be more and moi-e
like him in my soul. I do not know that I have since ever
had any sorrow of soul so great as I have had for those
who are ignorant of God. Sometimes, when going into
church, or while there, it has made me weep to think of
those who do not love God. There has never been anv
THE CHIPPEWAY INDIAN 5
day since I found peace to my soul, when I did not feel
that God was with me. Every Sabbath," she said, " I
have felt that this leaves me one Sabbath less to be in this
world, and brings me one Sabbath nearer the time when I
shall be with Christ,"
About two years since, she was reduced quite low, and
one evening was thought to be dying ; but expressed joy
in the prospect of being soon with God. " I long to be
gone," said she, "I want to have the time come." After-
wards she felt that she had expressed impatience, and it
grieved her so that she had several seasons of weeping on
account of it.
At another time she had gone to bed, and, as she sup-
poses, had not slept long, when she awoke and felt a desire
to pray. She arose and knelt, but in a few moments fell
asleep on her knees. This occurred again ; but awaking
the second time, she feared that her love to God was de-
caying. With tears and a burdened heart she set about
prayer in earnest ; her soul was so full she could not sleep,
and she spent the remainder of the night in prayer and joy
in God,
I afterwards put several questions to her : " You- said,
before you found peace in Christ, that for many months
you felt yourself wretched, and that you often prayed ;
was it for the merits of these prayers that God gave you
peace ?" " No, it was because of Christ's pity to my soul;
because he died for po'or sinners ; and it was of God's
mercy that missionaries were sent to teach me." *'Do you
mean that you never have had any fears that you were
deceived?" "I have always felt sure that God has had
mercy on my soul ; and the more I have thought on my
old wicked life, the more it has drawn me near to God ; it
has made me feel more humble in myself, and a strong-
desire to hve only for him." " But should God take away
his Spirit from your heart and leave you to yourself, what
do you think would become of you ?" " I should be good
for nothing." " Have you any fears that God will take
away his Spirit from vour soul?" "No." **Why?"
VOL. VITI, 39
6 THE CHIPPEWAY INDIAN.
''From what I have heard of his word, he has promised
to keep those that trust in him ; and I believe he is faithful
to his word," "There have been several times in your
sickness when you have been very low, and have had rea-
son to think you should live but a short time ; have you,
at none of these times, been unwilUng or afraid to die ?"
*'No." "Have you constantly felt that if it were God's
will it would be a privilege to die, and you would be glad
to have the hour come?" "Yes, I have. This fall, when
I was very sick for two days and nights, and felt that God
only could make me better or take me away, I thought, if
it were his will, how glad I should be to be sure that I was
dying, that I might be with God." "A year ago last
spring 3'ou were received into the church ; can you tell me
any thing of your feelings at that time?" "After I un-
derstood that Christ had commanded it, I had a very strong
desire to join myself to his people; nor Avas there any
thing in this world I felt to be so great a privilege. When
I promised solemnly to be for God, I really felt in my
heart every word, and that I was now all the Lord's, and
no more for myself, or for any other. I was happier than
I can express." " Have your seasons of communion with
the Lord's people been alwaj^s precious ?" " Yes, every
one of them. I have heard more of the Saviour, and have
learned more of his love from the Bible ; I have felt, if
possible, more and more near to him and happy in him."
"What good do you think a proTession of rehgion could
do you without a heart to love the Saviour?" "None;
there would be no joy to my soul." "Could you have
this joy and peace of Avhich you have told me, if you did
not, as far as you know, strive to serve God in all things ^"
" No, I could not. Though unable to labor with my hands
for God, it is my sincere desire daily to have my heart
much in prayer for the salvation of others ; and because
God lets me live, I believe he wishes me to be devoted in
spirit to this." " Do you think you love God and souls as
much as you ought ?" " No, I try to love, but do not feel
as much as I ought." "When do you e.xpect to have
THE CHIPPEWAY INDIAN. 7
perfect love to God and souls?" At first she answered,
''Never;" thinking that I meant while in the body; but
afterwards said, " When I get to heaven."
From this time her bodily powers failed, but she was
strengthened in the Lord day by day. Her sufferings were
great ; but she was uniformly patient and happy. It was
the daily practice for some member of the family to take
an interpreter and spend some time in reading the Bible
to her. She frequently spoke of these privileges with ex-
quisite delight. On one occasion she expressed a fear that
her faith was growing weak, and requested mef to read
about EUjah's praying for rain; adding, she had never
forgot that since she first heard it. The chapter was read,
and also the last of James. She seemed much strength-
ened, and often gave her assent while we were reading. I
asked her what she understood by it, and how it applied to
her. She answered, " We should pray as earnestly for the
Spirit as Elijah did for rain, and God would as certainly
send down a shower of grace." This was on the evening
of the monthly concert of prayer. I asked her if she knew
that this night Christians throughout the world were pray-
ing. She answered, " Yes, I have been thinking of it all
day, and when I heard the bell ring I knew it and felt
glad." We then sang a verse, and two of the mission
children prayed in Indian. It was a precious season, and
before we closed Eliza seemed to be again on the mount.
As a member of the family was passing the door that
led to Eliza's room, she heard her singing in her own
language, "Heavenly Father, come down and take thy
wanderer home, for I want to be with thee. 0 how I long
to be with thee. Come, Lord Jesus, come."
On Saturday evening, as another entered her room, she
took her affectionately by the hand, and began to express
her feelings, but was so much affected that she could not
proceed. The next day the same individual carried her
" The Life of Christ." While looking at the plates, she
discovered much emotion, particularly with the view of
the Saviour's bearing the cross, and said, He was now near
8 THE CHIPPEWAY INDIAN.
her. She then said, " I wish you to know that I did not
weep 3'esterday for my pain and suffering, but for joy.
God was very near. I did not rest while he was so near,
but prayed all the time." To her heathen sister, who was
sitting by, she then turned and ^id, " You must not Aveep
for me when I am gone ; I am going to a better country."
As we were daily expecting her death, I took the little
girls of the mission to see her. While they were viewing
her emaciated frame, she faintly said, " Listen to instruc-
tion— love God, that you may meet me in heaven."
On the day of her death she repeatedly said, *' I think
I shall go to-day." In the afternoon she requested that
the Indian hymn, " And must this body fail," etc., might
be sung.
After it was finished one of the missionaries asked if it
expressed her feelings. She said, " Yes." She was then
told, if she kept her eyes on Jesus he would not forsake
her, but go with her through the dark valley. With much
emphasis she pronounced Bagish, the Indian word for yes,
and appeared to be filled with the Holy Ghost. She con-
tinued to fail through the evening. As one went in to bid
her farewell for the night, she clasped her hand, with eyes
beaming with pleasure, saying, " I think I shall go to-
night !" She then bade her a solemn, affectionate, and
cheerful farewell; and, in allusion to David's words, said
she "feared no evil." Soon after she became speechless.
One who was attending her remarked, " You will soon get
through." She cast her wishful eyes towards heaven, and
seemed to say, I hope soon to be there ; and about eleven
in the evening, November, 1830, she died.
Reader, beware lest, when you meet this benighted
heathen in the day of judgment, "a ransomed soul,'" you
be, by your own criminal rejection of Christ, "-yourself
thrust out.''
MARKS OF SAVING FAITH.
BY REV. JONATHAN DICKINSON,
FIRST PRESIDENT OF PRrXCETON COLLEGE..
That men may doctrinally believe the truth of the Gos-
pel without a saving faith in Christ, and without an interest
in him, is a truth clearly taught in the Scriptures, and abun-
dantly evident from our own experience and observation.
"What then," you ask, "is the j^lciin distinction between
a SAVING and a bead faith ?'' I answer,
1. A trice and saving faith involves a realizing and sen-
sihle impression of the truth of the Gospel ; whereas a dead
faith is but a mere speculative belief of it. Faith, as de-
scribed by the apostle, is " the substance of things hoped
for, and the evidence of things not seen;" that which brings
eternal things into a near view, and presents them to the
soul as realities. Hence the true behever, when he is wea-
ried out of all his false refuges, emptied of all hope in him-
self, and brought to see and feel the danger and misery of
his state by nature, is then brought in earnest to look to
Jesus, as the only refuge and safety to his soul. He then
sees the incomparable excellency of a precious Saviour,
breathes with ardent desire after him, repairs to him as the
only fountain of hope, and " rejoices in Christ Jesus, having
no confidence in the fiesh." Now, the blessed Saviour and
his glorious salvation is the subject of his serious, frequent,
and delightful contemplation. Now, an interest in Christ is
valued by him above all the world, and he is in earnest to
obtain and preserve good evidence that his hope in Christ is
well founded. He mourns under a sense of his former sins,
groans under the burden of remaining corruption and imper-
fection, and with earnest diligence folloAvs after holiness.
On the other hand, a dead faith often leaves the man
secure and careless, trifling and indiflferent in the concerns
VOL. VIII. 39*
2 MARKS OF SAVING FAITH.
of the eternal world. These appear to him but distant futu-
rities, which do not engage his solemn attention, nor give
any effectual check to his inordinate appetites and passions.
Or if, as it sometimes happens, any awakening dispensation
alarms the conscience of such a person, drives him to ex-
ternal reformation, and makes him more careful and watch-
ful in his conduct, he has yet no sensible, impressive view
of the way of salvation by Jesus Christ. He either en-
deavors to pacify the justice of God and his own conscience
b}^ his religious performances, and so lulls himself asleep
again in his former security, or else continues to agonize
under most dark, dreadful, and unworthy apprehensions of
the glorious God, as if he were implacable -and irreconcil-
able to such sinners as himself. Such a person would
readily acknowledge, but he cannot feel this blessed truth,
that Christ Jesus is a sufficient Saviour. He allows it to
be truth, yet he does not humbly and joyfully venture his
soul and his eternal interest upon it.
Thus a true faith realizes the great truths of the Gospel
by a lively and feeling discovery of them, giving the "light
of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus
Christ." A false faith gives, but a lifeless and inactive
assent to these important truths. The one influences the
heart and affections, and "by beholding with open face, as
in a glass, the glory of the Lord, changes the soul into the
same image, from glory to glory." The other only swims
in the head, and leaves the heart in a state.either of secu-
rity or despondency. The one is an abiding principle of
divine life, from which flow rivers of living water ; the other
is transient and unsteady, and leaves the soul short of any
spiritual principle of life and activity.
2. A saving faith cordially embraces the terms of the
Gospel, while a dead faith is but a cold assent to its truth.
Accordingly, true faith is in the Gospel described to be a
receiving of the Lord Jesus Christ. "To as many as
received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of
God." Our blessed Redeemer is freely offering himself and
his saving benefits to poor perishing sinners. Our com-
MARKS OF SAVING FAITH. 3
pliance with and acceptance of the gospel offer, are the
terms of our interest in him. They, therefore, and they
only, are true believers in Christ, who heartily acquiesce in
the glorious method of a sinner's recovery from ruin by
Jesus Christ, and cordially accept an offered Saviour, in ail
liis offices and benefits. A true believer, convinced of his
natural blindness and ignorance, repairs to the Lord Jesus
to enlighten his mind, to make his way plain, and to give
him a clear and spiritual acquaintance with the great things
of his eternal peace. The true behever has found, by expe-
rience, liis utter incapacity to procure the divine favor by
any reformations or moral performances, and that he has
cause to be ashamed and confounded in his own sight for
the great defects of his highest attainments in religion ; and
therefore welcomes Christ to his soul as the "Lord his
righteousness ;" repairs to him, and to him only, *'for Avis-
dom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption ;" and
builds all his hope of acceptance with God upon what Christ
has done and suffered for him. The true believer is heavy
laden with the sinfulness of his nature, and longs for entire
victory over his corrupt affections, appetites, and passions,
for pure spirituality in his duties, and for perfection in holi-
ness, and therefore heartily desires and accepts the Lord
Jesus as his Sanctijier as well as Saviour, and earnestly
seeks the renewing, strengthening, and quickening influ-
ences of his Spirit. The true believer feels the necessity
of this blessed Saviour in all his offices, relations, and char-
acters. He sees him to be just such a Saviour as his soul
wants, and therefore cheerfully accepts a whole Christ with
his whole heart, without any desire of other terms of ac-
ceptance with God. He may entertain dark apprehensions
of himself, and complain heavily of the great defects of his
faith and holiness, but he can never entertain hard thoughts
of the ffos2)el scheme, nor complain of the terms of salva-
tion : these appear to him " the wisdom of God and the
power of God," and every way suited to the exigencies of
his state and the desires of his soul.
But a dead faith never brings the soul to consent to the
4 MARKS OF SAVING FAITH.
terms of the Gospel without some exception and reserve.
The unsound behever may imagine that he accepts the Lord
Jesus as his Saviour ; but what is the foundation and encour-
aging motive of his imaginary comphance with the gospel
oft'er ? Upon an impartial inquiry it will always be found
to be something in himself: his good affections, duties, mo-
ralities, reformations, promises, or purposes. He endeavors
by these to recommend himself to God ; and on account of
these he hopes to find acceptance through Christ. Or if he
feels ever so strong a desire of salvation by Christ, yet he
is driven to it only hy fear and self-love, and will renew his
affections to his other lords as soon as his awakening appre-
hensions are worn off. He does not feel his want of Christ's
enlio^htenino^ and enlivenino- influences, for he knows not
what they mean. He " submits not to the righteousness of
Christ ;" for he is still endeavoring to procure acceptance
with God by some good qualifications of his own, some du-
ties which he performs, or some progress which he makes,
or designs to make, in his religious course. He cannot sub-
mit to Christ as his Lord, for there is some slothful indul-
gence which he cannot forego, some darling lust which he
cannot part with, some worldly idol which his heart is set
upon, or some difficult duty from which he must excuse
himself.
There is nothing more apparent than the distinction be-
tween these two sorts of believers. The one comes to Christ
destitute of all hope and help in himself, but sees enough
in Christ to answer all his wants : the other is full in him-
self. The one looks to Christ to be his light : the other
leans to his own understanding. The one makes mention
of Christ's righteousness, and that only : the other hopes
for an interest in Christ and his salvation on account of his
own attainments ; and, in effect, expects justification by his
own righteousness, for Christ's sake. The one brings a
guilty, polluted, unworthy soul to the blessed Redeemer,
without any qualification to recommend it, expecting from
him alone all the supphes he wants — repairing to him for
" gold tried in the fire, that he may be rich ; for eye-salve,
MARKS OF SAVING FAITH 5
that he may see ; and for white raiment, that he may be
clothed :" the other ordinarily raises his expectations from
Christ in proportion to his. own imaginary qualifications and
good disposition. The one desires salvation by Christ from
pollution as well as from guilt : the other has a reserve of
some deceitful lust, and hugs some Delilah in his bosom which
he cannot be willing to part with. In fine, the one is willing
to accept of the Lord Jesus Christ upon any terms : the other
will not come to Christ but upon terms of his own stating.
3. A saving faith is an humble trust in Christ, as the
author of our salvation ; but a dead faith always builds
upon %OTiiQ false foundation, or upon none at all. A saving
faith is often described in Scripture by a "trusting in the
Lord, committing our way to him, resting on him," and such
like expressions, which suppose an humble confidence in the
abundant sufficiency of the Redeemer's merits, and the
boundless riches of God's mercy in him. Accordingly, the
true believer, in his greatest darkness and discouragement,
ventures his soul and eternal interests in the hands of Christ.
His past sins may appear in most frightful forms, vastly
numerous, dreadfully aggravated ; still, he humbly trusts
that " the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin." He
may be oppressed with the sense of the defects of his duties
and religious attainments, but he yet sees righteousness
enough in Christ for a safe foundation of confidence. This,
and this alone, keeps his soul from sinking, answers the
clamors of conscience, and disposes him to rely upon the free
grace and mercy of God. He may be distressed with the
prevalence of his inward corruptions ; he may, in an un-
guarded hour, be surprised and foiled by the power of his
sinful appetites or passions, or by some unexpected tempta-
tion ; but, even in this case, his refuge is in that blessed
"Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.'*
And though, from sad experience of his own dreadful im-
perfections, he may be ready to question his state, and to
fear lest he be deceived, he ventures that also in the hands
of Christ, and depends upon him, that he will not leave him
to a soul-ruining deceit, but will "guide him by his counsel.
6 MARKS OF SAVING FAITH.
and afterwards receive him to glor3^" Such a dependence
upon Christ the behever ordinarily exercises in his darkest
hours. But when he is in the more lively exercise of grace,
he " knows whom he has believed, and that he is able to
keep that which he has committed to him against that day."
With this confidence, he can even " glory in tribulation ;"
he can cheerfully look death itself in the face, and triumph
over the king of terrors.
On the contrar}^, the false believe?' ordinarily raises his
expectations and encouragements from something i7i himself.
His good frames, his joys and comforts, his endeavors or
designs to serve God, are what he has to depend upon ; and
upon these he does and will depend, and perhaps will never
see his mistake until it be too late. Some of these, indeed,
do not find even this false foundation to build upon, but
quiet their souls with a loose and general hope. They be-
lieve that God is merciful, and that Jesus Christ came to
save sinners ; or they hope they shall some time or other
obtain grace, though they find none at present. Thus many
go on quietly in their sins, dwell at ease, and cry ^jewce to
their souls, until the flood of God's displeasure sweeps away
tlieir refuges of lies. Others there are who, by means of a
better education, or from some awakening sense of guilt and
danger, cannot but see that these beds are too short to
stretch themselves upon, and therefore their faith is their
torment. They believe in Christ as their Judge, but not as
their Saviour. They are harassed with fear and anxiety
whenever conscience is awake to any serious apprehension
of a future world. Thus they live under a " spirit of bond-
age," never venturing their souls upon the pardoning mercy
of God and the infinite merit of the Redeemer's blood.
Nothing can be more apparent than the difference be-
tween these two sorts of believers. The one, in all his straits,
fears, difficulties, and dangers, looks to Christ as to a sure
foundation of safety, confidence, and hope ; and though he
may at some times doubt his interest in him, he can at no
time deliberately place his confidence, or expect safety for
his soul anywhere else. The other leaves the soul asleep,
MARKS OF SAVING FAITH. 7
or else seeks rest only from the righteousness of the law,
from desires and endeavors of his own, and must either find
comfort there, or nowhere. The one ventures all his inter-
ests, and all his hopes of grace and glory, upon the faithful-
ness of the gospel promises and the infinite mercy of God
in Christ. The other sees not how to quiet the accusations
of his conscience, and obtain qualifications for salvation, by
depending upon a naked promise. In a word, the one can
see safety and security in leaving all the concerns both of
time and eternity in the hands of Christ. The other, being
iofnorant of the rio-hteousness of Christ, must make the
righteousness of the law his refuge, or else live without hope.
4. A. saving isiith. subjects the soul to Christ ; but a dead
faith leaves the soul unrenewed and disobedient. A true
" faith purifies the heart " and "overcomes the world ;" and
"he that hath this hope" in Christ "purifieth himself, even
as he is pure." A true faith unites the soul to Christ, as the
branch is united to the vine, and thereby enables the man
to bring forth much fruit. The true believer hates every
false way ; he mourns over, and watches, strives, and prays
against all the corruptions of his nature, and all the imper-
fections of his heart and life. There is no known sin which
he indulges himself in ; no known duty which he willingly
neglects ; no difficulty which can deter him from following
Christ ; no temptation which can allure him from endeavor-
ing a conformity to the whole will of God. " Not as though
he had already attained, or were already perfect." He has
daily cause to lament his defects, but yet he can truly say
that " he delights in the law of the Lord after the inward
man ;" and accordingly endeavors, in every station and re-
lation, in all his conduct, both to God and man, as well in
secret as openly, to live a life of conformity to God in all
the duties he requires of hira.
But, on the other hand, the seeming obedience of ?i false
believer is very partial, defective, temporary, and but a matter
of force and constraint upon the appetites and affections.
If, with Herod, he reforms, and "does many things," yet
he retains some darlincr corruption unmortified. or leaves
8 MARKS OF SAVING FAITH.
some duty neglected. Or if, by the lashes of an awakened
conscience, he is driven for a time to a more general refor-
mation from all known sin, and to outward attendance upon
all known duty, he finds no inward complacency in it, and
therefore is like a dull horse, that will be kept on his way
no longer than he feels a spur in his side.
Here, then, is a conspicuous difference between a true
and false believer. The one has a principle of holiness, a
delight in it, and an earnest and continuing desire after
further proficiency in the divine life. The other aims only
at so much holiness as he thinks will save him from hell,
but cares for nothing more ; and what he has is excited hj
fear or constrained by force, contrary to the real tendency
and bias of his soul. In fine, the one makes it the endeavor
of his life to approve himself to a pure, holy, and omnis-
cient God. The other rests in endeavors to quiet conscience
and silence its clamors.
5. A saving faith works by love to God and man ; but
a dead faith always falls short of both. The apostle assures
us, that "if we have all faith, so that we could remove
mountains, and have not charity, (or love,) we are nothing.
Faith worketh by love ;" and the true believer " keeps him-
self in the love of God, looking to the mercy of the Lord
Jesus Christ for eternal life." He delights in contemplating
the perfections of the divine nature. His meditations upon
God are sweet, and the thoughts of him precious to his soul.
If he can have the glorious God for his portion, and live in
the light of his countenance, he can be content with straits
and difficulties, trials and aflflictions. He takes peculiar
pleasure in the ordinances of God, and all the appointed
means of a near approach into his special presence ; and
often enjoys sensible communion with hiai. He heavily
complains of his own deadness or worldliness, which sepa-
rates between God and his soul, and can find no true rest
or satisfaction till he returns to him. This is the ordinary
course and tenor of the believer's life ; and if at any time he
grow foi'getful of God, and have the prevalence of a dead,
carnal, worldlv frame in his soul, this darkens the evidence
MARKS OF SAVING FAITH. 9
of his state, robs him of comfort and peace, and will at length
put him upon vigorous and active endeavors for obtaining
a revival of his languishing graces, by a fresh supply of the
spirit of Jesus Christ. Thus the true believer has the love
of God dwelling in him.
And from the same principle he likewise loves his neigh-
hor as himself. He maintains a life of justice, meekness,
kindness, and beneficence towards all men, bears injuries, is
ready to forgive, entertains the best opinion of men's states
and actions that the case will allow, and endeavors to live in
the exercise of " love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness,
goodness, faith, meekness." And as he thus maintains a
love of benevolence to all men, he has, in a special manner,
a love of complacence towards those who bear marks of the
divine image. These he delights in, because the children
of God. He loves them for their heavenly Father's sake,
as well as for those gracious qualifications which make *' the
righteous more excellent than his neighbor." He loves the
company of the saints : these are " the excellent in whom
is all his delight." He loves their piety, and studies an
imitation of them wherein they follow Christ ; and studies
to equal, if not excel them in their highest improvements
in religion. He loves their persons, and hopes to join in
concert with them in the eternal praises of God.
The highest attainments of a dead faith fall short of every
part of this description. The false believer may imagine
that he has something of love to God in him ; but, upon a
just view, it will appear that it is only to an idol, the crea-
ture of his own imagination. If he seems to love God
under an apprehension of his goodness and mercy, he yet
dreads him on account of his justice, and has an inward
aversion to his purity and holiness ; so that the object of his
love is an imaginary being of infinite mercy, without either
justice or holiness. If, from the alarms of conscience or the
emotions of his natural affections, he takes some pleasure in
religious exercises, this pleasure is short and transient, like
the principle whence it flows ; he soon sinks into careless-
ness and forgetfulness of God, and has his affections quickly
VOL. VIII. 40
10 MARKS OF SAVING FAITH.
engaged in worldly and sensual pursuits. And however he
may deceive himself in any supposed progress in religion,
he can never satisfy his soul with having God for his por-
tion. He can never, of course, keep up a life of spiritual-
mindedness and delight in God.
The same defects are likewise found in the unsound be-
liever with respect to his love to his neighbor. If he be not,
as is too commonly found, unjust and deceitful, wrathful
and contentious, hard-hearted and unkind, bitter and cen-
sorious, revengeful and implacable, yet he never loves the
children of God as such. Whatever love he may have to
any such from intimate acquaintance, or from their being in
the same cause, party, or persuasion with himself, which is,
indeed, no more than the exercise of selfishness, he never
loves the image of Christ in every sect or party in whom he
finds it, nor can he love a conformity to the children of God
in the holiness of their hearts and lives.
Here, then, you see a difference in these two kinds of be-
lievers. The one loves God above all things; and, indeed,
he that does not love him with a supreme love, does not
love him as God, and consequently does not love him at all.
But the other seeks the favor of God from no other motive
but fear of his displeasure, or some desire of happiness, and
not from a sense of the excellency of his glorious perfections.
The one loves w^hat God loves, hates what he hates, and is
satisfied with himself only in proportion to his conformity to
God. The other retains his delight in his lusts and idols,
and repairs to God because he dare not do otherwise. The
one, like God himself, takes pleasure in doing good to all
men ; and takes special delight in all, without distinction,
w^ho are partakers of the divine nature. The other, at the
best, has his love to man influenced by selfish principles.
6. A saving faith humbles the soul, and makes it loio and
vile in its own eyes ; whereas a dead faith tends to exalt the
mind with vain apprehensions of some sufficiency or excel-
lence of its own. The true believer has a deep sense of the
greatness and aggravation of his sins, loathes himself on
account of them, and adores the louff-suffprincr of God to-
- MARKS OF SAVING FAITH. H
wards him, that has kept him out of hell. He is so sensi-
ble of the great defects of his duties, of the sinfulness of his
heart, the imperfections of his life, and his utter unworthi-
ness of any favor from God, that he cannot but entertain a
most deep and sensible impression that it must be a Avonder-
ful display of mere sovereign grace if he obtains salvation.
It is always true, that the greater manifestation of God's love
is made to his soul, the greater sense he has of his own
nothingness and unworthiness, and the more he admires and
adores the astonishing riches of free distinguishing grace
to such a guilty, polluted creature as he is. Though the
true behever lives in the exercise of that charity towards
others which " thinketh no evil, but belie veth all things, and
hopeth all things ;" he yet always finds occasion to condemn
himself, and to censure his own inward affections and out-
ward performances, religious duties and moral conduct, and
therefore cannot but esteem others better than himself. He
finds occasion of renewed repentance every day : he every
day finds new cause to complain of himself, and new cause
to commit a sinful and unworthy soul to the mere mercy of
God in Christ.
On the contrary, a dead faith always either /»?/^5 up the
Viind with a haughty, pleasing apprehension of its own at-
tainments, makes it censorious and uncharitable, and inspires
it with that proud pharisaical language, " I thank God, I
am not as other men ;" or else, from the same haughty
principle, either leaves the soul secure and easy in its good
designs and purposes of future repentance, or impatient and
desponding, through want of those good qualifications which
it supposes necessary.
And now to sum up the whole in a short and easy view.
If you have good evidence of a saving faith in Christ, you
must have such a sensible impression of the truth of the
Gospel as makes you feel the importance of your eternal
concerns, and your necessity of an interest in Christ, and
puts your soul upon earnest and active desires after him, as
your only hope and safety. You must heartily approve the
way of salvation Avhich the Gospel reveals, and heartily con-
12 MARKS OF SAVING FAITH.
sent to the terms on which it is offered. You must accept
of Christ as a free gift, bringing nothing with you of your
own to recommend you to his acceptance. You must accept
him as your only righteousness to justify you before God,
and as your Prince as well as Saviour, consenting as Avell
to be governed as to be saved, to be sanctified as to be
justified by him. And as you must receive him, so you
must confidently trust in him alone, as a sure foundation of
safety and hope, and as a continuing fountain of all supplies
of grace to your soul, whatever difficulties and discourage-
ments you may meet with. And you must have this stand-
ing evidence of the sincerity of your faith, that it purifies
your heart, and brings you to an earnest endeavor after
habitual holiness of heart and life ; that it works by love to
God and man, and keeps up in your soul at the same time
an abasing sense of your own vileness and utter unworthiness.
This is that precious faith to which alone the promises of
the Gospel are made.
To conclude with a still shorter view. When a realizing
belief of the Gospel, and a despair of all help in yourself,
brings you to repair to Christ as your only safety, and to
venture your soul, guilty as it is, upon the merit of his obe-
dience, the sufficiency of his grace and strength, and the
faithfulness of his promises, and heartily to submit to his
rule and government, you cannot fail of the sanctifying in-
fluences of his Spirit to qualify you for the eternal inherit-
ance ; for " the Amen, the faithful and true Witness," has
given you his word for it, that if you thus '' come to him,
he will in nowise cast you out."
I might sum up this important point in a yet shorter
view. If you so heartily approve of and delight in the gos-
pel way of salvation by Christ alone, that you can cheerfully
venture your soul and your eternal interests upon it, as the
sure and only foundation of hope and safety, you have then
true faith. And in this case, he that has bestowed such
grace upon you, will carry on his own work in your soul,
and will at last present you faultless before his throne, with
exceeding joy.
i\o. 393,
MARKS
TRUE REPEITAICE.
BY REV. JONATHAN DICKINSON^
FIRST PRESIDENT OF PRINCETON COLLEGE.
You ask the distinction between a legal and an evangel-
ical repentance. To give a clear view of the subject, I will
first name some particulars wherein the distinction does not
consist.
A deep distress of mind on account of sinning against
God, is common both to legal and evangelical repentance.
Even Judas could cry out with agony of soul, '* I have sin-
ned in betraying innocent blood ;" as well as the Psalmist
groan out his complaint, that there was ''no rest in his
bones because of his sins."
A. fearful apprehension of the divine displeasure may be
common to both sorts of penitents. Mere legal convictions
may make "sinners in Zion afraid, and fearfulness surprise
the hypocrite ;" and " destruction from God may be a ter-
ror" to a holy Job, in as great reality, though not with
such despairing infidelity, as to a Cain or Judas.
Dread of outward and known courses of sinning, and a
temporary reformation from them, may likewise be the con-
sequence of both a legal and evangelical repentance. Ahab
humbled himself, lay in sackcloth, and went softly; and
Herod reformed many things, as well as David " refrained
VOL. VIII. 40*^
2 MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE.
his feet from every evil way." It is impossible for a sinner
to giv€ the reins to his lusts while under the lashes of an
awakened conscience ; a mere legal conviction must, while
it lasts, produce an external reformation.
Men may be brought to diligence and activity in external
duty, by both a legal and evangelical repentance. An in-
sincere repentance may bring men, with the hypocritical
Jews, to " seek the Lord daily ;" as true repentance always
brings men *' to lift up their hearts and their hands to God
in the heavens."
A comforting persuasion of having obtained pardoning
mercy is common to both kinds of penitents. God's ancient
people, when most incorrigible in their impiety, would
"trust in lying words, come and stand before him in the
house that was called by his name, and say, We are deliv-
ered to do all these abominations." The Israelites in the
wilderness concluded that " God was their rock, and the
most high God their Redeemer, when they flattered him
with their lips, and lied to him with their tongues, and their
hearts were not right with him." And on the other hand,
the true penitent may say with David, '* I said, I will con-
fess my transgressions unto the Lord ; and thou forgavest
me the iniquity of my sins."
In short, it is not the deepest sense of sin or guilt, nor
the most distressing sorrow on that account ; it is not the
fear of God's wrath, nor the greatest external reformation
of life ; it is not the most diligent external attendance upon
duty, nor the most quieting persuasion of having made our
peace with God, nor all these together, that will prove a
man sincerely penitent ; for all these may be, and have
been attained by mere hypocrites, and often are found
with the false as well as the true professor.
MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. J
Having, by way of precaution, made these remarks, I
now proceed directly to consider the distinction between
LEGAL AND EVANGELICAL REPENTANCE.
1. A le^al repentance flows only from a sense of danger
and fear of lorath ; but evangelical repentance is a true
mourning for sin, and earnest desire of deliverance from it.
When the conscience of a sinner is alarmed with a sense
of his dreadful guilt and danger, it must necessarily remon-
strate against those impieties which threaten him with ruin.
Hence those frights and terrors which we so commonly see
in awakened sinners. Their sins, especially some grosser
enormities of their lives, stare them in the face, with their
peculiar aggravations. They are brought upon their knees
before God to acknowledge their sins, and to cry for mercy ;
and now conscience, like a flaming sword, perhaps keeps
them from their former course of impiety. And what is all
this repentance, but mere terror and fear of hell? It is
true, the law sometimes proves a schoolmaster to drive sin-
ners to Christ ; and conviction of sin, and a legal repent-
ance, are a necessary preparative to a saving conversion ;
but these alone give no claim to the promise of the Gospel.
The house may be thus empty, swept, and garnished but
for the reception of seven worse spirits than were driven
out of it; and a sinner may thus " escape the pollutions of
the world," and yet have "his latter end worse than the
beginning."
If, on the other hand, we consider the character of a
sincere gosi^el repentance, though such legal terrors may
lead to its exercise, they do not belong to its nature ; nor
are they any part of it. Sin itself becomes the greatest
burden and aversion to a truly penitent soul. "I hate,"
says the psalmist, ** every false way." "0 wretched man
4 MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE.
that I am!" says the apostle, ''who shall deliver me from
the body of this death?" Thus the penitent groans, being
burdened ; not for fear of hell, such fear being no part of
true repentance, though it may sometimes accompany it,
but from an affecting, humbling sense of sin. His language
is, "I acknowledge my transgressions, and my sin is ever
before me. Mine iniquities are gone over my head ; as a
heavy burden they are too heavy for me. Deliver me from
all my transgressions. Let not my sins have dominion over
me. Innumerable evils have compassed me about: mine
iniquities have taken hold upon me, so that I am not able
to look up ; they are more than the hairs of my head ;
therefore my heart faileth me. Be pleased, 0 Lord, to
dehver me : O Lord, make haste to help me." As the true
penitent longs for more and more victory over his corrup-
tions, so is he most watchful, prayerful, and in earnest to
mortify his lusts, and to cut off all supplies of sin. There
is nothing so grievous to him as sin, and nothing which he
so earnestly desires as a nearer approach to that blessed
state, w^here '' nothing can enter which defileth or worketh
abomination."
Here you see the difference between being driven from a
course of sinning by the lashes of an awakened conscience,
and loathing ourselves in our own sight, for all our iniqui-
ties and abominations. The former is merely the fruit of
self-love, which prompts the soul to fly from danger: the
latter is the exercise of a vital principle, which separates the
soul from sin, and engages the whole man in a continued
opposition to it.
2. A legal repentance flows from imhelief; but an evan-
gelical repentance is the fruit of saving faith.
I have shown that a legal repentance is effected by fear-
MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. 5
ful apprehensions of hell. And whence this fear and ter-
ror? Has not the Gospel provided a glorious relief for
such distresses, and opened a blessed door of hope for the
greatest sinners ? Is not pardon and salvation freely oflfered
to all that will accept a blessed Saviour and his saving ben-
efits ? Is not the blood of Christ sufficient to cleanse from
all sin, however aggravated ? Why then do they not cheer-
fully fly for refuge to this hope set before them ? Alas,
they can see no safety in it ! The law of God condemns
their disobedience ; conscience joins it, and hence their only
refuge is resolutions, reformations, duties, penance, or some
such self-righteous methods, to pacify God's justice and
^uiet conscience. The defect of their endeavors and attain-
ments creates new terrors ; their terrors excite new endeav-
ors; and thus they go on, without ''attaining to the law of
righteousness, because they seek it not of faith, but as it
were by the works of the law." They may, it is true, have
some respect to Christ, in this their legal progress. They
may hope that God will accept them for Christ's sake.
They may use his name in their prayers for pardon, while
they dare not depend upon the merits of his blood for the
remission of their sins, and a freedom from condemnation.
And what is all this but a secret hope that the redemption
of Christ will add such merit to their frights and fears,
reformations and duties, as to make them atone for their
sins, and purchase the favor of God ? So that all their
penitential appearances are nothing but the workings of
unbelief.
The true -penitent approaches God's presence with a
deep impression of his guilt and umvorthiness, and of his
just desert of an eternal rejection from God. But then he
comes before a mercy-seat. Though he is forced to acknow-
6 MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE.
ledge that if God should mark iniquity he could not stand
before him, he yet remembers that "with God there is
forgiveness, that he may be feared;" and "that with him
there is plenteous redemption." He looks to the blood of
Christ as what alone can cleanse away his numerous and
aggravated sins, and from thence he takes encouragement
to mourn out the psalmist's language, "Wash me thor-
oughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.
Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean ; wash me, and
I shall be whiter than the snow." This is the prospect
which both encourages and invigorates his cries for mercy,
and imbitters his sins to him ; and which makes him loathe
them all, and long for dehverance from them all. " Is God
infinitely merciful and ready to forgive," says the penitent
soul, "and have I been so basely ungrateful as to sin
against such astonishing goodness, to affront and abuse such
mercy and love ! Is sin so hateful to God, that his own
dear Son must die ? How vile, how polluted and abomin-
able must I then appear in the eyes of his holiness and
justice, that am nothing but defilement and guilt, from the
crown of my head to the soles of my feet — ^nothing but
wounds, and bruises, and putrefying sores ! Has the blessed
Saviour suffered his Father's wrath for my sins ? Have
they nailed him to the cross, and brought him under the
agonies of an accursed death ; and shall I be ever recon-
ciled to my lusts any more, and go on to crucify the Son of
God afresh ? May I obtain strength from the Lord Jesus
Christ for victory over my corruptions ; and shall I not
both resolve in his strength against them, and lie at his feet,
that ' the law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus may make
me free from the law of sin and death ?* Have I dishon-
ored God so much already, loaded my precious Saviour
MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. 7
with so many indignities, and brought sucli a weight of
guilt upon myself ; and is it not now high time to bid an
utter defiance to my most darling lusts, the greatest ene-
mies to God and my own soul ?" Such is the language of
a gospel repentance.
You cannot but see the great distinction, and even con-
trariety, between a guilty flight of soul from God, like
Adam after his fall, and an humbhnor self-condemnino^ flio-ht
to God's pardoning mercy, like the prodigal, when return-
ing to his Father's house ; between legal, slavish, self-
righteous endeavors to atone for our sins and make our
peace with God, and repairing only to the blood of Christ
for cleansing from all sin ; between mourning for our guilt
and danger, and mourning for our sins, as they are against
God, against a precious Saviour, against infinite mercy and
love ; and, in a word, between attempting a new life by
the strength of our own resolutions and endeavors, and
looking only to the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ for
grace and strength, as well as pardon and freedom from
condemnation.
3. A legal repentance flows from an aversion to God and
his holy law ; but evangelical repentance from love to both.
The distress, the terror and amazement that awakened
sinners are under, arise from their dreadful apprehensions of
God and his terrible justice. They know they have greatly
provoked him, and are afraid of his wrath ; and therefore
want some covert, where they may hide themselves from
his presence. They might before, perhaps, have some
pleasing apprehensions of God, while they considered him
as being all mercy without justice ; and while they could
hope for pardon, and yet live in their sins. But, now they
have some sense of his holiness and justice, he appears an
8 MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE.
infinite enemy, and therefore most terrible to their souls.
They are consulting, indeed, some way to be at peace with
him, because they are afraid the controversy will issue in
their destruction. They resolve upon new obedience, from
the same motives that slaves obey their severe, tyrannical
masters ; while the rule of their obedience is directly con-
trary to the bent, bias, and disposition of their souls. Were
the penalty of the law taken away, their aversion to it
would quickly appear, and they would soon embrace their
beloved lusts with the same pleasure and delight as former-
ly. This is frequently exemplified in those who wear off
their convictions and reformations together, and notwith-
standing all their former religious appearances, discover the
alienation of their hearts to God and his law by their sinful
lives, and, as the apostle expresses it, show themselves
*' enemies in their minds, by wicked works."
But, on the contrary, the sincere gospel penitent sees an
admirable beauty and excellency in a life of holiness, and
therefore groans after higher attainments in it. He is sen-
sible how much he has transgressed the law of God, how
very far he is departed from the purity and holiness of the
divine nature. This is the burden of his soul. Hence it is
that he often walks in heaviness, and waters his couch with
tears. He mourns, not because the law is so strict, or the
penalty so severe, for he esteems " the law to be holy, and
the commandment holy, just, and good ;" but he mourns,
that though *' the law be spiritual," he is " carnal, sold un-
der sin." He mourns, that his nature is so contrary to God,
that his practice is so contrary to his will, and that he can
make no better progress in mortifying the deeds of the flesh,
in regulating his affections, appetites, and passions, and in
living to God. He breathes with the same earnestness after
MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. 9
sanctification, as after freedom from wrath. He does not
want to have the law bend to his corruptions, but to have
his heart and hfe fully subjected to the law and will of God.
There is nothing he so much desires as freedom from sin,
proficiency in faith and holiness, and a life of fellowship with
God. "O," says the penitent believer, "what a wicked
heart have I, that is so estranged from the holy nature of
God, and from his righteous law ! What a guilty w^retch
have I been, who have walked so contrary to the glorious
God, have trampled upon his excellent perfections, violated
his holy law, and made so near an approach even to the
nature of the devil ! ■ O for the cleansing efficacy of the
blood of Christ, and the renewing influences of his Holy
Spirit, to purify this sink of pollution, and to sanctify these
depraved aff"ections of my soul. ' Create in me a clean
heart, 0 God, and renew a right spirit within me.' Let me
be a partaker of the divine nature, and be brought near to
God, whatever else be denied me. ' 0 that my ways were
directed to keep thy statutes.' " Such are the aspirations
of sincere repentance.
Thus the legal penitent looks upon God with dread, ter-
ror, and aversion of soul : the evangelical penitent mourns
his distance from him, and longs to be more transformed
into his image. The one still loves his sins, in his heart,
though he mourns that there is a law to punish them ; the
other hates all his sins without reserve, and groans under
the burden of them, because they are contrary to God and
his holy law. The obedience of the one is by mere con-
straint ; the imperfections of the other are matter of con-
tinual grief, and he is constantly longing and striving after
greater degrees of grace and holiness. The one can find no
inward and abiding cpmplacency in the service of God ; th^
VOL. YITI. 41
10 MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE.
other runs in the way of his commandments with dehght,
and takes more pleasure in obedience than in any thing else.
4. A legal repentance ordinarily flows from discourage-
ment and despondency ; but an evangelical repentance is ac-
companied with a confiding trust in God^s mercy.
I have already considered how a legal repentance is
excited and maintained by terrors of conscience and fearful
apprehensions of the wrath of God. Some, indeed, by their
external reformations, pacify conscience, and cry peace to
their souls ; but while their concern continues, their de-
sponding fears are the very life of it. They are afraid that
God will never pardon and accept svich rebels as they have
been ; and though they dare not neglect duty, they come
with horror into the presence of God, as to an inexorable
judge ; and have nothing to keep their souls from sinking
into despair but their good designs and endeavors, which
yet are too defective to give them comfortable hope. And
what is all this but a most unorrateful undervaluinof the
blood of Christ, limiting the goodness and mercy of God,
and an implicit denying the truth of the whole Gospel of
God our Saviour ?
On the other hand, though the true gospel penitent may
have a deeper impression of the greatness of his guilt than
even the awakened, terrified legalist himself, yet he dare not
despair of God's mercy. A fear and jealousy of our own
sincerity may be consistent with true repentance, and per-
haps sometimes serve to further its progress ; yet all doubts
of the faithfulness of the gospel promises, of the extensive-
ness of the divine mercy, and fears of our exclusion from
the gospel offer ; all apprehensions of our not being elected,
of our having sinned away the day of grace, or sinned
against the Holy Ghost ; and all imaginations that our sins
MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. H
are so circumstanced as not to admit of pardoning mercy,
are inconsistent with the actings of a true repentance. A
sincere penitent looks over the highest mountains which are
raised before him by the greatness of his sins, his own mis-
giving heart, or the temptations of Satan, into an ocean of
infinite goodness and mercy. Thither he will fly, and there
he will hope, let his case appear ever so dark, and though
every thing seems to make against him. And the more
lively and comfortable his hope is, the more he is humbled
and abased for his sins, and the more vigorous are his en-
deavors after a life of new obedience.
" I confess," says the truly penitent soul, "that my sins
are like the stars of the firmament, and like the sand on the
sea-shore, for multitude ; that they are of a scarlet and
crimson dye ; and that it is of the infinite patience of God
that such a guilty wretch is out of hell. But yet, great
and dreadfully aggravated as are my sins, the merit of a
Redeemer's blood is sufficient to atone for them all ; and
infinite mercy is still greater than my greatest sins. I will,
therefore, cast my guilty soul at the footstool of a sovereign
God, and rely on infinite mercy through a Redeemer. I will
depend upon the blood of Christ, which cleanseth from all
sin. O how will mercy triumph over such sins as mine.
How great glory will God bring to the riches of his infinite
grace, in the salvation of such a sinner as I, if ever I am
saved. How will heaven ring with eternal hallelujahs on
my account. Surely, I have sinned enough already. Let
me no more add to the number and guilt of my sins, by
distrust of God's mercy, or by doubting the sincerity of his
invitations.
5. A legal repentance is teinporary, wearing off with the
convictions of conscience which occasion it ; but an evan-
12 MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE.
gelical repentance is the daily exercise of the true Chris-
tian,
We have sad and numerous instances of those who, for
a while, appear under the greatest remorse for sin, and yet
quickly wear off all their impressions, and return to the
same course of impiety which occasioned their distress and
terror ; and thereby declare to the world that their good-
ness, like Ephraim's, was but as *' a morning cloud and the
early dew." And besides these, there seem to be some who
quiet conscience and speak peace to their souls, from their
having been in distress and terror for their sins, from their
reformation of some grosser immoralities, and from a formal
course of duty. They have repented, they think, and there-
fore conclude themselves at peace with God, and seem to
have no great care or concern about either their former im-
pieties or their daily transgressions. They conclude them-
selves in a converted state, and are therefore easy, careless,
and secure. These may think, and perhaps speak loftily
of their experiences; they may be blown up with joyful
apprehensions of their safe state, but have no impressions
of their sins, no mourning after pardon, no groaning under
the burden of a wicked heart, imperfect duties, and renewed
provocations against God. They perform their duties in a
careless manner, with a trifling, remiss frame of soul, while
the great concerns of an unseen, eternal world, are but
little in their minds ; and all their religion is a mere cold
formality. They maintain the form, but are unconcerned
about the power of godliness.
On the other hand, a saving evangelical repentance in-
volves a continual self- abasement and abhorrence of all sin,
both in the heart and life. The true penitent does not for-
get his past sins, and grow careless and unconcerned about
MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. 13
them, as soon as he obtains peace in his conscience, and a
comforting hope that he is reconciled to God ; but the
clearer evidences he obtains of the divine favor, the more
does he loathe, abhor, and condemn himself for sin, the
more vile does he seem in his own eyes, and the more ag-
gravated and enormous do his past sins appear. A sense
of pardoning mercy makes Paul appear to himself " the
chief of sinners," and speak of himself as a pattern of hope
to all that shall come after him. The true penitent not
only continues to abhor himself on account of his past guilt
and defilement, but finds daily cause to rencAV his repent-
ance before God. He finds so much deadness, formality,
and hypocrisy in his duties, so much carnaUty, worldly-
mindedness, and unbelief in his heart, so much prevalence
of his sinful affections, appetites, and passions, and so many
foils by the sin that easily besets him, that he cannot but
''groan, being burdened, while he is in this tabernacle."
Repentance, therefore, is the daily continued exercise of the
Christian. ''Have I hope," says the penitent soul, "that
God has pardoned my sins ? What an instance of pardon-
ing mercy is this ! How adorable is that wonderful grace,
which has plucked such a brand out of the fire ! And am
I still daily oflfending against such mercy and love ? Am I
yet doing so little for him, who has done so much for me ?
Ah, vile, sinful heart ! Ah, base ingratitude to such amaz-
ing goodness ! 0 for more victory over my corruptions ;
for more thankfulness for such mercies ; for more spiritu-
ahty and heavenly-mindedness ! What need have I, every
day, to have this polluted soul washed in the blood of
Christ, and to repair to the glorious Advocate with the
Father for the benefit of his intercession ! Not a step can
I take in my spmtual progress without fresh suppHes from
VOL. VIII.
41*
14 MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE.
the fountain of grace and strength ; and yet how often am
I provoking him to withdraw his influences, in whom is all
my hope and confidence. * 0 wretched man that I am ! who
shall deliver me from this body of death ?' " Thus the
true penitent " goes with his face Zionward, mourning as
he goes." And thus, in his highest attainments of comfort
and joy, will he find cause to be deeply humbled before
God, and to wrestle with him for renewed pardon, and new
supplies of strengthening and quickening grace.
The difference between these two sorts of penitents is
like that between the running of water in the paths after a
shower, and the streams flowing from a living fountain ; a
legal repentance lasting no longer than the terrors which
occasion it, but an evangelical repentance being a continued
war with sin.
6. A legal repentance does at most produce only 3. par-
tial and external reformation ; but an evangelical repentance
is a total change of heart and life, a universal turning from
sm to G-od.
As some of the more gi-oss iniquities most commonly
lead the way to that distress and terror which is the life of
a legal and insincere repentance ; so a reformation of those
sins too frequently wears off the impression, and gives peace
and rest to the troubled conscience, without any further
change. Or, at best, there will be some darling lusts re-
tained, some right hand or right eye spared, some sweet
morsel rolled under the tongue. If the legal penitent be
afraid of the sins of commission, he may still live in the
omission or the careless performance of known duty. Or,
if he be more forward in the duties of God's immediate
worship, he may still live in acts of injustice, strife, and
uncharitableness towards men. If he shows some zeal and
MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. 15
activity in the service of God, lie will yet, perhaps, have
his heart and affections inordinately attached to the world,
and pursue it as the object of his chief desire and delight.
If he avoids all open sins, he yet little regards the sins of
his heart, but lives in envy, malice, pride, carnality, unbe-
lief, or some other such heart- defiling sin. To finish his
character, whatever seeming progress he may make in re-
ligion, his heart is "not right with God," but is still going
after his idols, still estranged from the power of godliness.
The character of the sincere penitent is directly contrary
to this. He finds, indeed, continued occasion to lament the
great imperfections of his heart and life, and accordingly
seeks renewed pardon and cleansing in the blood of Christ.
But though he has " not already attained, nor is already
perfect," he is " pressing towards perfection." He is watch-
ing, striving against all his corruptions ; aiming at, and
endeavoring after further conformity to God, in all holy
conversation and godliness. He is never satisfied with a
partial reformation, Avith external duty, or with any thing
short of a life of vital piety. He does not renounce one
lust and retain another ; content himself with the duties of
the first table of the law, and neglect those of the second ;
nor quiet himself in a life of mere formal godliness ; nor
can he rest till he "rejoices in the testimony of his con-
science, that in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with
fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of God, he has his con-
versation in the world." All the actings of his mind, as
well as his external conduct, fall under his strictest inspec-
tion, and he is ever earnest to approve himself to Him who
"knows his thoughts afar ofi^'." His reformation extends not
only to the devotions of the church, but of his family and
his closet ; not only to his conversation, but to his thoughts
16 MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE.
and affections ; not only to the worship of God, but to the
duties of every relation he sustains among men ; and, in a
word, his repentance produces heavenly-mindedness, hu-
mility, meekness, charity, patience, forgiving of injuries,
self-denial ; and is accompanied with all other fruits and
graces of the blessed Spirit. " It is the desire of my soul,"
says the sincere penitent, '' to keep the way of the Lord,
and never depart from my God. I would refrain my feet
from every evil way, and walk within my house with a per-
fect heart. I know I have to do with a God who trieth the
heart ; I would, therefore, set the Lord always before me,
and serve him with a perfect heart and a willing mind."
A legal repentance is an external reformation only, des-
titute of all the graces of the blessed Spirit. True repent-
ance is a change of the heart, of the will and affections, as
well as of the outward conversation ; a change which is
accompanied with all the fruits and graces of the Spirit of
God, The one aims at just so much religion as will keep
the mind easy, and calm the ruffles of an awakened con-
science ; the other aims at a holy, humble, watchful, and
spiritual walk with God, and rests in no degree of attain-
ments whatsoever.
Reader, I have thus laid before you some of the distin-
guishing marks of true repentance, not to gratify curiosity,
or as a subject of useless speculation, but that, renouncing
all sin, and casting yourself on the mercy of Christ, you
may, through the sanctifying influences of the Holy Spirit,
exercise and practise that repentance xvhich is '^iinto life, not
to he repented of.^^
i¥o. 396.
MISTAKES OP PARENTS.
BY REV. JOHN A. VAUGHAN, D. D.
The attention of parents is here invited to the consider-
ation of their pecuHar mistakes, duties, and encourage-
ments ; principally the first.
OBJECT OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS MISTAKEN.
The Sabbath-school is an important help to the parent
in training his child for God; but its object is too often mis-
apprehended. In practice the parent seems to say, " My
duties in the religious instruction of my offspring are now
much relieved, if not entirely superseded. The teacher
will see to this ; he is far more capable than I am. If I
say too much, I shall only weary my child. I will send
him regularly to the school, and there he will grow wise
unto salvation."
Here you may date the origin of many a child's want of
interest in the Sabbath-school. Here you may see the cause
of that unwilling mind, that wandering eye, that withering
indifference, which so often meets the patient teacher, when
the Sabbath lesson is taken in hand, or when the subject of
religion is any way presented to the attention. It is not
usually because you talk of religion that your children are
weary, but because you have not done it earlier, or, doing it,
have been grossly injudicious. It is not enough that you
simply pray with them, and then leave them to their teacher :
you must yourself labor for them, as well as pray. How
can you expect that a pupil who spends but one hour in 168
with his teacher will be essentially benefited, if the remain-
ing 167 of the week are under the influence of a parent
who, it may be, is a warm admirer of Sabbath-schools, but
goes no further ; who never bestows a thought upon the
appointed lesson, or upon the teacher who labors for him,
2 MISTAKES OF PARENTS.
and never accompanies bis children to the school to watch
their growing interest in divine truth ?
But begin early; consult frequently with the teacher; let
your observing pupil have two instructors, who shall be
one in their aim, their desires, their labors, their prayers.
Let this be evident to him. Let him be instructed pleas-
antly in the subject of the lesson at home. Then occasion-
ally, at least, follow him to the school ; manifest that yours
is the ivork of Christian education, and that you employ the
school to assist in it ; and you will not long complain of
want of interest, unless past neglect has hardened the pupil
to indifference. 0, if Sabbath-schools were the common
resort of parents, the united voice of thanksgiving would
much oftener accompany the petition for converting grace.
But all this is far from enough. The hoolcs from the
Sabbath-school library should be carefully inspected, not
only to know their tendency, but that you may converse
upon them, illustrate and apply what you find useful, and
examine your children in what they read. By these means
you will interest them, and check that sad propensity to
seek for novelty rather than improvement, unhappily pro-
moted by the present system of Sabbath-school reading.
Says a learned judge, "I read every book my children bring
into the house, even to the penny sheet."
INQUIRY AT A SABBATH-SCHOOL AS TO PREVIOUS PREPARATION.
The usual amount of this domestic preparation may be
inferred from the following results of inquiries in a respect-
able Sabbath-school. Two questions were put to each pu-
pil. 1. Was your lesson attended to at home? 2. Were
you assisted? Of 184 members of the school, (it being
winter,) 103 were present. To the first question, 66 an-
swered in the affirmative. To the second, 24 ; and these
last were assisted by 1 7 persons — the attention really given
to the lesson being in some of these cases very far from a
careful study. On that day no parent of any pupil visited
the school. Every pupil in a Sabbath-school, even the
youngest, should have an appointed lesson, if it be only a
verse in one of Dr. Watts' hymns for children. And unless
parents set apart a regular time for attending to this lesson,
and see to it themselves, they cannot expect the needful
preparation will be made.
MISTAKES OF PARENTS. 3
TIME GIVEN TO RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION.
Such instruction often loses its weight because it is seen
by children to bear but a very small proportion, in the time
allotted to it, to the various other subjects which are urged
upon their attention. If it really were so important, is their
natural inference, we should hear more of it. Let parents
take this rebuke home, for it is just. It is not enough to
send your child for six hours a day to school, and to allow
him as many more for amusement or some common em-
ployments, and then recite before him, in your evening de-
votions, that religion is the most important subject to which
old or young can possibly attend. Will he believe you ?
Or father, will not your prayers be to him a mere form ?
Instead of thus keeping religion out of sight, there are a
thousand ways in which, by example and by conversation,
you may so mingle the motives to piety with daily business,
and even amusements, that your child shall be at no loss to
determine what rank holiness holds in your heart, and what
rank it should occupy in his. Be on the watch, and you
will not fail in opportunity. Two boys, in a boat on a river,
being upset, were taken from the water nearly exhausted,
and conveyed home. The moment they were sufficiently
recovered, the mother addressed them, and in feeling lan-
guage spoke of their dehverance: "Kneel down, my boys,"
said she, "and let us thank God for your preservation."
Better far than swooning* away w^ith fright, as is too often
the case with a fond mother. A lady who was then pres-
ent remarked, " 1 shall never forget the impressiveness of
that scene."
MODE OF CONVEYING RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION— ILLUSTRATION.
Parents frequently misapprehend the proper mode of
conveying what they most earnestly desire their children
should know and receive. This may arise from mistaken
views of the youthful capacities. There is a beautiful sim-
plicity in the mind of a child, w^hich requires patience and
common sense in the mode of address. There is a freedom
of inquiry peculiar to the intelligent child, which should be
answered with much discretion. A little infant scholar of
four, asked her sister, who was only three years older,
" How can God wipe away the tears from their eyes when
he hasn't got any handkerchief?" "It doesn't mean so,"
4 mSTAKES OF PARENTS.
says her sister; ''it means that he will keep them from cry-
ing." Startling as such queries may sometimes be, it should
always be borne in mind from whence they proceed, and
that much may then be allowed which at another age would
be a direct impropriety. Even a smile in the midst of the
most sacred things, which at forty might betray want of
becoming seriousness, may frequently be expected in the
child of four or of fourteen,
A cause of frequent failure in instruction, is the use of
language not adapted to the capacities and feelings of chil-
dren. A child perhaps rejects a general proposition, when
a circumstance or anecdote within its own compass or ob-
servation, involving the same truth, might be fastened upon
its attention. Parents of deep piety often lose sight of this
law of the mind, and forget that the manner of the Bible
itself is founded upon this very law. It was designed not
only for the learned and reflecting, but for the uncultivated
and the young, who are in this respect on the same footing.
Where an important truth is to be impressed, we find a nar-
ration or a parable is given involving it, and the inference
to the inquiring mind is irresistible, though the submission
of the heart may not immediately follow.
Now follow this plan closely in early religious instruc-
tion. Think not to impress your children Avith eloquent and
elaborate descriptions of holy truth or holy affections, but
proceed by illustration and example. What would cause
the adult Christian to glow with delight, may be lost upon
your little auditor of five, ten, or tAvelve, bent perhaps the
whole time upon some scheme which better suits his active
and impatient little mind and limbs. Suppose your subject
is a particular providence. You have deeply felt the near-
ness of God in some of his dealings, and, full of pious emo-
tion, you seek to arrest your child with the current of your
own reflections. But he is neither able nor willing to un-
derstand, perhaps will not attend, and you are disappointed.
An injury is thus done to you and to him. Now try an-
other mode. Watch your opportunity and improve it. Go
then to the Bible, lead your child gently along the journey
of Abraham to Mount Moriah. The little listener will soon
notice every incident. When you see this, point him to the
uplifted knife; and then, just as the son is about to die be-
neath the hand of the father, vour child will hear the voice
MISTAKES OF PARENTS. 5
of God averting the blow. Tell liim in tlie same way of
Elijah fed by ravens ; or of Joseph's extraordinary history.
Carry him at another time to the plain assertion of Christ,
that not a " sparrow falls to the ground without our heavenly
Father ;" that the very " hairs of our head are all numbered ;"
and now he is prepared for the practical deduction, "Fear
not, ye are of more value than many sparrcws."
KNOWLEDGE OF SIN— CARELESSNESS IN FORGIVING FAULTS.
The principle just illustrated may be applied success-
fully to every important truth of this description. Urge
upon a child continually that all men have sinned, and un-
less he has been otherwise interested in religious inquiry,
these words will soon fall powerless upon the ear. But he
has himself committed some fault which causes uneasiness.
Leave this until you perceive a favorable moment, when
there may be a more than usual sense of God's presence,
perhaps Avhen the activity of the day is past, and your child
is committing himself quietly to rest. Now remind him of
his fault ; show him the unhappiness so closely connected
with sin ; point out some instances of the mournful retribu-
tions of sin, especially in the young, in your own neighbor-
hood. He will at once perceive and feel that there is some-
thing wrong, something unhappy in self-indulgence, and
that he himself is not exempt. Now call sin by its right
name, and it will at least'be known, if not avoided, in what-
ever garb it may appear. This will in most cases be a great
point gained ; and if you avoid the common error of con-
founding a parent's forgiveness with that of God, you may
do much to lead him to the only source of pardon, to the
Saviour. You may soon convince him, that although your
share in the offence may be forgiven, God alone can forgive,
so far as his commands have been broken. How sad the
delusion which here overspreads the Avhole business of edu-
cation ! The child is sorry for a fault ; a lie perhaps has
been told ; some care has been taken to enlighten the con-
science, and he feels its condemning power. He comes to
his parent and asks forgiveness in such a manner that the
parent grants it at once. Now this may be right, but it is
far from enough. Has there been no offence against the
law of God, which parental love cannot clear away ? While
the child thinks the whole account settled, is there not
VOL. vni. 42
6 MISTAKES OF PARENTS.
"written against him a sentence in heaven, where he has
sought no forgiveness ? Never, then, suffer your child to
forget the solemn truth, which was admitted by the Jews
of old, *' Who can forgive sins but God only ?^^ If all sin
is an offence against the great law of love to God, how can
a serious parent dare thus to settle the account and silence
conscience ? As well might the trembling criminal, who
has dipped his hands in blood, think that all is settled,
when a verdict of "not guilty" has been returned in his
favor, or when a pardon is received from the highest author-
ity in the state, or even when his sentence is executed. The
difference is only in degree. In kind it is the same with
the faults of childhood. One who freely and carelessly
forgives a lie may do much to ruin his child.
HEAVENLY EXJOYiMENTS ILLUSTRATED.
The child must be at first approached through the
senses. You must talk of what he can perceive, as the
means of his attaining some idea of things unseen. For
instance, your child has listened with delight to some elo-
quent display of mind ; he has formed very exalted ideas
of the intellect and attainments of others. It is immaterial
whether he has felt this incipient admiration from a lecture,
from an interestinir and intellicrent author, or from listeninfr
to sensible conversation. Now point him to an eternal, an
infinite Mind, and show him that there must be unspeaka-
ble delight to the humble and the holy, in contemplating
the powers and works of such a mind, and that to this de-
light there can be no end.
FRUITS OF RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION NOT ALWAYS EVIDENT AT
THE TIME.
Parents often seem to think that the religious character
of their offspring must receive its whole impress in some
single act. Struck by extraordinary cases of youthful con-
version, and trusting that the special influences of the Spirit
will cause the light suddenly to shine fully in the heart,
there is a strong leaning to the belief that this favored mo-
ment must be very distinctly marked. Now, with God
such may be the case, but not perhaps with you. If it
were, you might know too much ; and it would not be as
with the "wind," which "bloweth where it listeth, and
MISTAKES OF PARENTS. 7
thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it
Cometh or whither it goeth." No ; you must be stead}^ and
unceasing in your influence, your instructions, your means.
God may work with them or without them, as he shall see
fit; but your labor in the Lord shall not be in vain. " In
the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not
thy hand, for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either
this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good."
DISCOURAGEMENT.— DR. MORRISON.— ISAAC BARROW.
Closely connected with this, is the very common mis-
take of discouragement. No feeling of this kind should
ever prevail with the faithful parent. Want of success
should lead to self-inquiry, to vigorous effort, to a faithful
study of the subject in all its parts, but never to discour-
agement. Such a feeling in the Christian betrays a want
of humble confidence in the God of grace. The case of Dr.
Morrison cannot be too often urged — the ragged, aban-
doned, and hardened Sabbath-school boy, about to be dis-
missed by his discouraged teacher — one eftbrt more, and
he becomes the subject of penitence and of faith — then the
learned and indefatigable translator for the Chinese, and
then a star of first magnitude in the East, reflecting beams
from the Sun of righteousness that may light millions to
glory. Such was the early stupidity and hopeless conduct
of that sound English divine, Isaac Barrow, that, strange
to say, his father, in utter despair of his graceless son, cried
out, that if called to part with any child, he hoped it might
be Isaac. But God knew better.
THE SAILOR CONVERTED BY MEANS OF THREE WORDS.
A simple fact or two w^ill show how it may be with
every one that is born of the Spirit, and how it is with
many. A rough sailor who kept watch on deck during the
still hours of midnight, becomes thoughtful. On a sudden
the words, *' Pray loithout ceasing,'^ fall upon his memory,
and then upon his conscience. What are these strange
terms, and where did the command come from? He is
roused to inquire, and soon recollects that, seven years be-
fore, he had strolled over London on the Sabbath. On
passing through the immense building of St. Paul's, he had
observed in one part, separated from the rest, a congrega-
8 MISTAKES OF PARENTS.
tion at worship. He had looked in and remained long
enough to hear the Avords, ''Pray without ceasing." He
had forgotten them, but now the contrast between the com-
mand and his neglect is forced upon him. He seeks divine
forgiveness. He remembers that his chest contains at the
bottom a despised and unopened Bible, which a careful
mother had placed there years before. His impressions are
deepened, the Holy Spirit sanctifies to him the truth, and
"behold, he prayeth."
A YOUNG MAN CONVINCED OF SIN WHILE DISTURBING A
SABBATH-SCHOOL.
Some time since a young man of Bellows Falls deter-
mined to add to his Sunday sports and amuse his ungodly
associates by a visit of intrusion to the Sabbath- school. He
had scarcely obtained firm footing within the room, when
this reflection came over him, he knew not how, but to
shake it off was impossible: "What motiv^e can influence
so many teachers to spend their time, their means, and un-
ceasino: toil in the relimous instruction of others ? It must
be something very different from that which actuates me in
disturbing them. Their reward is not here ; mine is the
wages of sin." He is for some time riveted to the floor,
and when a teacher approaches with a friendly invitation,
he suff'ers himself to be led like a lamb, and joins a class.
His ungodly companions are his no longer, and he joins,
shortly, the great company of those who are rejoicing on
their way to heaven.
Now, in each of the above cases, who will say that other
means, applied faithfully, might not have availed, and saved
years of sin and sorrow ? But who will say, in view of
such cases, that there is ever ground for despair ? Still
more, when we see, in ten thousand other cases, sorrowful
warnings against delay, what parent, whose heart has been
warmed with the hope of the Gospel, will venture to omit
a single act of fidelity to his off"spring ? His hope of suc-
cess will rest only upon such a conscientious and unremit-
ting faithfulness, that he can joyfully leave the result with
God, confiding in his promise. Do your duty, and " hope
that your child will be a Christian."
MISTAKES OF PARENTS. 9
CONTRAST.
The principle of contrast is too seldom improved. This
appears to be a prominent feature in that word which " is
quick and powerful, sharper than a two-edged sword :" the
life of sin and its appalling consequences on the one hand ;
the life of holiness with its cheering and peaceful posses-
sions on the other. Let parents follow the example, and
bring this principle more frequently into view. Pride may
long affect to deny the difference, and refuse to make the
self-application ; but enlightened conscience may at length
be goaded on to a decision. It is not always requisite to
picture the transgressor's self. Show him sometimes his
reverse, and sin will often defeat its own designs, by bring-
ing out in glowing colors its affecting contrast. When a
portrait of impiety has been in vain presented, and the truth
is resisted or evaded, then show him what he should be,
what he may be, but what he is not. It may suit his pecu-
liar temper and excite inquiry, though not a word may have
been said in personal condemnation. No one can describe
to another his heart so well as himself can see it, provided
he will but look ; and this looking may be induced by means
as various as the tempers of individuals. Says Cecil, that
devoted man of God, "Parental influence hangs on the
wheels of evil. I had a pious mother, who would talk to
me, and weep as she talked. I flung out of the house with
an oath, but wept too when I got into the street. Sympa-
thy is the powerful engine of the mother."
KINDNESS AND AUTHORITY.
It is a difficult matter for any suitably to mingle kind-
ness and authority in urging the claims of religion. In
kindness there is danger of loose indifterence, or at least the
appearance of it ; in authority, the parent fears producing
formality, and perhaps disgust. Let him distinguish here
between the feelings and the judgment of a child. The
feelings may, by no means, be of that obstinately perverted
character which the same inclinations would imply, were
the judgment mature ; and yet how many parents either
command the performance of religious duties Avhen persua-
sion would be sufficient, or on the other hand, improperly
leave the decision entirely to the youthful judgment when
authority is necessary ! How many of the young, for ex-
voL. vm. 42*
10 MISTAKES OF PARENTS.
ample, are just requested to attend the Sabbath-school.
Nothing is felt of its importance by the child himself, and a
little feeling of disrelish decides upon a step of perhaps
immeasurable consequence to an immortal soul. With a
well-educated child the decided ivish of a parent will be
equivalent to a command ; and where it is not, the command
should certainly be given and enforced. A child might be
left to neglect public worship, the day-school, and every
privilege, for want of parental decision, with just as much
propriety as the benefit of a Sabbath-school.
YOUTHFUL DIFFICULTIES.
There will be with the young peculiar difficulties, and
no less in the formation of religious character than in other
things. These difficulties should be considered, and every
proper means taken to remove them. It will not do to treat
all the children even of one family alike in all things : a
delicacy and discrimination are requisite, too often lost sight
of in a hasty mode of family rule. The first movements of
a religious cast are often extremely susceptible. They may
be extinguished by a rough and unexpected treatment even
of a Christian parent; or from a reserve frequently accom-
panying these impressions, they may remain without sym-
pathy, because unknown. On the other hand, they may,
by a gentle cooperation, in humble dependence on divine
grace, be fanned into a pure, steady, and heavenward flame.
HOME MADE INTERESTING TO THE YOUNG.
Sufficient pains are not generally taken to make home
interesting and pleasant to the young. Well has it been
said, that children should feel convinced that they may be
more wicked elsewhere, but that they cannot be more happy.
If this conviction is strongly fixed at an early age, there
will be little desire for the false excitements of distant pleas-
ure. There is a restlessness at this age, which must receive
a right direction, or it will infallibly take a wrong one. If
not in some measure consulted and made happy at home,
company will be sought abroad, and that almost of neces-
sity of a corrupting tendency. A parent, therefore, who
expects his son or daughter to grow up with warm domes-
tic attachments, and to seek their enjoyments principally at
home, must endeavor to render those enjoyments satisfying.
MISTAKES OF PARENTS. H
He must sympathize with his children in their little interests,
and thus gain an influence which he may use for God. In-
struction and amusement must, for this, be pleasantly and
systematically introduced. Listen to your child when he
speaks of his little troubles and joys, and he will listen to
you when you speak of God and the Bible. Gain his ear,
and you may then whisper the things which concern his
everlasting peace. But it would be unnatural to expect
him to give up the fascinations of extended intercourse for
home, Avithout any thing to fill the void.
MATERIAL CARE.
Man's life is his term of preparation for the scene be-
yond the grave ; but it has been correctly observed, that
practically considered, this season of preparation is in many
cases over, long before the close of life. The chief hope
of the parent lies before his child has attained the age of
twenty ; and a father has usually but little continued influ-
ence over his son after he is fifteen : even before this period
the busy occupations of life leave the burden chiefly upon
the mother, who can scarcely control an unruly spirit over
ten or twelve. If, then, she would have her son a shining
light in the regions of grace, she must think nothing of her
ten years of labor and care for him, in comparison with the
fearful loss to be avoided, and the more than worlds to be
gained. O think how much one Christian mother does in
training up for God some devoted servant — a Whitefield, a
Scott, or a Chalmers — or who even o-ains over a Washingr-
ton, or a Wilberforce, to the pure and disinterested love of
his fellow-man ! She sets at work a moral power which
goes on accumulating for ever.
PATERXAL CARE.
But let the father of a growing family also remember,
pressing as his business may be, that very much depends
upon his devoting systematically some portion of his time
to that instruction of his family which no money can pro-
cure. Let him by no means plead ignorance : if he begins
in time, he can at least grow Avith his children in their
attainments. He should remember that in a course of years
a large family, brought up on sound and conscientious
principles, will cost less than one child of expensive and
12 MISTAKES OF PARENTS.
dissipated habits. He should remember also that his chil-
dren have eternal interests, for which he is bound to consult.
And when is the child to meet the parent in this search
for goodly pearls, if the one is wholly occupied in school
through the day, and the other in business through the
evening ?
HIRING CHILDREN TO BE GOOD.
There is an apparently trifling but very pernicious prac-
tice which often prevails, of hiring children to do their
duty, especially when of that description which is plainly
commanded by God. If you pay them for obeying you,
for attending upon religious instruction, or performing any
religious duty, you lay the foundation for an inveterate
perversion of heart and character. Ev^ery worthy motive
is thus shut out, and a low feehng of selfish barter intro-
duced. The plan may be less questionable, when occasionally
applied to encourage any system of industry, or persever-
ance, or self-denial not so obviously required by moral
obligation ; but the simple fact that God has commanded,
should silence every selfish inclination, and be felt in all its
singleness.
DISSIPATING AMUSEMENTS— VICE.
Too often parents and even professed Christians are
found indulging their children in amusements inconsistent
with the grand business of Christian education, and perhaps
also in vices which destroy the sensibility of conscience.
Hard indeed must it be for a parent to interpose his au-
thority, when such habits have been formed through his
own neglect, or want of judgment, or silent acquiescence.
But it must be done, or the double sin will lie at his door.
The affecting example of Eli speaks in solemn and awful
tones of rebuke to all who, from any cause, indulge their
offspring in any known immorality. " I will judge his
house for ever for the iniquity which he knoweth, because
his sons made themselves vile, and he restrained them not."
EDUCATION TO BE STUDIED AS A SYSTEM.
If any pursuit requires study and system, it is parental
duty in the business of education ; which, to be complete,
requires the aid of religious principle from the foundation
MISTAKES OF PARENTS. 13
to the topstone ; and yet liow remiss are parents on this
point. After bringing forward the older children, perhaps
with injury at every step, they begin to see the sad effects
of errors in judgment, even where the best intentions may
have existed. They now reverse the system, but too late ;
and, passing from one extreme to another, all is difficulty
and anxiety. The elder pervert the younger ; and the
difference in plan adds perplexity to the whole scene. It
is the part of wisdom to avail ourselves of the experience
of others, and yet how hard to acknowledge that we need
it ! Otherwise, how is it that most lamentable mistakes in
education, after having been often and clearly pointed out,
are still followed in so many families, leading on to disap-
pointment, disgrace, and ruin ?
INSTANCES OF SUCCESS.— MODES OF ATTAINING IT.
To encourage parents in the religious education of their
children, God has said, " Train up a child in the way he
should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it."
So far, then, as a parent fails in what he might perform, if
rightly instructed in his work, he is accountable for the
result, and for the prevalence of evil. And when there are
striking instances of success, they should be published and
examined by others, and the best modes of proceeding
should be sought out, and adopted systematically by all
around. A few plain books of direction should be in the
hands of every intelligent parent. Take a family as an
example : the facts can be vouched for. The parents of
this family are of exemplary piety ; the children (seven in
number) all intelligent, well informed, and well educated,
cheerful and active in the cause of their Redeemer, being
all apparently of decided and winning piety. The five sons
are in the ministry, or preparing for it. Is there nothing to
be learned from such parents ? Go one step further. Says
the father of this family to a female friend, "To you,
madam, we are largely indebted for our success." " How ?"
says the astonished acquaintance. " By lending us, many
years since, a copy of the little work. Elementary Princi-
ples of Education." Now, although this Avork is by no
means a sufficient guide in Christian education, yet its use-
fulness to these parents proves that all justifiable means
are to be sought for gaining an influence over the young.
14 MISTAKES OF PARENTS.
Let another case be added. The mother of that ardent
little Christian, Mary Lothrop, whose simple biography has
excited so strong an interest in every reader, was asked by
a friend how she succeeded in cultivating the religious affec-
tions of her children, and fixing so deeply and so early such
strong impressions of Christian obedience and faith. Her
answer Avas full of interest and of sound philosophy, worthy
the attention of parents, teachers, and even divines, and
was to this effect : " I do not take the opportunity when
mij own heart is warm in devotion, but I seek the moments
when my children are interested and tender, and then I lead
them to duty and to God. I then labor, and then my
labors are blessed."
PARENTAL MEETINGS— MATERNAL ASSOCIATIONS.
Valuable hints are to be gathered by interchange of
thought and comparison of experience. It is not improba-
ble, if we may judge from experiments already made, that
social rehgious meetings may hereafter be conducted with
a more distinct reference to classification, and connected
with mutual instructions in the duties of life peculiar to
each portion of a Christian community. The Sabbath-
school is one step towards this. Maternal societies may be
another ; and we may hereafter find parents associated
together to study out faithfully their responsibilities, and
the Avay to meet them. Thus, vastly more energy, and
prayer, and faith will be enlisted for securing the early con-
version of children and youth.
WARNINGS TO PARENTS NOT PIOUS.
The foregoing remarks have been addressed principally
to those personally interested in religion. But there are
parents who feel that they are themselves destitute of piety,
and yet are deeply concerned that their children should be
brought up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.
They wish success to Sabbath- schools, and send their chil-
dren. Theb' language practically is, " My beloved offspring,
I feel the importance of piety, of seeking that peace which
the world can neither give nor take away. To be safe, you
must remember your Creator in the days of your youth,
and walk in his ways, and give yourselves to his service. I
advise you urgently to do this ; but if you follow my advice — •
MISTAKES OF PARENTS. 15
and I trust you will — we must part, and perhaps for ever.
You will be rising higher and higher towards the mansions
of the just ; you will be ' seeking for glory, honor, immor-
tality ;' ' eternal life ' will be your reward ; but I shall
most likely go on. My habits are fixed, and the grave, I
fear, will find me as I now am. I am moral, and kind to
others ; but I am too old to think now of turning heartily
to God. I am not happy, and have no reason to think I
ever shall be ; but you may rejoice for ever." Strange,
dreadful inconsistency ! and yet how many parents take
their children by the hand, and without giving them a
single warning, lead them with all the force of example
steadily onwards towards the grave, without God and with-
out hope ! 0 how immensely important, then, that parents
should possess a living faith, and show the way ; and by
their own Christian character, by their unceasing instruc-
tions and prayers, set in full view before their youthful
dependents the difficult but sure path of life, and glory,
and immortal blessedness !
ENCOURAGEMENT FOR FAITHFUL PARENTS.
We may safely appeal to the experience of the Christian
father and mother, to declare the joy they experienced when
they have witnessed the blessing of God crowning their
labors and prayers with success — when they have found
Christ formed in the heart of their child — when the young-
immortal, owing its existence to them, has turned from an
unsatisfying world to the service of the living God, and
become a meek, self-denying, ardent follower of the Lamb.
Upon all others the trial is now urgently pressed ; they may
expect their encouragements and rewards to be the same,
if the work is undertaken in the same faith. And let every
parent remember, that in whatever other ways the voice of
God may speak, it should be heard with reverence, and
obeyed.
If you are unfaithful, even undesignedly, when you might
have known your duty, your offspring may be deprived, by
your means, of the choicest blessings of heaven. Receive
then instruction, and be wise : " There is joy in the presence
of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth." And
if the repentance of even an aged wanderer, who has nothing
to offer on his return but a worn-out self, can cause such
16 MISTAKES OF PARENTS.
joy in the world of light, who but a parent can tell the
rejoicings unspeakable that swell a parent's bosom, when
that sinner is a beloved child, a child now willing to devote
body and soul, free and vigorous, to the service of a Sav-
iour, where every name before had fallen as an unmeaning
sound upon the ear ?
Parents, your Sabbath- school teachers have labored with
you to secure these rejoicings, and to multiply the joys of
the heavenly host; how faithfully, how successfully, will
be known only in the great day of account. You are now
called upon to cooperate more cordially with them ; and
may you be quickened and invigorated by the same assur-
ance that animates them. They that turn many to right-
eousness shall shine as the stars for ever and ever.
WATCH AND PRAY.
My soul, be on thy guard,
Ten thousand foes arise.
And hosts of sins are pressing hard
To draw thee from the skies.
0 watch, and fight, and pray ;
The battle ne'er give o'er ;
Renew it boldly every day,
And help divine implore.
Ke'er think the victory won,
Nor once at ease sit down :
Thy arduous work will not be done
Till thou hast got thy crown. Heath.
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