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A8TOH.  LeWOK 

il  e    N   FOl'SiOATIOMd-.    f 


THE 


VOUNG    CHRISTIAN 


A  FAMILIAR  ILLUSTRATION 


OP    THE    PRINCIPLES    OF 


CHRZSTZAW    DVT? 


BY    JACOB    ABBOTT. 


STEBEOTYPE   EDITION. 


NEW-YORK: 

PUBLISHED  BY  JOHN  P.  HAVEN, 
No.  148  Nassau-street. 


.J834.y 

D.  Fanshaw,  Primer. 

^>    ■■ 
n. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1832,  by  Pierce 
&  Parker,  in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  Dictrict  Court  of  Masss 
chusetts. 


Z  Iff  TRO  duct:  OSS' 


I.    OBJECT  OF  THE  BOOK. 

This  book  is  intended  to  explain  and  illustrate,  in 
a  simple  manner,  the  principles  of  Christian  duty, 
and  is  intended,  not  for  children,  nor  exclusively  for 
the  young,  but  for  all  who  are  just  commencing  a 
religious  life,  and  who  feel  desirous  of  receiving  a 
familiar  explanation  of  the  first  principles  of  pietv. 
As  it  is  a  fact,  however,  that  such  persons  are  gene- 
rally among  the  young,  that  is,  from  fifteen  to  twenty- 
five  years  of  age,  the  work  has  been  adapted  in  its 
style,  and  in  the  character  of  its  illustrations,  to  their 
mental  habits. 

I  have,  however,  looked  more  toward  childhood 
than  toward  maturity  in  choosing  the  form  in  which 
I  have  presented  the  truth,  and  the  narrative  or  dia- 
logue by  which  I  have  illustrated  it.  A  young  man 
of  twenty-five  will  look  back  to  his  boyhood,  and  un- 
derstand an  illustration  drawn  from  one  of  its  scenes, 
far  more  easily  than  the  boy  can  look  forward  to  fu- 
ture life,  and  comprehend  and  appreciate  allusions 
to  the  pursuits  of  the  man.  I  trust  that  the  reader 
of  mature  mind,  into  whc«3e  hands  this  book  ma  ,' 
fall,  will  excuse  this  partiality  for  the  young. 


4  INTRODUCTION 

II.     STYLE  AND  LANGUAGE. 

I  have  made  no  effort  to  simplify  the  language. 
It  is  not  necessary  to  do  this  even  for  children.  They, 
will  understand  the  language  of  maturity  easily 
enough,  if  the  logic  and  rhetoric  are  theirs.  I  have 
attempted,  therefore,  to  present  each  subject  in  such 
an  aspect,  and  to  illustrate  it  in  such  a  way  as  is 
adapted  to  the  young  mind,  using,  however,  such 
language  as  has  suggested  itself  spontaneously.  It  is 
a  great  but  a  very  common  error,  to  suppose  that 
merely  to  simplify  diction  is  the  way  to  gain  access 
to  the  young.  Hence  a  sermon  for  children  is  seldom 
any  thing  mure  than  a  sermon  for  men,  with  easy 
words  substituted  for  the  hard  ones.  This  goes  on 
the  supposition  that  the  great  difficulty  is  to  make 
children  understand  religious  truth.  Whereas  there 
is  no  difficulty  at  all  in  this.  The  difficulty  is  in  in- 
teresting them  in  it.  They  will  understand  readily 
enough,  if  they  are  interested  in  the  form  and  man- 
ner in  which  the  subject  comes  before  them. 

These  principles  will  explain  the  great  number  of 
narratives,  and  dialogues,  and  statements  of  facts 
which  are  introduced  to  give  vividness  to  the  concep- 
tions of  my  readers.  Many  of  these  are  imaginary — 
cases  supposed  for  the  purpose  of  illustration.  Where 
this  is  the  case,  however,  it  is  distinctly  stated ;  and 
all  those  accounts  which  are  introduced  as  state- 
ments of  facts  are  strictly  true.  I  am  not  certain 
but  that  some  individuals  may  object  to  the  num- 
ber of  imaginary  incidents  which  I  have  thus  intro- 
duced.   If  the  principles  stated  above  are  not  consi- 


INTRODUCTION.  & 

dered  satisfactory,  I  must  appeal  to  authority.  This 
book  is  not  more  full  of  parables  than  were  the  dis- 
courses of  Jesus  Christ.  I  shelter  myself  under  his 
example. 

III.    REQUEST  TO  PARENTS. 

Every  parent  knows  there  is  great  danger  that 
children  will  run  over  the  pages  of  a  book  where 
narrative  and  dialogue  are  introduced  to  illustrate  re- 
ligious truth,  and  that  they  will,  with  peculiar  dex- 
terity, find  out  and  read  all  that  has  the  interest  of  a 
story,  and  skip  the  rest.  There  will,  perhaps,  in  this 
volume  be  less  danger  from  this,  from  the  fact  that 
the  whole  is  so  intimately  interwoven  as  to  render  it 
in  most  cases  difficult  to  separate.  A  mother  can, 
however,  effectually  prevent  it,  if  she  pleases.  If  her 
children  are  young,  and  she  fears  this  danger,  let 
her  read  the  book  to  them,  or  let  her  assign  a  dis- 
tinct and  a  limited  portion  for  each  Sabbath;  and 
after  it  is  read,  let  her  examine  them  in  it,  asking 
questions  in  regard  to  the  plan  and  design  of  the 
chapter — the  circumstances  of  each  narrative — and 
especially  the  purpose  for  which  it  is  introduced.  This 
however  must  be  done,  not  in  the  suspicious  man- 
ner of  hearing  a  lesson  which  you  fear  has  not  been 
learned,  but  with  the  winning  tone  of  kindness  and 
confidence. 

IV.    THEOLOGY  OF  THE  WORK. 

A.S  to  the  theology  of  the  work,  it  takes  every 
where  for  granted  that  salvation  is  to  be  obtained 


e  INTRODUCTIOi^. 

through  repentance  for  past  sin,  and  trust  for  for- 
giveness in  the  atonement  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  is 
not,  however,  a  work  on  theology.  It  is  designed  to 
enforce  the  practice,  not  to  discuss  the  theory  of  re- 
Hgion.  Its  object  is  to  explain  and  illustrate  Chris- 
tian duty  ;  but  it  exhibits  this  duty  as  based  on  those 
great  principles  in  which  all  denominations  of  evan- 
gelical Christians  concur. 

V.  OTHER  BOOKS  OF  THE  KIND. 
There  are  already  several  most  interesting  and 
useful  books  before  the  public,  whose  object  is  the 
same  with  this — to  give  Christian  instruction  to  the 
young.  This  work  appears  not  as  their  rival,  but  as 
their  companion.  Most  young  Christians  have,  in 
the  course  of  half  a  dozen  years,  time  to  read  a  great 
many  pages  ;  and  as  each  writer  discusses  different 
topics,  or  presents  them  in  new  aspects  and  relations, 
it  is  well  that  this  class  of  books  should  be  multi- 
phed.  If  twenty  different  individuals  in  various  parts 
of  our  countr}^  whom  Providence  has  placed  in  such 
circumstances  as  to  interest  them  particularly  in 
tlie  young,  would  write  for  them,  the  books  would 
uil  be  read  if  they  were  properly  written,  and  would 
all  do  good.  They  would  be  different,  if  they  were 
the  results  of  the  independent  reflection  and  obser- 
vation of  the  authors,  and  each  would  co-operate 
with  and  assist  the  others. 


COUTSn'TS. 


CHAPTER    I. CONFESSION. 

Introduction.  Nature  of  confession.  Case  supposed.  Story  of 
the  boy's  disobedience  on  the  ice.  Consequences.  Their  un- 
happiness.  Guilt  a  burden.  Means  of  relief.  The  boy's  con- 
fession. His  conversation  with  his  father.  Confession  of  little 
faults.  The  torn  letter.  The  anonymous  letter.  Reparation 
compared  with  confession.  Confession  of  great  crimes.  Pun- 
ishment. Story  of  boys  on  tlie  ice  continued.  To  parents  and 
teachers.  Confession  a  privilege.  Depression  of  spirits.  Its 
remedy.  Careless  confession.  Anecdote.  Punishment.  An 
experiment.  Story  of  the  dulled  tool.  Story  continued.  Con- 
fession to  God.  Anxiety  unnecessary.  Common  mistakes. 
Immediate  repentance.     Salvation  by  Christ,  13 


CHAPTER    II. THE    FRIEND. 

Story  of  an  Infant  School.  The  new  scholar.  The  protector  ap- 
pointed. Qualifications.  Power  and  sympathy.  Story  of  the 
sailor  boy.  The  captain's  want  of  sympathy.  The  little  ship. 
The  Savior.  His  thirty  years  of  life.  Howard.  Story  of 
Howard.  Imaginary  scene.  The  voluntary  prisoner.  The 
Savior.  The  child's  little  dltticulties.  Human  sympathy.  The 
murderer's  cell.  Sympathy  for  the  guilty.  The  keeper's  kind- 
ness to  the  prisoner.  The  Savior.  The  Savior's  sympathy. 
Common  distrust  of  it.  Illustration.  Case  of  the  sick  man. 
Jesus  Christ  a  physician.  Struggling  with  temptation.  The 
benevolent  teacher.  The  teacher  imagined  to  become  a  scho- 
lar. Howard.  Sympathy  of  Christ.  The  bruised  reed.  The 
metaphor  of  the  bruised  reed.  30 


CHAPTER  III. PRAYER. 

The  absent  son.  The  father's  promise.  Its  implied  limitations. 
Improper  requests.  Requests  in  an  improper  manner.  The 
letter.  Our  Savior's  promise.  Prayers  denied.  Power  of 
prayer.  Granting  requests  in  another  form.  The  boy  asking 
for  a  knife.  The  sick  man  unexpectedly  cured.  Submissive 
spirit.  Prayers  of  the  young.  The  packet.  Description  of 
the  pncket.     The  calm.     The  Christian  traveler.     Books  and 


8  CONTENTS. 

tracts.  The  long  passage.  The  approaching  sloim.  They 
watch  the  light.  The  storm  increases.  Going  about.  Split- 
ting of  the  topsail.  Danger.  Protection  never  certain.  Ob- 
ject of  prayer  in  danger.  Socrates.  His  peace  of  mind. 
True  composure  in  danger.  The  prayer  at  sea.  Effects. 
Sincerity  of  prayer.  Ardor  in  prayer.  All  can  pray  who 
wish  to. 
A  difficulty  about  selfishness.  Reply.  Invitation  to  the  weary. 
The  prodigal.  The  nobleman.  The  desk.  The  father's  re- 
fusal. Real  selfishness.  Prayer  of  faith.  The  morning  prayer 
meeting.  The  Young  Christian's  difficulty.  The  mother.  God 
diicides.  A  favorable  answer  to  prayer  never  certain.  Dan- 
ger of  perversion.  The  humble  teacher.  Conclusion.  Story 
of  the  ship  concluded.  The  storm  subsides.  They  arrive 
safely  at  Provincetown.  47 


CHAPTER  IV. CONSEQUENCES  OF  NEGLECTING  DUTY. 

Neglecting  duty.  Injury  which  this  book  will  do.  The  disobe- 
dient child.  The  message  disregarded.  The  Christian  mes- 
sage. 

Story  of  Louisa.  Her  character.  The  evening  meeting.  Lou- 
isa's interest  in  religion.  Conversation  with  her.  Increasing 
interest.  Unwilling  to  yield  to  God.  Her  sickness.  She  sends 
for  her  pastor.  Her  alarm.  Her  increasing  anxiety.  Death- 
bed repentance.  Increasing  sickness  and  mental  suffering. 
Danger.  Louisa's  despair.  Her  advice  to  her  young  friends. 
Last  visit.  Her  sufferings.  She  dies  at  midnight.  Her  feel- 
ings at  last.  75 


CHAPTER    V. ALMOST    A    CHRISTIAN. 

Almost  a  Christian.  Louisa's  case  a  common  one.  Neglecting 
duty  when  it  is  clearly  pointed  out.  Secret  causes  of  continu- 
ing in  sin.  First,  Procrastination.  The  student's  evening  walks. 
The  admission  to  college.  Resolutions  for  vacations  ;  for  se- 
nior years  ;  for  future  life.  Now  is  the  accepted  time.  Second, 
Love  of  the  world.  Sacrifices  necessary  in  becoming  a  Chris- 
tian.  Losing  a  friend;  an  enjoyment.  Third,  Fear  of  the 
world.  Difficulties  foretold  by  the  Savior.  Entire  surrender 
required.  Real  submission.  Changing  sides.  Address  to  a 
young  man. 


87 


CHAPTER    VI. DIFFICULTIES    IN    RELIGION. 

Story  of  the  Chinese  and  the  map.    Difficulties  in  all  subjects. 


CONTENTS.  9 

Astronomical  difficulties.  Difficulties  in  religion  to  be  expect- 
ed. First  difficulty.  Attempt  to  avoid  it.  Ccnveisation  con- 
tinued. Second  difficulty.  Extent  of  the  creation.  Difficul- 
ty. The  existence  of  suffering  inexplicable.  The  pirate  con- 
demned to  die.  Accountability.  Foreknowledge.  Story  of 
father  and  son.  Imaginary  conversation  with  an  infidel.  An- 
swering prayer.  Case  supposed.  The  sick  son.  Miraculous 
interference  in  answering  prayer.  Sources  of  difficulty.  Al- 
gebra. The  surd.  Difficulty  theoretical.  None  in  practice. 
Objects  of  this  chapter.  ].  Inquiries.  Disobedient  school-boy. 
2.  Perplexities  of  Christians.  Way  to  avoid  them.  Plausible 
reasoning  sometimes  unsafe.  Scholars  in  geometry.  Draw- 
ing inferences.  Story  of  the  knights  and  the  statue.  The 
.shield  of  brass  and  iron.  One  kind  of  controversy.  3.  Diffi- 
culties of  children.  Children's  questions.  4.  Difficulties  of 
parents  and  teachex's.  The  school-boy's  question.  A  humble, 
docile  spirit.  103 


CHAPTER    VII. EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 

The  doubting  clerk.  The  unexpected  letter.  The  sick  child. 
Possible  mistakes.  Men  act  from  reasonable  evidence.  Evi- 
dences of  Christianity,  Historical,  Internal,  and  Experimental. 
Illustration.     The  phosphorus. 

J.  Historical  Evidence.  Seal.  Miracles,  Examining  witnesses. 
The  court.  The  court-room.  The  prisoner.  His  accusation 
and  trial.  Testimony  of  the  owner;  of  the  watchman.  The 
lawyer's  question.  The  watchman's  story.  The  prisoner  con- 
victed. Points  secured  on  trials.  Three  points  to  be  attended 
to.  Irruption  of  the  barbari;ins.  Old  manuscripts.  Genuine- 
ness of  the  Scriptures.  Quotations.  Illustration.  Use  made 
of  quotations.  Paley's  Evidences.  Necessity  for  proving  the 
genuineness  of  the  Scriptures.  The  original  records  not  re- 
maining. The  second  point.  Opportunities  of  knowing.  The 
housebreaker's  trial.  Sacred  writers  could  not  have  been  mis- 
taken. They  were  eye-Vvitnesses,  Third  point.  Their  style 
of  writing.  Impartiality.  Elevated  views.  They  were  disin- 
terested. Our  Savior's  farewell  address.  Interested  witnesses. 
Battle  of  Lexington.  Parliament  and  Congress.  Points  prov- 
ed. Argument  from  prophecy.  Prophecies.  False  prophe- 
cies. Subject  difficult.  Were  the  Christian  witnesses  believ- 
ed ?     Contest  with  Paganism.     Power  of  truth. 

2.  Internal  Evidence.  Unity  of  the  Scriptures.  The  Bible  a 
number  of  books.  Its  single  object.  The  Bible  a  history  of 
Christ.  Sacrifices.  Meaning  of  sacrifices.  Their  moral  influ- 
ence. Conclusion  of  the  book.  Appropriate  language.  The 
advent  of  the  Savior.  Its  time  and  place.  The  Mediterranean 
Sea.  Interesting  associations.  Character  of  God.  Language 
of  nature;  of  the  Bible.  The  sufferer  in  the  hospital.  Jeho- 
vah just  as  well  as  merciful.     Butler's  Analogy. 

3.  Experimental  Evidence.  Case  of  sickness  supposed.  Medi- 
cine.    Proof  of  it.    The  mother.    The  mother  and  her  sick 

1* 


10  CONTENTS. 

son.  The  unbeliever.  Power  of  Christianity.  Particular 
cass.  Prisons.  Old  and  new  system  of  discipline.  Stories  of 
the  convicts.  The  disobedient  son.  Conversation.  Struggles 
with  sin.  Second  story.  Nature  of  ardent  spirit.  W.'s  crime. 
Learning  to  read  in  prison.  First  lesson.  Effect  of  the  Bible 
upon  W.  Sins  against  God.  W.'s  mental  sufferings.  His 
prayer.  His  way  of  finding  the  51st  Psalm.  His  relief.  Close 
of  the  convicts'  stories.  Charlestown  state  prison.  Old  build- 
ing. Crowded  night  rooms.  Arms.  Prison  yard.  Chapel. 
Prisoners  going  to  Sabbath  school.  Aspect  of  the  school. 
Prisoners'  dress.  Limited  circulation  of  the  Bible.  Fear  of 
death.  The  sick  young  man.  Sting  of  death.  The  dying 
mother.  Practical  directions.  Difficulties.  Disputes.  Do- 
ing duty.  131 


CHAPTER    VIH. STUDY    OF    THE    BIBLE. 

Way  to  study  the  Bible.  The  young  man's  experiment.  The 
family  circle.  Distribution  of  books.  Interest  of  the  children. 
Particular  directions.  Familiar  sounds.  The  motto  in  the 
school-room.  Description  from  the  Bible.  Vivid  concep- 
tions. Picturing  the  scene  to  the  mind.  Clear  conceptions 
West's  picture  of  Christ  rejected.  Effect  upon  the  assembly. 
Writing  questions.  God's  command  to  Abraham.  Questions 
upon  the  passage.  Questions  written  by  a  boy.  Many  faulty. 
Utility  of  writing  questions.  Many  questions  on  one  verse. 
Experiment  tried  by  a  mother.  A  Sabbath  school  teacher. 
Re-writing  Scripture.  The  boy's  evening  work.  Actual  case. 
Passage.  Difficulty  arising.  Explanation  of  it.  Story  of  Mi- 
cah.  a  specimen.  Two  specimens  on  the  same  subject.  Ques- 
tions. Collating  the  Scripture*.  Plan  tried  by  James  and 
John.  Effect  of  this  method.  Three  accounts  of  Paul's  con- 
version. Advantagesof  the  plan.  List  of  lessons.  Difficulties 
to  be  anticipated,  "studying  by  subjects.  The  Sabbath.  Je- 
rusalem. List  of  topics.  Too  little  intellectual  study  of  the 
Bible.  Object  of  the  historic  form.  Reading  practically.  Dai- 
ly reading  of  the  Bible.  Useless  reading.  The  apprentice. 
Reading  two  verses  aright.  221 


CHAPTER    IX. THE    SABBATH. 

History  of  the  Sabbath.  Change  from  Saturday  to  Sunday.  Be- 
ginning of  the  Sabbath.  Idle  controversies.  A  father's  com- 
mand to  his  boys.  The  question  about  the  clock  and  the  dial. 
Universal  principle.  Two  doves.  A  day  of  twenty-three  and 
a  half  hours.  A  day  at  the  pole.  A  day  lost.  No  sunset  for 
monib.s.  Sabbath  in  Greenland.  Change  to  first  day.  No 
change  in  the  command.  The  creation.  Principle  important. 
Non-essentials.     Liability  to  evasion.     Human  and  divine  laws. 


CONTENTS.  II 

Spirit  of  the  law.  James'  way  of  reading  the  Bible.  A  boy 
studying  his  lesson.  The  boat.  The  careful  mother.  Way  to 
interest  children.  Conversation  with  the  children.  Ingenuity 
and  effort  necessary.  The  heart  to  be  reached.  Variety. 
Remarks  of  a  clergyman.  Necessity  of  variety.  Religious 
books.  Way  of  spending  the  Sabbath.  Various  duties.  Sys- 
tem in  religious  exercises.  Waste  of  time  prevented.  Rest 
on  the  Sabbath.  Distinct  duties  to  be  performed.  Way  to 
make  self-examination  interesting  and  useful.  Minuteness  of 
self-examination.  Prayer.  Studying  the  Bible,  and  conversa- 
tion on  tJie  Sabbath.  Frivolous  conversation.  Public  worship. 
Responsibility  of  the  hearers.  The  farmer  and  his  boys.  Duty 
of  the  hearers  to  be  interested.  Sinister  motives  at  church. 
Way  to  detect  them.  Heartless  worship.  Way  in  which  it  is 
indicated.  Appearance  of  evil.  The  summer  evening.  A 
Walk.     Walking,  riding,  sailing  on  the  Sabbath.  257 


CHAPTER    X. TRIAL   AND    DISCIPLINE. 

1.  Nature  of  Trial.  The  steam-boat  on  trial.  Efforts  of  the  en- 
gineer. Improvements.  Final  results.  Her  power.  Safe 
and  successful  action.  Life  a  time  of  trial.  Trials  of  child- 
hood. The  child  and  the  forbidden  book.  Commands.  Fain. 
Advantage  of  trial  in  childhood.  Putting  playthings  out  of 
reach.  Conversation  with  a  mother.  Trials  not  to  be  shunned. 
Instruction  and  practice.  The  merchants'  plan  for  his  son.  A 
voyage  of  difficulty.     Its  effects. 

0.  The  xises  of  Trial.  Self-knowledge.  The  deceived  mother. 
True  submission  distinguished  from  false.  The  engineer  was 
watchful.  Trial  a  means  of  improvement.  The  boy  studying 
division.  The  moral  and  arithmetical  question.  Practical  di 
Tactions.  God's  providence  universal.  Losses  of  every  kind 
from  God.  The  careless  engineer.  Neglect  of  duty.  Con- 
cluding remarks.  295 


CHAPTER    XI. PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT. 

1.  Mord  Improvement.  GeJieral  improvement  a  Christian  duty. 
Moral  improvement.  Faults.  The  vain  boy.  Way  to  reform 
him.  Conversation  with  his  father.  Instances  of  vanity.  The 
boy's  list.  Effect  of  this  confession.  Secret  confession  to  be 
minute.  Secret  prayer  often  too  general.  Way  to  make 
prayer  interesting.  Formal  confession.  Excuses.  Way  to 
make  secret  prayer  interesting.  Private  prayer.  Examples  of 
minute  confession.  The  father's  letter.  Object  of  this  illustra- 
tion. Faults  to  be  corrected.  Young  and  old  persons.  Other 
means  of  correcting  faults.  Exposure  to  temptation.  Conver- 
sation between  the  boy  and  his  friend.  Great  and  small  temp- 
tations. 


12  CONTENTS. 

Growing  in  grace.  Unavailing  efforts.  The  mother.  The  man 
of  business.  The  dejected  Christian.  Direct  efforts.  Free- 
dom of  feeling  and  freedom  of  action.  Way  to  mold  the 
heart.  Metaphysical  controversy.  Story  of  the  Duke  of 
Gloucester.  Richard's  artful  plan.  The  council.  Violent 
measures.  Murder  of  the  boys.  Analysis  of  (he  story.  Rich- 
ard's wicked  character.  Sense  in  which  character  is  volunta- 
ry. Distinction  between  character  and  conduct.  Importance 
of  it.  Moral  obligation.  Ways  of  influencing  the  character. 
Effect  of  Christian  knowledge.  The  mother.  The  child.  Gra- 
titude. Christian  action.  Why  Howard  became  interested 
for  prisoners.  Paul.  Dependence  upon  the  Holy  Spirit.  An 
evil  heart.     Divine  influence  necessary. 

2.  Inldlectual  Improvement.  A  finished  education.  Object  of 
education.  1.  To  strengthen  the  powers.  Robinson  Crusoe's 
supposed  experiment  with  Friday.  Conic  Sections.  Difficult 
studies.  2.  Acquisition  of  knowledge.  3.  Skill.  Three  expe- 
riments with  Friday.  Teaching  him  to  count.  Study  of  Ma- 
thematics. Imperfect  education.  Neglect  of  important  duties. 
Intellectual  progress  of  a  young  mother.  1.  Reading.  Sys- 
tem. Variety.  Thorough  reading.  Short  works.  2.  Con- 
versation. Difficulty  of  cultivating  it.  Means  of  cultivating  it. 
Experiments  proposed.  Plans  and  experiments.  Digesting 
knowledge,  'i.  M'riting.  Private  Journals.  Form  and  man- 
ner. Ruiming  titles.  Family  Journal.  By  brothers  and  sis- 
ters. Its  advantages.  Subjects.  Notes  and  abstracts.  True 
design  of  taking  notes.  Form  of  books.  Plan.  Variety. 
Specimens.  Reynolds.  Humboldt.  Chronology.  Syna- 
gogues. History  of  the  Bible.  Sir  Humphrey  Davy.  Story 
oflhh  sea  Captain.  Hiring  children.  The  Savior's  thirst  on 
thecriss.  Deceiving  children.  Narratives.  Ellen,  or  boast 
notU.yself  of  to-morrow.  The  dying  bed.  The  patient's  in- 
lere-'t  in  religion.  Her  address  to  her  husband.  Her  affecting 
remrks  to  her  children.  Moral  aspects  of  what  is  seen  and 
heaid.     Power  of  the  pen.  316 


CHAPTER  XII. CONCLUSION. 

Responsibility  of  religious  teachers.     Injury  to  be  done  by  this 
book.    Imperfect  self-application.     A  useless  way  of  reading.     386 


YOUNG   CHRISTIAN 


CHAPTER   1. 

CONFESSION. 
Confess  your  faults  one  to  another." 


Introduction.  Nature  of  Confession.  Case  supposed. 

I  wish,  in  this  first  chapter,  to  point  out  to  my  reader 
something  in  the  nature  and  effects  of  confession  which 
every  one  has  perhaps,  at  some  time,  experienced,  but 
which  few  sufficiently  consider — I  mean  its  power  to 
bring  peace  and  happiness  to  the  heart.  But  to  make 
myself  clearly  understood,  I  must  suppose  a  case. 

Two  boys,  on  a  pleasant  winter  evening,  ask  their 
father  to  permit  them  to  go  out  upon  the  river  to  skate. 
The  father  hesitates,  because,  though  within  certain 
limits  he  knows  there  is  no  danger,  yet  he  is  aware  that 
above  a  certain  turn  of  the  stream  the  current  is  rapid 
and  the  ice  consequently  thin.  At  last,  however,  he 
says,  "You  may  go,  but  you  must  on  no  account  go 
above  the  bend." 

The  boys  accept  the  condition,  and  are  soon  among 
their  twenty  companions,  shooting  swiftly  over  the 
smooth  black  ice,  sometimes  gliding  in  graceful  curves 
before  the  bright  fire,  which  they  have  built  in  ihe  mid- 
dle of  the  stream,  and  sometimes  sailing  away  into  the 
dim  distance,  in  search  of  new  and  unexplored  regions. 

Presently  a  plan  is  formed  by  the  other  boys  for  going 
in  a  cheerful  company  far  up  the  stream  to  explore  its 
shores,  and  then  return  again  in  half  an  hour  to  their 


14  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    1 

Story  of  the  boys'  disobedience  on  the  ice.  Consequences. 

fire.  Our  two  boys  sigh  to  think  of  their  father's  pro- 
hibition to  them.  They  faintly  and  hesitatingly  hint 
that  the  ice  may  not  be  strong  enough,  but  their  caution 
has  no  effect  upon  their  comrades, — and  the  whole  set 
forth,  and  soon  are  flying  with  full  speed  toward  the 
limit  prescribed.  Our  boys  think  they  may  safely  ac- 
company them  till  they  reach  the  boundary  which  they 
are  forbidden  to  pass ; — but  while  they  do  so,  they 
become  animated  and  intoxicated  with  the  motion  and 
the  scene.  They  feel  a  little  foreboding  as  they  approach 
the  line,  but  as  it  is  not  definitely  marked,  they  do  not 
abruptly  stop.  Tliey  fall  a  little  in  the  rear,  and  see 
whirling  through  the  bend  of  the  river  the  whole  crowd 
of  their  companions — and,  after  a  moment's  hesitation, 
they  follow  on.  The  spot  once  past,  their  indecision 
vanishes  ; — they  press  forward  to  the  foremost  rank, — 
forget  their  father, — their  promise, — their  danger.  God 
protects  them  however.  They  spent  the  half  hour  in 
delight, — return  down  the  river  to  their  fire, — and  at  the 
close  of  the  evening  they  take  off  their  skates  and  step 
upon  the  firm  ground,  and  walk  to\vard  their  home. 

The  enjoyment  is  now  over,  and  the  punishment  is  to 
come.  What  punishment?  I  do  not  mean  that  their 
father  will  punish  them.  He  knows  nothing  of  it.  He 
trusts  his  boys,  and,  confiding  in  their  promise,  he  will 
not  ask  them  whether  they  have  kept  it.  They  have  re- 
turned safely,  and  the  forbidden  ice  over  which  they 
have  passed  never  can  speak  to  tell  of  their  disobe- 
dience. Nor  do  I  mean  the  punishment  which  God 
will  inflict  in  another  world  upon  undutiful  children.  I 
mean  another  quicker  punishment,  and  which  almost 
alway  scomes  after  transgression.  And  I  wish  ray  young 
readers  M'ould  think  of  this  more  than  they  do. 

I  mean  the  loss  of  peace  of  mind. 

As  the  boys  approach  their  fixther's  dwelling,  unless 
their  consciences  have  become  seared  by  oft  repeated 


Ch.    1.]  CONFESSION.  15 


Their  unhappiness.  Guilt  a  burden.  Means  of  Relief. 

transgressions,  their  hearts  are  filled  with  uneasiness  and 
foreboding  care.  They  walk  slow  and  silently.  As  they 
enter  the  house  they  shrink  from  their  father's  eye.  He 
looks  pleased  and  happy  at  their  safe  return.  But  they 
turn  away  from  him  as  soon  as  they  can,  and  prefer 
going  to  another  room,  or  in  some  other  way  avoiding 
his  presence.  Their  sister  perhaps,  in  the  gaiety  and 
kindness  of  her  heart,  tries  to  talk  with  them  about  their 
evening's  enjoyment, — but  they  wish  to  turn  the  con- 
versation. In  a  word,  their  peace  of  mind  is  gone^ — 
and  they  shrink  from  every  eye,  and  wish  to  go  as  soon 
as  possible  to  bed,  that  they  may  be  unseen  and  forgotten. 

If  they  have  been  taught  to  fear  God,  they  are  not 
happy  here.  They  dare  not — strange  inf^ituation, — re- 
peat their  evening  prayer ; — as  if  they  supposed  they 
could  escape  God's  notice  by  neglecting  to  call  upon 
him.     At  last  howerer  they  sink  to  sleep. 

The  next  mgrning  they  awake  with  the  customary 
cheerfulness  of  childhood — until,  as  they  look  forth  from 
their  window,  they  see  the  clear  ice-bound  stream, 
which  tempted  them  to  sin,  winding  its  way  among  the 
trees.  They  say  nothing,  but  each  feels  guilty  and  sad. 
They  meet  their  father  and  mother  with  clouded  hearts, 
and  every  object  at  all  connected  with  their  transgres- 
sion, awakens  the  remorse  which  destroys  their  happi- 
ness. They  carry  thus  about  Avith  them  a  weary  and  a 
heavy  burden. 

I  suppose  that  in  such  cases  most  boys  would  continue 
to  bear  this  burden  ;  until  at  last  they  should  become 
insensible  to  it,  i.  e.  until  conscience  is  seared.  But 
though  by  habit  in  sin  the  stings  of  remorse  may  be 
blunted,  yet  peace  never  would  return.  By  repeated 
transgression  a  great  many  times  we  all  come  at  last  to 
feel  a  general  and  settled  uneasiness  of  heart,  v/hich  is 
a  constant  burden.  Ask  such  an  individual  if  he  is 
unhappy.     He  tells  you  no.     He  means  however  that  he 


16  YOUNG   CHRISTIAN.  [Cll.    I 


The  Boy's  confession.  IJis  conversation  with  his  father. 

is  not  particularly  unhappy  just  at  that  time.  His  bur 
den  is  so  uniform  and  constant  that  he  comes  to 
consider  it  at  last  as  a  necessary  part  of  his  existence. 
He  has  lost  all  recollection  of  what  pure  peace  and 
happiness  is.  A  man  who  has  lived  long  by  a  waterfall, 
at  last  becomes  so  habituated  to  the  noise,  that  silence 
seems  a  strange  luxury  to  him.  So  multitudes,  who 
have  had  an  unquiet  conscience  for  many  years,  without 
a  single  interval  of  repose,  when  they  at  last  come  and 
confess  their  sins,  and  find  peace  and  happiness,  are  sur- 
prised and  delighted  with  the  new  and  strange  sensation. 

This  peace  cannot  come  by  habit  in  sin.  A  seared 
conscience  is  not  a  relieved  one.  But  what  is  the  way 
by  which  peace  of  mind  is  to  be  restored  in  such  a  case 
as  the  above?  It  is  a  very  simple  way.  I  wish  it  was 
more  generally  understood  and  practised. 

Suppose  one  of  these  boys  sliould  say  to  himself, 
some  day  as  he  is  walking  alone,  *'  I  am  not  happy,  and 
I  have  not  been  happy  since  I  disobeyed  my  father  on 
the  ice.  I  was  very  foolish  to  do  that,  for  I  have  suf- 
fered more  in  consequence  than  ten  times  as  much 
pleasure  would  be  worth.  I  am  resolved  to  go  and 
confess  the  whole  to  my  father,  and  ask  him  to  forgive 
me,  and  then  I  shall  be  happy  again." 

Having  resolved  upon  this,  he  seeks  the  very  first 
opportunity  to  relieve  his  mind.  He  is  walking,  we  will 
imagine,  by  the  side  of  his  father,  and  for  several  minutes 
he  hesitates — not  knowing  how  to  begin.  He  makes 
however  at  last  the  effort,  and  says  in  a  sorrowful  tone, 

"  Father,  I  have  done  something  very  wrong." 

*'  What  is  it,  my  son  ?" 

He  hesitates  and  trembles, — and  after  a  moment's 
pause,  says,  "  I  am  very  sorry  that  I  did  it." 

"•My  son,"  says  the  father,  "I  have  observed,  for  a 
day  or  two,  that  you  have  not  been  happy,  and  you  are 
evidently  unhappy  now.     I  know  that  you  must  have 


Ch.    1.]  CONFESSION.  17 


Confession  of  little  faults.  Happiness. 

done  something  wrong.  But  you  may  do  just  as  you 
please  about  telling  me  what  it  is.  If  you  freely  confess 
it,  and  submit  to  the  punishment,  vvhatevcr  it  may  be, 
you  will  be  happy  again  ;  if  not,  you  will  continue  to 
suffer.     Now  you  may  do  just  as  you  please." 

"  Well,  father,  I  will  tell  you  all.  Do  you  remember 
that  you  gave  us  leave  to  go  upon  the  river  and  skate 
the  other  evening  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  I  disobeyed  you,  and  went  upon  the  ice, 
where  you  told  us  not  to  go.  I  have  been  unhappy 
ever  since,  and  I  resolved  to-day  that  I  would  come  and 
tell  you,  and  ask  you  to  forgive  me." 

I  need  not  detail  the  conversation  that  would  follow 
But  there  is  not  a  child  among  the  hundreds  and  perhaps 
thousands  who  will  read  this  chapter,  who  docs  not 
fully  understand,  that  by  such  a  confession  the  boy 
will  relieve  himself  of  his  burden,  restore  peace  to  his 
mind,  and  go  away  from  his  father  with  a  light  and 
happy  heart.  He  will  no  more  dread  to  meet  him,  and 
to  hear  the  sound  of  his  voice.  He  can  now  be  happy 
with  his  sister  again,  and  look  upon  the  beautiful  stream 
winding  in  the  valley,  without  feeling  his  heart  sink 
within  him  under  a  sense  of  guilt, — while  all  the  time, 
perhaps,  his  brother,  who  would  not  come  and  acknow- 
ledge his  sin,  has  his  heart  still  darkened,  and  his  coun- 
tenance made  sad  by  the  gloomy  recollection  of  unfor- 
given  sin.  Yes,  confession  of  sin  has  an  almost  magic 
power  in  restoring  peace  of  mind. 

Providence  seems  to  have  implanted  this  principle  in 
the  human  heart,  for  the  express  purpose  of  having  us 
act  upon  it.  He  has  so  formed  us,  that  when  we  have 
done  wrong  we  cannot  feel  at  peace  again  until  we 
have  acknowledged  our  wrong  to  the  person  against 
whom  it  was  done.  And  this  acknowledgment  of  it 
removes  the   uneasiness  as  effectually  as  fire   removes 


-%' 


18  YOUNG    CHRIStlAN.  fCh.    1. 

The  torn  letter.  Peace  of  mind. 

cold,  or  as  water  extinguishes  fire.  It  operates  in  all 
cases,  small  as  well  as  great,  and  is  infallible  in  its 
power.  And  yet  how  slowly  do  young  persons  and 
even  old  persons  learn  to  use  it.  The  remedies  for 
almost  every  external  evil  are  soon  discovered,  and  are 
at  once  applied  ;  but  the  remedy  for  that  uneasiness  of 
inind  which  results  from  having  neglected  some  duty  or 
committed  some  sin,  and  which  consists  in  simple  con- 
fession of  it  to  the  person  injured, — hov/  slowly  is  it 
learned,  and  how  reluctantly  practised. 

I  once  knew  a  boy  who  was  intrusted  with  a  letter  to 
be  carried  to  a  distant  place.  On  his  way,  or  just  after 
his  arrival,  in  attempting  to  take  the  letter  out  of  his 
pocket  suddenly,  he  tore  it  completely  in  two.  He  was 
in  consternation.  What  to  do  he  did  not  know.  He 
(lid  not  dare  to  carry  the  letter  in  its  mangled  condition, 
and  he  did  not  dare  to  destroy  it.  He  did  accordingly 
tlie  most  foolish  thing  he  could  do  ; — he  kept  it  for 
many  days,  doubting  and  waiting,  and  feeling  anxious 
and  unhappy,  whenever  it  came  in  his  sight.  At  last  he 
thought  that  this  was  folly,  and  he  took  his  letter,  car- 
ried it  to  tlic  person  to  whom  it  was  addressed,  saying, 

"  Here  is  a  letter  which  I  was  intrusted  with  for  you, 
and  in  taking  it  out  of  my  pocket,  I  very  carelessly  tore 
it  in  two.     I  am  sorry  for  it,  but  I  have  no  excuse." 

The  receiver  of  the  letter  said  it  was  no  matter,  and 
the  boy  went  home  suddenly,  and  entirely  relieved. 

My  reader  will  say,  "  Why,  this  was  a  very  simple 
way  of  getting  over  the  difficulty.  Why  did  not  he 
think  of  it  before  ?" 

I  know  it  was  a  simple  way.  The  whole  story  is  so 
simple,  that  it  is  hardly  dignified  enough  to  introduce 
here  ;  but  it  is  true^  and  it  exactly  illustrates  the  idea  I 
am  endeavoring  to  enforce,  viz.,  that  in  little  things,  as 
well  as  in  great  things,  the  confession  of  sin  restores 
peace  of  mind. 


Ch.    1.]  CONFESSIOIV  19 


The  anonymous  letter.      Reparation  compared  with  confession. 

I  will  now  mention  one  other  case  which  illustrates 
the  same  general  truth,  but  which  is  in  one  respect  very- 
different  from  all  the  preceding. 

A  merchant  was  one  morning  sitting  in  his  counting 
room,  preparing  for  the  business  of  the  day,  when  his 
boy  entered  with  several  letters  from  the  Post  Office, 
Among  them  was  one  in  a  strange  hand-writing  and  with 
the  words,  '^  Money  inclosed,^*  written  upon  the  outside. 
As  the  merchant  was  not  at  that  time  expecting  any  mo- 
ney, his  attention  was  first  attracted  to  this  letter.  He 
opened  it  and  read  soir/ewhat  as  follows  : 

,  January  4,  1831. 

"  Sir, 

"  Some  time  ago  I  defrauded  you  of  some  money. 
You  did  not  know  it  then,  and  I  suppose  you  never  would 
have  known  it,  unless  I  had  informed  you.  But  I  have 
had  no  peace  of  mind  since  it  was  done,  and  send  you 
back  the  money  in  this  letter.  Hoping  that  God  will 
forgive  this  and  all  my  other  sins, 
"  I  am,  yours, 


I  remarked  that  this  case  was  totally  different  from  all 
the  others  in  one  respect.  Reader,  do  you  notice  the 
difference?  It  consists  in  this,  viz.  that  here  not  only 
was  the  sin  confessed,  but  reparation  was  made.  The 
man  not  only  acknowledged  the  fraud,  but  he  paid  hack 
the  money.  And  if  any  of  my  readers  are  but  little 
acquainted  with  human  nature,  they  may  perhaps  ima- 
gine that  it  was  the  reparation^  and  not  the  confession^ 
which  restored  peace  of  mind.  But  I  think  I  can  show 
very  clearly,  that  making  reparation  is  not  effectual. 
Suppose  this  man,  instead  of  writing  tlie  above  letter, 
had  just  come  into  the  store  and  asked  to  buy  some 
article  or  other,  and  in  paying  for  it,  had  managed  dex- 
terously to  put  into  the  hands  of  the  clerk  a  larger  sum 


20  YOUNG     CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   1. 

Confession  of  great  crimes.  Effects  of  confession. 

than  was  due,  so  as  to  repay,  without  the  merchant's 
knowledge,  the  whole  amount  of  which  he  had  defrauded 
him.  Do  you  think  this  would  have  restored  his  peace 
of  mind?  No,  not  even  if  lie  had  thus  secretly  paid 
back  double  what  he  had  unjustly  taken.  It  was  the 
confession  ;  the  acknowledgment  of  having  done  wrong, 
which  really  quieted  his  troubled  conscience,  and  gave 
him  peace. 

It  is  not  probable  that  this  confession  was  sufficient 
to  make  him  perfectly  happy  again, — because  it  was 
incomplete.  The  reparation  was  perfect,  but  the  ac- 
knowledgment was  not.  The  reader  will  observe  that 
the  letter  has  no  name  signed  to  it,  and  the  merchant 
could  not  by  any  means  discover  who  was  the  writer  of 
it.  Now  if  the  man  had  honestly  told  the  whole — if  he 
had  written  his  name  and  place  of  residence,  and  de- 
scribed fully  all  tlic  circumstances  of  the  original  fraud, 
he  would  have  been  much  more  fully  relieved.  All 
confession  which  is  intended  to  bring  back  peace  of 
mind  when  it  is  gone,  should  be  open  and  thorough. 
There  are,  indeed,  many  cases  where,  from  peculiai 
circumstances,  it  is  not  the  duty  of  the  individual  to  give 
his  name.  This,  however,  does  not  affect  the  general 
principle,  that  the  more  full  and  free  the  confession  is, 
the  more  perfect  will  be  the  restoration  of  peace. 

So  strongly  is  this  principle  fixed  by  the  Creator  in 
the  human  heart,  that  men  who  have  committed  crimes 
to  which  the  laws  of  the  land  annex  the  most  severe 
public  punishments,  after  enduring  some  time  in  secrecy 
the  remorse  v/hich  crime  almost  always  brings,  have  at 
last  openly  come  forward,  and  surrendered  themselves 
to  the  magistrate, — and  acknowledged  their  guilt, — and 
have  felt  their  hearts  relieved  and  lightened  by  receiving 
an  ignominious  public  punishment,  in  exchange  for  the 
inward  tortures  of  remorse.  Even  a  murderer  has  been 
known  to  come  forward   to  relieve  the  horrors  of  his 


Ch.    1.]  CONFESSION.  21 

Punishment.  Story  of  the  boys  on  the  ice  continiicd- 

soul,  by  confession, — though  he  knew  that  this  confes- 
sion would  chain  him  in  a  dark  stone  cell,  and  after  a 
short,  but  gloomy  interval,  extend  him  in  a  coffin. 

My  reader,  you  can  try  the  power  of  confession,  and 
enjoy  the  relief  and  happiness  it  will  bring,  without 
paying  such  a  fearful  price  as  this  ; — but  these  cases  lead 
me  to  remark  upon  one  other  subject  connected  with 
confession — I  mean  punishment.  Sometimes,  as  I  be- 
fore remarked,  when  a  person  confdt^es  some  wrong,  he 
brings  himself  under  the  necessity  of  repairing'  the  in- 
jury done,  and  at  other  times  of  submitting  to  punisli- 
ment.  Parents  often  forgive  their  children  when  they 
have  done  wrong,  if  they  will  only  confess  it ;  and 
though  this  ought  sometimes  to  be  done,  there  is  yet 
great  danger  that  children,  in  such  cases,  will  soon 
acquire  a  habit  of  doing  wrong,  and  then  coming  to 
confess  it  with  a  careless  air,  as  if  it  was  not  of  much 
consequence,  or  rather  as  if  confessing  the  sin  destroyed 
it,  and  left  them  perfectly  innocent. 

I  should  think,  on  this  account,  that  the  father  whose 
sons  had  disobeyed  him  on  the  ice,  would  be  much  at  a 
loss  to  know  what  to  do,  after  one  of  his  boys  had  so 
frankly  acknowledged  it.  I  can  suppose  him  saying  to 
his  son,  "  Well,  my  son,  I  am  glad  you  have  told  me 
freely  all  about  this.  You  did  very  wrong,  and  I  am 
very  much  at  a  loss  to  know  what  I  ought  to  do.  I  will 
consider  it,  and  speak  to  you  by  and  by  about  it.  In 
the  mean  time  you  may  be  assured  that  I  forgive  you 
from  my  heart,  and  if  I  should  conclude  to  do  any  thing 
farther,  it  will  not  be  because  I  am  now  displeaied,  but 
because  I  wish  to  save  you  effectually  from  the  sad 
consequence  of  doing  wrong  in  future." 

When  the  father  is  left  to  muse  by  himself  upon  the 
subject,  we  may  imagine  him  to  be  thinking  as  follows. 

"  Well,  I  should  not  have  thought  that  my  boys  would 
have  broken  their  promise  and  disobeyed  me.     I  wonder 


22  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  Cll.  1. 

To  parents  and  teachers.  Confession  a  privilege. 

if  my  eldest  disobeyed  also.  The  youngest  only  spoke 
of  himself — shall  I  ask  him  ? — No.  Each  shall  stand  on 
independent  ground.  If  the  other  sinned  too,  he  too 
may  come  voluntarily  and  obtain  peace  by  confession, 
or  he  must  continue  to  bear  the  tortures  of  self-reproach. 
And  now  if  I  take  no  further  notice  of  the  transgression, 
which  is  already  acknowledged,  I  am  afraid  that  my  son 
will  the  next  time  yield  more  easily  to  temptation,  think- 
ing that  he  has  only  to  acknowledge  it,  to  be  forgiven. 
Shall  I  forbid  their  skating  any  more  this  winter  ? — or 
for  a  month  ? — or  shall  I  require  them,  every  time  they 
return,  to  give  me  an  exact  account  where  they  have 
been  ? — I  wish  I  could  forgive  and  forget  it  entirely,  but 
I  am  afraid  I  ought  not." 

Thus  he  would  be  perplexed  ;  and  if  he  was  a  wise 
parent,  and  under  the  influence  o{  moral  principle,  and 
not  of  mere  parental  feeling,  he  would  probably  do 
something  more  than  merely  pass  it  by.  The  boy  would 
find  that  confession  to  such  a  father  is  not  merely 
nominal, — that  it  brings  with  it  inconvenience,  or  depri- 
vation of  enjoyment,  or  perhaps  positive  punishment. 
Still  he  would  rejoice  in  the  opportunity  to  acknowledge 
his  sins  ;  for  the  loss  of  a  little  pleasure,  or  the  suffering 
of  punishment,  he  would  feel  to  be  a  very  small  price  to 
pay  for  returning  peace  of  mind,  and  he  would  fly  to 
confession,  as  a  refuge  from  self-reproach,  whenever  he 
had  done  wrong. 

Let  the  parents  or  the  teachers  who  may  read  this, 
take  this  view  of  the  nature  of  confession,  and  practice 
upon  it  in  their  intercourse  with  their  children  and  their 
pupils.  Let  them  meet  them  kindly  when  they  come 
forward  to  acknowledge  their  faults.  Sympathize  with 
them  in  the  struggle,  which  you  know  they  must  make 
at  such  a  time,  and  consider  how  strong  the  temptation 
was  which  led  them  to  sin.  And  in  every  thing  of  the 
nature  of  punishment  which  you  inflict,  be  sure  the  pre- 


Ch.    l.J  CONFESSION.  23 

Depression  of  spirits.  Us  remedy. 

ventlon  of  future  guilt  is  your  sole  motive,  and  not  the 
gratification  of  your  own  present  feeling  of  displeasure. 
If  this  is  done,  those  under  your  care  will  soon  value 
confession  as  a  privilege,  and  will  often  seek  in  it  a 
refuge  from  inward  suffering. 

Yes,  an  opportunity  to  acknowledge  wrong  of  any 
kind,  is  a  great  privilege,  and  if  any  of  my  readers  are 
satisfied  tliat  what  I  have  been  advancing  on  this  subject 
is  true,  I  hope  they  will  prove  by  experiment  the  cor- 
rectness of  these  principles.  Almost  every  person  has 
at  all  times  some  little  sources  of  uneasiness  upon  his 
mind.  They  are  not  very  well  defined  in  their  nature 
and  cause,  but  still  they  exist,  and  they  very  much  dis- 
turb the  happiness.  Now  if  you  look  within  long 
enough  to  seize  hold  of  and  examine  these  feelings  of 
secret  uneasiness,  you  will  find  that,  in  almost  every 
case,  they  are  connected  with  something  wrong  wJiich 
you  have  done.  That  anxious  brow  of  yours  then  is 
clouded  with  remorse  ; — wc  call  it  by  soft  names,  as 
care,  solicitude^  perplexity, — but  it  is  generally  a  slight 
remorse, — so  weak  as  not  to  force  its  true  character 
upon  your  notice,  but  yet  strong  enough  to  destroy  peace 
of  mind.  A  great  deal  of  what  is  called  depression  of 
spirits  arises  from  this  source.  There  are  duties  which 
you  do  not  faithfully  discharge  :  or  inclinations  which 
you  habitually  indulge  when  you  know  they  ought  to 
be  denied.  Conscience  keeps  up,  therefore,  a  continual 
murmur,  but  she  murmurs  so  gently  that  you  do  not 
recognise  her  voice — and  yet  it  destroys  your  rest.  You 
feel  restless  and  unhappy,  and  wonder  what  can  be  the 
cause. 

Let  no  one  now  say  or  even  suppose  that  I  think  that  all 
the  depression  of  spirits  which  exists  in  human  hearts  is 
nothing  but  a  secret  sense  of  guilt.  I  know  that  there 
is  real  solicitude  about  the  future,  unconnected  with  re- 
morse for  the  past ; — and  there  is  often  a  sinking  of  the 


24  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    J. 

Careless  confession.  Anecdote. 

spirits  in  disease,  which  moral  remedies  will  not  touch. 
These  cases  are,  however,  comparatively  few.  A  far 
greater  proportion  of  the  restlessness  and  of  the  corrod- 
ing cares  of  human  hearts  is  produced,  or  at  least  very- 
much  aggravated  by  being  connected  with  guilt. 

I  suppose  some  of  my  readers  ar«  going  over  these 
pages  only  for  amusement.  They  will  be  interested, 
perhaps,  in  the  illustrations,  and  if  of  mature  or  cultiva- 
ted minds,  in  the  point  to  which  I  am  endeavoring  to 
make  them.  tend.  I  hope,  however,  tliat  there  are  some 
who  are  reading  really  and  honestly  for  the  sake  o£ 
moral  improvement.  To  those  I  would  say:  Do  you 
never  feel  unquiet  in  spirit,  restless  or  sad?  Do  you 
never  experience  a  secret  uneasiness  of  heart,  of  which 
you  do  not  know  the  exact  cause,  but  which  destroys,  or 
at  least  disturbs  your  peace?  If  you  do,  take  this 
course.  Instead  of  flying  from  those  feelings  when  they 
come  into  your  heart,  advance  boldly  to  meet  them. 
Grasp  and  examine  them.     Find  their  cause.     You   will 

iind  in  nine  cases  out  of  ton    that  their  cauco  i«  something' 

wrong  in  your  own  conduct  or  character.  Young  per- 
sons will  generally  find  something  wrong  towards  their 
parents.  Now  go  and  confess  these  faults.  Do  not  en- 
deavor to  palliate  or  excuse  them,  but  endeavor  on  the 
other  hand  to  see  their  worst  side,  and  if  you  confess 
them  freely  and  fully,  and  resolve  to  sin  no  more,  peace 
will  return,  at  least,  so  far  as  these  causes  have  banished 
it  from  your  lieart. 

After  I  iiad  written  thus  far,  I  read  these  pages  to  a  gen- 
tleman who  visited  me,  and  he  remarked  that  before  I 
closed  the  chapter,  I  ought  to  caution  my  readers  against 
acquiring  the  habit  of  doing  wrong  and  then  coming 
carelessly  to  confess  it,  without  any  real  sorrow,  as 
though  the  acknowledgment  atoned  for  the  sin  and 
wiped  all  the  guilt  away. 

*  I  was  once,'  said  he,  '  visiting  in  a  family,  and  while 


Ch.  1.]  CONFESSION.  25 

Heartless  confession.  An  experiment. 

we  were  sitting  at  the  fire,  a  little  boy  came  in  and  did 
some  wanton,  wilful  mischief. 

"  Why,  my  child,"  said  the  mother,  "  see  what  you 
have  done.  That  was  very  wrong ; — but  you  are  sorry 
for  it,  I  suppose.     Are  you  not?" 

"  Yes,  Ma,"  said  the  boy  carelessly,  running  away  at 
the  same  time  to  play. 

*•  Yes,"  said  the  mother,  "he  is  sorry.  He  does  wrong 
sometimes,  but  then  he  is  always  sorry  for  it  and  acknow- 
ledges it.     You  are  sorry  now,  are  you  not,   my  son?" 

"  Yes,  Ma"  said  the  boy,  as  he  ran  capering  about  the 
room,  striking  the  furniture  and  his  little  sister  with  his 
whip.  >. 

My  friend  thought  there  was  some  danger  that  this 
sort  of  confession  might  be  made.  And  it  is  undoubted- 
ly often  made.  But  it  does  no  good.  Confession  must 
come  from  the  heart,  or  it  will  not  relieve  or  improve 
the  heart. 

This  anecdote  shows  the  necessity  of  some  punishment 
in  all  governments.  If  a  father  forgives  the  disobedience 
of  his  children  simply  upon  their  confessing  it — I  mean 
if  he  makes  this  his  settled  and  regular  course — his  chil- 
dren will  often  disobey,  expecting  to  make  peace  by  con- 
fession as  a  matter  of  course  ;  and  the  confession  will  thus 
not  only  become  an  useless  form,  but  will  become  the 
very  lure  which  tempts  them  to  sin. 

A  teacher  once  made  a  rule,  that  if  any  irregularity  oc- 
curred in  any  of  the  classes,  the  assistant  who  heard  the 
classes  was  to  send  the  person  in  fault  to  him.  At  first 
the  pupils  felt  this  very  much.  One  and  another  would 
come  with  tears  in  their  eyes  to  acknowledge  some  fault, 
although  it  was  perhaps  only  a  very  slight  one.  The 
teacher  inflicted  no  punishment,  but  asked  them  to  be 
careful  in  future,  and  sent  them  away  kindly.  Soon, 
however,  they  began  to  feel  less  penitent  when  they  had 
done  wrong.     They  came  more  and  more  as  a  matter  of 

2 


26  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Cll.    I. 

Sincere  confession.  Story  of  tiie  dulled  tool. 

form,  until  at  last  thiey  Avould  come  and  state  their  fault 
as  carelessly  as  if  they  were  merely  giving  their  teacher 
a  piece  of  indifferent  information.  No  ; — confession  must 
never  be  understood  as  making  any  atonement  for  sin. 
Whenever  you  acknowledge  that  you  have  done  wrong 
do  it  with  sincere  penitence, — and  with  a  spirit  which 
would  lead  you  to  make  all  the  reparation  in  your  power, 
if  it  is  a  case  which  admits  of  reparation, — to  submit  to 
the  just  punishment,  if  any  is  inflicted, — and  always  to 
resolve  most  firmly  that  you  will  sin  no  more. 

Let  all  my  readers,  then,  whether  old  or  young,  look 
at  once  around  them,  and  seek  diligently  for  everything 
wrong  which  they  have  done  toward  their  fellows,  and 
try  the  experiment  of  acknowledging  the  wrong  in  every 
case,  that  they  may  see  how  much  such  a  course  will 
bring  peace  and  happiness  to  their  hearts.  When,  how- 
ever, I  say  that  every  thing  wrong  ought  to  be  acknow- 
ledged, I  do  not  mean  that  it  is,  in  every  case,  necessary 
to  make  a  formal  confession  in  language.  Acknow- 
ledgments may  be  made  by  actions,  as  distinctly  and  as 
cordially  as  by  words.  An  example  will  best  illustrate 
this. 

A  journeyman  in  a  carpenter's  shop  borrowed  a  plane 
of  his  comrade,  and  in  giving  it  back  to  him,  it  was  ac- 
cidentally dropped  and  dulled.  The  lender  maintained 
that  the  borrower  ought  to  sharpen  it,  while  the  borrower 
said  that  it  was  not  his  fault,  and  an  angry  controversy 
arose  between  them.  It  would  have  taken  but  a  few 
minutes  to  have  sharpened  the  instrument,  but  after  hav- 
ing once  contended  about  it,  each  was  determined  not  to 
yield.  The  plane  was  laid  down  in  its  damaged  state, 
each  declaring  that  he  would  not  sharpen  it. 

The  borrower  however  did  not  feel  easy,  and  as  he 
lay  down  that  night  to  rest,  the  thought  of  his  foolish 
contention  made  him  unhappy.  He  reflected  too,  that 
since  his  friend  had  been  willing  to  lend  him  his  instru- 


Ch.  1.]  CONFESSION.  27 

Story  continued.  Confession  to  God. 

ment,  he  ought  to  have  borne,  himself,  all  the  risk  of  its 
return.  He  regretted  that  he  had  refused  to  do  what 
now,  on  cool  reflection,  he  saw  was  clearly  his  duty. 

On  the  following  morning,  therefore,  he  went  half  an 
hour  earlier  than  usual  to  the  shop,  and  while  alone  there, 
with  the  help  of  grindstone  and  hone,  he  put  the  unfor- 
tunate plane  in  the  best  possible  order, — laid  it  in  its 
proper  place — and  when  his  companion  came  in,  he  said 
to  him  pleasantly, 

"  I  wish  you  would  try  your  plane,  and  see  how  it  cuts 
this  morning." 

Now  was  not  this  a  most  full  and  complete  acknow- 
ledgment of  having  been  wrong  ?  And  yet  there  is  not  a 
syllable  of  confession  in  language.  Any  way  by  which 
you  can  openly  manifest  your  conviction  that  you  have 
done  wrong,  and  your  determination  to  do  so  no  more, 
is  sufficient.  The  mode  best  for  the  purpose  will  vary 
with  circumstances. — Sometimes  bywords,  sometimes  by 
writing,  and  sometimes  by  action.  The  only  thing  that 
is  essential  is,  that  the  heart  should  feel  what  in  these 
various  ways  it  attempts  to  express. 

I  doubt  not  now,  but  that  many  of  my  readers,  who 
have  taken  up  this  book  with  a  desire  to  find  religious  in- 
struction in  it,  have  been  for  some  time  wishing  to  have 
me  come  to  the  subject  of  the  confession  of  sin  to  God. 
You  feel  that  the  greatest  of  all  your  transgressions  have 
been  against  him  ;  and  that  you  can  have  no  true  peace 
of  mind  until  he  has  forgiven  you.  I  have  no  doubt 
that  this  is  the  state  of  mind  of  very  many  of  those  who 
will  read  this  chapter.  But  confession  of  sin  is  the  same 
in  its  nature  and  tendency  when  made  to  God  as  when 
made  to  your  fellow  man.  When  you  have  finished  this 
chapter  then,  shut  the  book,  and  go  alone  before  your 
Maker,  and  acknowledge  all  your  sins.  Acknowledge 
them  frankly  and  fully,  and  try  to  see  and  feel  the  worst, 
not  by  merely  calling  your  offences  by  harsh  names,  but 


28  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    1 

Anxiety  unnecessary.  Common  mistakes, 

by  calmly  looking  at  the  aggravating  circumstances!. 
While  5^ou  do  this,  do  not  spend  your  strength  in  trying 
to  feel  strong  emotion.  You  cannot  feel  emotion  by 
merely  trying  to  feel  it.  There  is  no  necessity  of  pro- 
longed terror,— no  need  of  agony  of  body  or  of  mind, — 
no  need  of  gloom  of  countenance.  Just  go  and  sincerely 
acknowledge  your  sins  to  God,  and  ask  him  to  forgive 
you  through  Jesus  Christ,  and  he  will. 

But  perhaps  some  of  you  will  say,  "  I  am  surprised  to 
hear  you  say  that  there  is  no  need  of  strong  agitation  of 
mind,  before  we  can  be  forgiven  for  sin.  I  am  sure  that 
there  often  is  very  strong  feeling  of  this  kind.  There  is 
terror  and  agony  of  mind,  and  afterward  the  individual 
becomes  a  sincere  Christian.'* 

It  is  true,  there  is  sometimes  strong  and  continued 
agitation,  but  it  is  only  because  those  who  suffer  it  are 
unwilling  to  yield  to  God  and  confess  their  sins  to  him. 
As  soon  as  this  unwillingness  is  gone,  and  they  come  to 
their  God  and  Savior  with  all  their  hearts,  the  mental 
suffering  vanishes.  I  said  that  if  you  were  willing  now 
to  confess  your  sins  to  God  with  sincere  penitence,  you 
may  at  once  be  happy.  Of  course,  if  you  are  unwilhng, — 
if  you  see  that  you  are  sinning  against  him,  and  will  not 
come  and  make  peace,  you  then  have  indeed  cause  to 
tremble. 

There  is  a  great  mistake  prevalent  on  this  subject,  es- 
pecially among  the  young,  though  the  subject  is  often 
clearly  enough  explained,  both  from  the  press  and  the 
pulpit.  God's  command  is,  repent  at  once,  and  believe 
on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  you  shall  have  peace.  I 
have,  in  this  chapter,  used  the  word  confess,  instead  of 
repent,  for  sincere  confession  is  only  a  manifestation  of 
penitence.  Now  I  do  not  find  that  the  Bible  requires 
any  thing  previous  to  repentance.  It  does  not  say  that 
we  mr'st  be  miserable  a  week  or  a  day  or  an  hour.  I 
never  heard  any  minister  urge  upon  his  hearers  the  duty 


Ch.  1.]  CONFESSION.  29 

Immediate  repentance.  Salvation  by  Christ. 

of  suffering  anguish  of  mind,  and  all  the  horrors  of  re- 
morse, a  single  moment,  in  order  to  prepare  the  soul  for 
Christ.  It  is  doubtless  true,  that  persons  do  often  thus 
suffer,  and  are  perhaps  led  by  it  in  the  end  to  fly  to  the 
refuge.  But  they  ought  to  have  fled  to  the  refuge  with- 
out this  suffering  in  the  beginning.  The  truth  is,  that 
God  commands  "  men  every  where  to  repent."  It  is  a 
notorious  fact,  that  they  will  not  comply.  When  the 
duty  of  humbly  confessing  their  sins  to  God  is  clearly 
brought  before  them,  there  is  often  so  great  a  desire  to 
continue  in  sin,  that  a  very  painful  struggle  continues 
for  some  time.  Now  this  struggle  is  all  our  own  fault, — 
it  is  something  that  lyc  add  altogether; — God  does  not 
require  it.  He  says  come  to  me  at  once.  Ministers  in 
the  pulpit  do  not  urge  this  continued  struggle,  while  sin 
is  cherished  in  the  heart ;  so  far  from  desiring  it  are  they, 
that  they  urge  their  hearers  to  come  at  once  to  the  Sa- 
vior and  be  happy  ; — and  when  any  of  their  hearers  are 
suffering  in  consequence  of  their  indecision,  the  pastor, 
so  far  from  wishing  them  to  continue  in  this  state  as  a 
part  of  their  duty,  urges  them  with  all  his  power  to  ter- 
minate it  at  once,  by  giving  up  their  hearts  to  God  and 
to  happiness.  And  yet  so  reluctant  are  men  to  give  up 
their  hearts  to  God,  and  so  exceedingly  common  is  this 
guilty  struggle,  that  by  the  young  it  is  often  considered 
as  a  painful  part  of  duty.  They  think  they  cannot  be- 
come Christians  without  it.  Some  try  to  awaken  it  and 
continue  it,  and  are  sad  because  they  cannot  succeed. 
Others,  who  are  serving  their  Maker,  and  endeavoring 
to  grow  in  grace  and  to  prepare  for  heaven,  feel  but 
little  confidence  in  his  sympathy  or  affection  for  them, 
because  just  before  they  concluded  to  yield  to  God  sin 
did  not  make  such  violent  and  desperate  efforts  in  their 
hearts,  as  in  some  others,  to  retain  its  hold. 

No,  my  reader,  there  is  no  necessity  of  any  prolonged 
struggle,  or  suffering.     If  this  chapter  has  led  you  to  be 


30  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  1. 

Slory  of  the  infant  school.  The  new  scholar. 

willing  to  confess  your  sins,  you  may  confess  them  now, 
and  from  this  moment  be  calm,  and  peaceful,  and  happy. 
My  readers  will  recollect  that  I  mentioned  in  the  early 
part  of  this  chapter  two  points  connected  with  confes- 
sion, viz.  reparation  and  punishment.  In  confessing  sins 
to  God,  we  have  no  reparation  to  him  to  make,  and  no 
punishment  to  suffer.  We  have  a  Savior,  and  we  fly  to 
him.  He  makes  reparation,  and  he  has  already  suffered 
for  us.  We  must  come  trusting  in  him.  I  hope  very 
many  of  my  readers  will  see  that  both  duty  and  happi- 
ness urge  them  to  take  the  simple  course  I  have  endea- 
vored to  describe  and  illustrate,  and  that  they  will  now 
take  it,  and  follow  me  through  the  remaining  chapters  of 
this  book  with  hearts  bent  on  loving  and  serving  God. 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE   FRIEND. 
"  To  whom  shall  we  go  ?" 

There  is  a  very  excellent  infant  school  in  one  of  the 
chief  towns  of  Switzerland,  where  many  young  children 
are  collected  under  the  care  of  a  most  kind  and  faithful 
superintendent  and  assistant,  to  receive  moral  and  intel- 
lectual instruction.  Whenever  a  new  pupil  is  admitted, 
she  looks  with  fear  and  trembling  upon  the  strange 
scene  before  her.  A  large  open  room  is  filled  with  the 
children  standing  in  rows  or  collected  in  busy  groups, 
and  in  the  pleasant  play-ground,  verdant  with  grass  and 
trees,  many  others  are  seen  full  of  activity  and  happiness. 

It  is  the  custom  whenever  a  new  scholar  enters  the 
school,  for  the  teacher  to  collect  all  the  children  in  the 
great  room,  extending  them  in  a  line  around  it ;  and  then 
he  walks  into  the  midst,  leading  the  little  stranger  by  the 


Ch.  2.]  THE  FRIEND.  31 

The  protector  appointed.  Power  and  sympathy. 

hand,  and  something  like  the  following  conversation 
ensues. 

Teacher.  "  Here  is  a  little  girl  who  has  come  to  join 
our  school.  She  is  a  stranger,  and  is  afraid.  Will  you 
all  promise  to  treat  her  kindly  ?" 

Pupils.  (All  answering  together.)  "  Yes,  Sir,  we 
will." 

Teacher.  "  She  has  told  me  that  she  will  try  to  be  a 
good  girl  and  to  do  her  duty,  but  sometimes  she  w^ill  for- 
get, I  am  afraid,  and  sometimes  she  will  yield  to  tempta- 
tion and  do  wrong.  Now  which  of  the  older  children 
will  be  her  little  friend,  to  be  with  her  for  a  few  days  till 
she  becomes  acquainted  with  the  school,  and  tell  her  what 
she  ought  to  do,  and  help  her  to  watch  herself,  that  she 
may  avoid  doing  wrong  ? 

f    Several  voices  at  once.     "  1  will,  I  will.  Sir."  ""* 

'  The  teacher  then  selects  from  those  who  thus  volun- 
teer, one  of  the  best  and  oldest  children,  and  constitutes 
her  the  friend  and  protector  of  the  stranger.  They  are 
together  wherever  they  go.  A  strong  mutual  attachment 
springs  up  between  them.  If  the  stranger  is  injured  in 
any  way,  the  protector  feels  aggrieved  :  kindness  shown 
to  one  touches  almost  as  effectually  the  other,  and  thus 
the  trembling  stranger  is  guided  and  encouraged,  and  led 
on  to  duty  and  to  strength  by  the  influence  of  her  protec- 
tor, though  that  protector  is  only  another  child. 

"We  all  need  a  protector^  especially  in  our  moral  inte- 
rests. The  human  heart  seems  to  be  formed  to  lean  upon 
something  stronger  than  itself  for  support.  We  are  so 
surrounded  with  difficulties  and  temptations,  and  dangers 
here,  that  we  need  a  refuge  in  v/hich  we  can  trust.  Chil- 
dren find  such  a  protector  and  such  a  refuge  in  their  pa- 
rents. How  much  safer  you  feel  in  sickness  if  your  father 
or  your  mother  is  by  your  bedside.  How  often,  in  a 
summer  evening,  when  a  dark  heavy  cloud  is  thundering 
in  the  sky,  and  the  window  glitters  with  the  brightness 


32                                         YOUNG    CHRISTIAN. 

[Ch.  2. 

Power  and  sympathy. 

A  sure  protector. 

of  the  lightning,  do  the  children  of  a  family  sigh  for  their 
father's  return,  and  feel  relieved  and  almost  safe  when  he 
comes  among  them.  But  when  man  is  mature  he  can  find 
no  earthly  protector.  He  must  go  alone  unless  he  has  a 
friend  above. 

A  protector  and  friend  ought  to  possess  two  distinct 
qualifications,  which  it  is  very  diflScult  to  find  united.  He 
ought  to  be  our  superior  both  in  knowledge  and  power, 
so  that  we  can  confide  in  his  protection,  and  yet  he  ought 
to  be  in  the  same  circumstances  with  ourselves,  that  he 
may  understand  and  appreciate  our  trials  and  difiiculties. 

Now  my  object  in  this  chapter  is  to  endeavor  to  show 
my  readers  that  they  need,  and  that  they  can  have  just 
such  a  protector  and  friend — one  that  has  power  to  save 
to  the  uttermost,  and  yet  one  that  knows  by  his  own  ex- 
perience all  your  trials  and  cares.  I  know  that  if  any  of 
you  go  and  confess  your  sins  to  God,  and  begin  a  life  of 
piety  now,  that  you  will,  without  aid  from  above,  wan- 
der away  into  sin,  forget  your  resolutions,  displease  God 
more  than  ever,  and  mo-re  than  ever  destroy  your  own 
peace  of  mind.  I  wish,  therefore,  to  persuade  all  those 
who  desire  henceforth  to  do  their  duty,  to  come  now  and 
unite  themselves  in  indissoluble  bonds  with  the  moral  pro- 
tector and  friend,  whose  character  I  am  about  to  describe. 

In  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  2nd  chapter  and  16th 
verse,  there  occurs  the  following  remarkable  passage  : — 
"  For  verily  he,"  i.  e.  Christ,  "  took  not  on  him  the  na- 
ture of  angels,  but  he  took  on  him  the  seed  of  Abraham. 
Wherefore  in  all  things  it  behoved  him  to  be  made  like 
unto  his  brethren,  that  he  might  be  a  merciful  and  faith- 
ful high  priest  in  things  pertaining  to  God."  Here  you 
see  how  the  two  qualifications  named  above  were  united 
in  our  Savior.  He  might  have  come  from  heaven  and  died 
upon  the  cross  to  make  atonement  for  our  sins,  without 
suflfering,  as  he  did,  so  long  a  pilgrimage  below,  as  a 
"  man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with  grief."     But  he 


Ch.  2.]  THE    FRIEND.  33 

Story  of  the  sailor  boy.  The  captain's  want  of  sympathy. 

came  and  lived  here  thirty  years,  tasted  of  eA'-ery  bitter 
cup  which  we  have  to  drink,  in  order  that  he  might  know 
by  experience  all  our  trials  and  troubles,  and  be  able 
more  effectually  to  sympathize  with  us  and  help  us.  He 
took  not  on  him  the  nature  of  angels,  but  he  took  on  him 
the  seed  of  AbraJiam,  i.  c.  the  nature  of  man. 

I  wish  my  readers  would  pause  and  reflect  a  moment 
upon  these  two  elements  in  the  character  of  a  valuable 
protector, — viz.  power  and  sympathy,  and  consider  how 
seldom  they  are  united.  I  will  give  one  or  two  exam- 
ples which  may  help  to  illustrate  the  subject. 

A  mother  with  a  large  family,  and  but  slender  means 
to  provide  for  their  wants,  concluded  to  send  her  eldest 
son  to  sea.  She  knew  that  though  the  toils  and  labors  of 
a  sea-faring  life  were  extreme,  they  could  he  home,  and 
they  brought  with  them  many  pleasures  and  many  useful 
results.  She  agreed,  therefore,  with  a  Sea  Captain,  a 
distant  relative  of  hers,  to  admit  her  boy  on  board  his 
ship.  The  Captain  became  really  interested  in  his  new 
friend — said  he  would  take  good  care  of  him,  teach  him 
his  duty  on  ship  board,  and  help  him  on  in  the  v/orld,  if 
he  was  diligent  and  faithful. 

The  boy  looked  with  some  dread  upon  the  prospect  of 
bidding  farewell  to  his  mother,  to  his  brothers  and  sisters, 
and  his  quiet  home,  to  explore  unknown  and  untried 
scenes,  and  to  encounter  the  dangers  of  a  stormy  ocean. 
He,  however,  bade  all  farewell,  and  was  soon  tossing 
upon  the  waters,  feeling  safe  under  his  new  protector. 
He  soon  found,  however,  that  the  Captain  had  poioer, 
but  that  he  had  not  sympathy.  He  would  sometimes,  in 
a  stormy  night,  when  the  masts  were  reeling  to  and  fro, 
and  the  bleak  wind  was  whistling  through  the  frozen 
rigging,  make  him  go  aloft,  though  the  poor  boy,  unac- 
customed to  the  giddy  height,  was  in  an  agony  of  terror, 
and  in  real  danger  of  falling  headlong  to  the  deck.  The 
Captain  had  forgotten  what  were  his  own  feelings  when 

2* 


34  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   3. 

Sailor  boy  continued.  The  little  ship. 

he  was  himself  a  boy,  or  he  would  probably  have  taught 
this  necessary  part  of  seamanship  in  a  more  gentle  and 
gradual  manner.  He  thought  the  boy  ought  to  learn,  and 
his  want  oi sympathy  with  his  feelings  led  him  to  a  course 
which  was  severe,  and  in  fact  cruel,  though  not  intention- 
ally so. 

The  captain  never  spoke  to  his  young  charge,  except- 
ing to  command  him.  He  took  no  interest  in  his  little 
concerns.  Once  the  boy  spent  all  his  leisure  time  indus- 
triously in  rigging  out  a  little  ship  complete.  "  This," 
thought  he,  "  will  please  the  captain.  He  wants  me  to 
learn,  and  this  will  show  him  that  I  have  been  learning." 
As  he  went  on,  however,  from  day  to  day,  the  captain 
took  no  notice  of  his  work.  A  word  or  a  look  of  satis- 
faction from  his  protector  would  have  gratified  him  ex- 
ceedingly. But  no ; — the  stern,  weather-beaten  officer 
could  not  sympathize  with  a  child  or  appreciate  his  feel- 
ings at  all,  and  one  day  when  the  boy  had  been  sent  away 
from  his  work  for  a  moment,  the  captain  came  upon 
deck,  and  after  looking  around  a  moment,  he  said  to  a 
rough-looking  man  standing  there,  "  I  say.  Jack,  I  wish 
you  would  clear  away  a  little  here — coil  those  lines — and 
that  boy's  bauble  there, — you  may  as  well  throw  it  over- 
board, he  never  will  make  anything  of  it." 

Commands  on  board  ship  must  be  obeyed  ;  and  the 
poor  cabin  boy  came  up  from  below  just  in  time  to  catch 
the  captain's  words,  and  to  see  his  little  ship  fly  from  the 
sailor^s  hands  into  the  waves.  It  fell  upon  its  side — its 
sails  were  drenched  with  the  water,  and  it  fast  receded 
from  view.  The  boy  went  to  his  hammock  and  wept 
bitterly.  His  heart  was  wounded  deeply,  but  the  stern 
captain  did  not  know  it.  How  could  he  sympathize 
with  the  feelings  of  a  child  ? 

And  yet  this  captain  was  the  real  friend  of  the  boy.  He 
protected  him  in  all  ^reai  dangers,  took  great  care  of  him 
when  in  foreign  ports,  that  he  should  not  be  exposed  to 


Ch.  2.]  THE    FRIEND.  35 

The  captain  a  real  friend.  The  Savior. 

sickness  nor  to  temptation.  When  they  returned  home 
he  recommended  him  to  another  ship,  and  where,  through 
the  captain's  influence,  he  had  a  better  situation  and 
higher  wages, — and  he  had  assisted  him  in  various  ways 
for  many  years.  Now  this  boy  had  a  protector  who  had 
power,  but  not  sympathy. 

This  boy  however  might  have  had  a  friend  who  would 
have  sympathized  with  him  fully,  but  who  would  have 
had  no  power.  I  might  illustrate  this  case  also,  by  suppos- 
ing in  the  next  ship  which  he  should  enter,  that  the  cap- 
tain should  feel  no  interest  in  him  at  all,  but  that  he  should 
have  with  him  there  a  brother,  or  another  boy  of  his 
own  age,  who  would  be  his  constant  companion  and 
friend, — entering  into  all  his  feelings,  sympathizing  with 
him  in  his  enjoyments  and  in  his  troubles, — but  yet  hav- 
ing no  power  to  protect  him  from  real  evils,  or  to  avert 
any  dangers  which  might  threaten.  I  might  suppose 
such  a  case,  and  following  the  boy  in  imagination  into 
the  new  scene,  I  might  show  that  sympathy  alone  is  not 
sufficient.  But  it  is  not  necessary  to  do  this.  All  my 
readers,  doubtless,  already  fully  understand  the  distinc- 
tion between  these  two,  and  the  necessity  that  they  should 
be  united  in  such  a  protector  as  we  all  need. 

The  great  Friend  of  sinners  unites  these.  He  is  able 
to  save  to  the  uttermost  all  that  come  unto  God  through 
him,  and  he  can  fully  sympathize  with  us  in  all  our  trials 
and  cares  ;  for  he  has  been  upon  the  earth, — suffering  all 
that  Vie  have  to  suffer,  and  drinking  of  every  cup  which 
is  presented  to  our  lips.  He  became  flesh,  i.  e.  he  became 
a  man,  and  dwelt  among  us  ;  so  that,  as  the  Bible  most 
forcibly  and  beautifully  expresses  it,  '  we  have  not  an 
high  priest  which  cannot  be  touched  with  a  feeling  of  our 
infirmities,  but  was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we  are, 
yet  without  sin.' 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  our  Savior  did  not  com- 
mence his  public  ministrations  till  he  was  thirty  years  of 


36  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  2. 

His  thirty  years  of  life.  Howard.    , 

age.  Thirty  years  he  spent — in  what  ?  Why,  in  learn- 
ing, by  slow  and  painful  experience,  what  it  is  to  be  a  hu- 
man being  in  this  world  of  trial.  Have  I  a  reader  who 
is  only  ten  or  twelve  years  of  age  ?  Remember,  the  Sa- 
vior was  once  as  young  as  you, — exposed  to  such  little 
difficulties  and  trials  as  you  are.  He  has  gone  through 
the  whole,  from  infancy  upw^ard,  and  he  does  not  forget. 
You  may  be  sure,  then,  that  he  is  ready  to  sympathize 
with  you.  If  any  thing  is  great  enough  to  interest  you, 
you  may  be  sure  it  is  great  enough  to  interest  him  in 
your  behalf.  He  remembers  his  own  childhood,  and  will 
sympathize  with  the  feelings  of  yours. 

This  plan  of  coming  into  our  world  and  becoming  one 
of  us,  and  remaining  in  obscurity  so  long,  that  he  might 
learn  by  experiment  what  the  human  condition  is,  in  all 
its  details,  was  certainly  a  very  extraordinary  one.  It  is 
spoken  of  as  very  extraordinary  every  where  in  the 
Bible. 

You  have  all  heard  of  Howard,  the  philanthropist. 
When  he  was  thirty  or  forty  years  of  age,  there  were, 
every  where  in  Europe,  jails  and  dungeons  filled  with 
wretched  prisoners,  some  of  whom  were  guilty  and  some 
innocent.  They  were  crowded  together  in  small,  cold, 
damp  rooms.  Their  food  was  scanty  and  bad, — dreadful 
diseases  broke  out  among  them ;  and  when  this  was  the  case 
they  were,  in  a  vast  multitude  of  cases,  left  to  sufTer  and  to 
die  in  unmitigated  agony.  Very  few  knew  their  condition, 
and  there  were  none  to  pity  or  relieve  them,  until  How- 
ard undertook  the  task.  He  left  his  home  in  England 
and  went  forth,  encountering  every  difficulty  and  every 
discouragement,  until  he  had  explored  thoroughly  this 
mass  of  misery  and  brought  it  to  public  view,  and  had 
done  every  thing  he  could  to  mitigate  its  severity 

This  was  extraordinary  enough,  and  it  attracted  uni- 
versal attention.  All  Europe  was  surprised  that  a  man 
should  devote  years  of  life  to  a  most  arduous  and  hazard- 


Ch.  2.]  THE    FRIEND.  37 

~  Story  of  Howard.  Imaginary  scene. 

ous  labor,  thus  exposing  himself  to  the  most  loathsome 
influences  and  to  the  worst  diseases,  without  any  prospect 
of  remuneration,  and  all  for  the  sole  purpose  of  relieving 
the  suflerings  of  criminals, — of  men  whom  the  world  had 
cast  o fi' as  unfit  for  human  society.  It  was,  I  acknow- 
ledge, extraordinary; — but  what  would  have  been  the 
sensation  produced,  if  Howard  could  not  have  gained  ad- 
mission to  these  scenes,  so  as  effectually  to  accomplish 
his  object  without  becoming  hi?nself  a prisonei'j  and  thus 
sharing  for  a  time  the  fate  of  those  whom  he  was  en- 
deavoring to  save  ?  Suppose  he  should  consent  to  this. 
Imagine  him  approaching  for  this  purpose  some  dreary 
prison.  He  passes  its  dismal  threshold,  and  the  bolts 
and  bars  of  the  gloomiest  dungeon  are  turned  upon  him. 
He  lays  aside  the  comfortable  dress  of  the  citizen  for  the 
many-colored  garb  of  confinement  and  disgrace.  He 
holds  out  his  arm  for  the  manacles,  and  lies  down  at  night 
upon  his  bed  of  straw,  and  lingers  away  months,  or  per- 
haps years  of  wretchedness,  for  no  other  purpose  than 
that  he  may  know  fully  what  wretchedness  is.  He  thus 
looks  misery  in  the  face,  and  takes  it  by  the  hand,  and 
he  emerges  at  last  from  his  cell,  emaciated  by  disease, 
worn  out  by  the  gloom  of  perpetual  night, — and  his  heart 
sickened  by  the  atmosphere  of  sin  and  shame.  Suppose 
he  had  done  this,  how  strongly  could  he,  after  it,  sympa- 
thize with  the  sufl^erings  of  a  prisoner,  and  how  cordially 
and  with  what  confidence  can  the  inmates  of  those  abodes 
come  to  him  with  their  story  of  wo. 

Now,  we  have  such  a  Savior  as  this  is.  He  has  been 
among  us.  He  has  himself  experienced  every  kind  of 
trial  and  sufl^ring  which  we  have  to  endure.  So  that  if 
we  choose  him  for  our  friend,  we  may  come  to  him  on 
every  occasion,  sure  of  finding  not  only  sympathy  to  feel 
for  us,  but  power  to  relieve  us.  No  matter  what  may  be 
the  source  of  our  trial,  whether  great  or  small  :  if  it  is 
great  enough  to  interest  us,  it  is  great  enough  to  interest 


38  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  2. 

The  Savior.  Human  sympathy. 

him  for  us.  Perhaps  some  young  child  who  reads  this 
has  been  pained  to  the  heart  by  the  unkindness  of  some 
one  in  whom  he  had  reposed  all  his  confidence.  The  ac- 
tion which  showed  this  neglect  or  unkindness  was  so 
trifling,  that  perhaps  the  little  sulferer  feels  that  no  one 
can  sympathize  with  him  in  apparently  so  small  a  cause 
of  sorrow.  But  Jesus  Christ  was  once  as  young  a  child 
as  you ;  he  too,  doubtless,  had  companions  and  friends, 
and  if  he  did  not  experience  unkindness  and  ingratitude 
at  their  hands,  childhood  was  the  only  time  of  his  life  in 
which  he  was  free  from  these  injuries.  He,  doubtless, 
knows  them  full  well ;  and  there  is  one  thing  in  which 
the  sympathy  of  our  Savior  differs  from  that  of  every 
other  friend — he  judges  not  from  the  magnitude  of  the 
cause  of  sorrow,  but  from  the  real  effect  of  that  cause 
upon  the  heart  which  suffers  it.  If  a  child  is  agitated  by 
a  trifling  cause,  he  looks  at  the  greatness  of  the  agita- 
tion and  suflering, — not  at  the  insignificance  of  the  cause-. 
But  it  is  not  so  with  men  : — they  judge  from  external 
circumstances. 

In  all  the  greater  trials  of  life,  I  mean  those  which  come 
from  greater  and  more  permanent  causes,  we  may  confi- 
dently expect  sympathy  and  fellow  feeling  if  we  come  to 
the  Savior.  Does  poverty  threaten  you?  He  knows 
what  poverty  is  better  than  you, — for  years,  he  knew  not 
where  to  lay  his  head.  Do  you  suffer  from  the  unkind 
treatment  of  others  ?  He  has  tried  this  in  the  extreme, 
and  can  fully  sympathize  with  you.  Do  you  weep  over 
the  grave  of  a  beloved  friend  ?  Jesus  wept  from  this 
cause  long  before  you.  In  fact,  he  went  about  the  world, 
not  only  to  do  good,  but  to  taste  of  suffering,  that  he 
might  know,  with  all  the  vividness  of  experience,  exactly 
what  suffering,  in  all  its  variety,  is. 

We  all  love  sympathy  when  we  are  suffering, — but 
there  is  one  occasion  on  which  we  feel  the  need  of  it  still 
more — I  mean  in  temptation.    We  need  sympathy  when 


Ch.  2.]  THE    FRIEND.  39 


The  murderer's  cell.  Sympathy  for  the  guilty. 

we  are  struggling  with  temptation,  and  still  more  when 
we  have  done  wrong,  and  are  reaping  its  bitter  fruits.  A 
dreadful  murder  was  once  committed,  which  aroused  the 
alarm  and  indignation  of  an  extensive  community — every 
one  expressed  the  strongest  abhorrence  of  the  deed,  and 
made  the  greatest  effort  to  procure  the  arrest  and  punish- 
ment of  the  criminal.  And  this  was  right.  But  with 
this  feeling  there  should  have  been,  in  every  heart,  strong 
compassion  for  the  miserable  criminal. 

He  was  arrested,  tried,  and  condemned  to  die ;  and  a 
few  hours  before  the  execution  of  the  sentence,  I  went 
with  a  clergyman  who  often  visited  him,  to  see  him  in 
his  cell. 

When  we  had  entered  his  gloomy  prison,  the  jailor 
closed  behind  us  its  massive  iron  door,  and  barred  and 
locked  it.  We  found  ourselves  in  a  spacious  passage, 
with  a  stone  floor,  and  stone  walls,  and  stone  roof,  and 
with  narrow  iron  doors  on  each  side,  leading  to  the  cells 
of  the  various  prisoners.  We  ascended  the  stairs,  and 
found  every  story  assuming  the  same  rigid  features  of 
iron  and  stone.  In  a  corner  of  the  upper  story  was  the 
cell  of  the  murderer. 

A  little  grated  window  opened  into  the  passage-way. 
The  jailor  tapped  softly  at  the  window,  and  informed  the 
prisoner,  in  a  kind  and  gentle  tone,  that  the  clergyman 
had  come. 

"  Should  you  like  to  have  us  come  in  ?"  asked  the 
jailor. 

The  prisoner  instantly  assented,  and  the  jailor  unbolted 
and  unbarred  the  door.  "  Strange !"  thought  I.  "  Here 
is  a  man  who  has  outraged  the  laws  of  both  God  and  man, 
and  a  whole  community  has  arisen  in  justice,  and  declared 
that  he  is  unworthy  to  live,  and  to-morrow,  by  the  hand 
of  violence,  he  is  to  die.  And  yet  his  very  keeper  treats 
him  so  tenderly  that  he  will  not  come  into  his  cell  with- 
out first  obtaining  permission  !" 


40  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  2. 

The  keeper's  kindness  to  the  prisoner.  The  Savior. 

As  we  passed  through  the  narrow  aperture  in  the  thick 
stone  wall  which  the  iron  door  had  closed,  the  whole  as- 
pect of  the  room  and  of  the  prisoner  was  one  which  ef- 
fectually removed  my  surprise  that  he  should  be  treated 
with  kindness  and  compassion.     He  was  pale  and  hag- 
gard, and  he  trembled  very  exceedingly.     He  seemed 
exhausted  by  the  agony  of  remorse  and  terror.     A  few 
hours  before  his  wife  had  been  in  the  cell  to  bid  him  a 
final  farewell,  and  the  next  day  he  was  to  be  led  forth  to 
execution  in  the  presence  of  thousands.     In  the  mean- 
time the  walls,  and  floor,  and  roof  of  his  cell — of  conti- 
nued, uninterrupted  stone  and  iron — seemed  to  say  to  him, 
wherever  he  looked,  '*  Yoii  shall  not  escape.'^  It  seemed 
as  if  the  eye  would  have  rested  with  a  feeling  of  relief 
upon  a  board  or  a  curtain,  even  if  it  concealed  a  stone 
behind, — with  so  forbidding  and  relentless  a  gripe  did 
this  dismal  cell  seem  to  hold  its  unhappy  tenant.     As  I 
looked  between  the  heavy  iron  bars  of  his  grated  window 
upon  the  distant  plains  and  hills,  and  thought  how  ar- 
dently he  must  wish  that  he  were  once  more  innocent 
and  free,  I  forgot  the  cold-blooded  brutality  of  the  crime, 
and  only  mourned  over  the  misery  and  ruin  of  the  man. 
The  world  does  in  such   cases   sympathize  with  one 
suffering  from  remorse;  but,  generally,  men  are  indignant 
with  the  offender  if  his  crime  is  great,  and  they  treat 
him  with  ridicule  and  scorn  if  it  is  small.     Jesus  Christ, 
however,  pities  a  sinner.     He  loved  us  while  we  were 
yet  in  our  sins;  he  came  to  save  us.     He  came,  not  to 
inflict   the    punishment   which    our  guilt  deserved,  but 
to  redeem    us    from   the  sufferings  into  which    it   had 
brought  us. 

This  is  every  where  very  apparent  in  his  whole  history. 
Often  the  greatest  sinners  came  to  him,  and  he  never  re- 
proached them  when  they  came  with  a  humble  and  peni- 
tent heart.  He  always  endeavored  to  relieve  them  of 
their  burden  of  guilt,  and  to  give  them  assurance  of  par- 


Ch.  2.]  THE    FRIEND.  41 

The  Savior's  sympathy.  Common  distrust  of  it. 


don  and  peace.  On  one  occasion,  how  kindly  does  he 
say  to  a  very  guilty  sinner,  "  I  do  not  condemn  thee,  go 
and  sin  no  more.'*  Instead  of  intending  to  add  to  the 
burden  of  guilt  by  exhibiting  coldly  the  contrast  of  his 
own  bright  example,  or  by  his  severe  rebukes,  he  says, 
'*  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden 
and  I  will  give  you  rest." 

Persons  who  wish  to  be  saved  from  sin,  very  often  dis- 
trust the  Savior's  willingness  to  receive  them.  They 
acknowledge,  in  general  terms,  his  kindness  and  compas- 
sion, and  think  that  he  is,  in  all  ordinary  cases,  willing 
to  save  the  chief  of  sinners  ;  but  they  think  there  is  some- 
thing peculiar  in  their  case,  which  should  prevent  them 
from  coming  to  him  in  confidence.  I  observed  that  this 
peculiarity  is  almost  always  one  of  two  things  : — 1.  That 
they  do  not  engage  ardently  enough  in  the  work  of  sal- 
vation ;  or,  2.  That  they  have  often  resolved  before,  and 
broken  their  resolutions. 

Do  not  some  of  you,  my  readers,  feel  unwilling  to  come 
to  the  Savior,  because  you  think  that  you  do  not  feel  a 
sufficient  interest  in  the  subject?  You  know  that  you  are 
sinners,  and  would  like  to  be  free  from  sin.  You  would 
like  such  a  friend  as  I  describe  the  Savior  to  be,  but  you 
have  no  sufficiently  strong  conviction,  and  you  think  the 
promises  are  not  for  you. 

Or  perhaps  some  of  you,  though  you  feel  a  deep  interest 
in  the  subject,  may  be  discouraged  and  disheartened  by 
the  sins  you  find  yourselves  constantly  committing,  and 
by  your  repeatedly  broken  resolutions.  You  think  the 
Savior  must  be  wearied  out  by  your  continual  backslid- 
ings  and  sins,  and  you  are  ready  to  give  up  the  contest, 
and  to  think  that  final  holiness  and  peace  is  not  for  you. 
Now  there  are  throughout  our  land  vast  multitudes 
who  are  vainly  endeavoring  to  make  their  hearts  better, 
in  order  to  recommend  themselves  to  their  Savior's  care. 
You   must  indeed    endeavor  by    every  effort    to   make 


43  yOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   2 

Illustration.  Case  of  the  sick  man. 

your  heart  better,  but  not  as  a  means  of  recommending 
yourself  to  the  Savior.  Come  to  him  at  once,  just  as  you 
are,  and  seek  his  sympathy  and  assistance  in  the  work. 

Inquirers  after  the  path  of  piety  are  very  slow  to  learn 
that  the  Savior  is  the  friend  of  sinners.  They  will  not 
learn  that  he  came  to  help  us  while  we  are  in  our  trials 
and  difficulties,  not  after  we  get  out  of  them.  How  many  say 
in  their  hearts,  I  must  overcome  this  sin,  or  free  myself 
from  that  temptation,  and  then  I  will  come  to  the  Savior.  I 
must  have  clearer  views  of  my  own  sins,  or  deeper  peni- 
tence, or  awaken  true  love  to  God  in  my  heart,  and  then, 
but  not  till  then,  can  I  expect  Christ  to  be  my  friend. 
What!  do  you  suppose  that  it  is  the  office  of  Jesus  Christ 
to  stand  aloof  from  the  struggling  sinner  until  he  has, 
by  his  own  unaided  strength,  and,  without  assistance  or 
sympathy,  finished  the  contest,  and  then  only  to  come 
and  offer  his  congratulations  after  the  victory  is  won  ?  Is 
this  such  a  Savior  as  you  imagine  the  Bible  to  describe  ? 
'  At  the  door  of  one  of  the  chambers  of  the  house  in 
which  you  reside,  you  hear  a  moaning  sound,  as  of  one 
in  distress.  You  enter  hastily,  and  find  a  sick  man 
writhing  in  pain,  and  struggling  alone  with  his  sufferings. 
As  soon  as  you  understand  the  case,  you  say  to  him, 

"  We  must  send  for  a  physician  immediately  ;  there  is 
one  at  the  next  door  who  will  come  in  in  a  moment. 

*'  O  no,"  groans  out  the  sufferer,  "  I  am  in  no  state 
to  send  for  a  physician.  My  head  aches  dreadfully — I 
am  almost  distracted  with  pain.  I  fear  I  am  very  dange- 
rously ill." 

"  Then  we  must  have  a  physician  immediately,"  you 
reply.  "  Run  and  call  him,"  you  say,  turning  to  an  attend- 
ant, "  ask  him  to  come  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  O  stop  !  stop  !"  says  the  sick  man,  *'  wait  till  I  get 
a  little  easier; — my  breath  is  very  short  and  my  pulse 
very  feeble,  and  besides  I  have  been  getting  worse  and 
worse  every  half  hour  for  some  time,  and  I  am  afraid 


Ch.  2.]  THE  FRIEND.  43 

Jesus  Christ  a  physician.  Struggling  with  temptation. 

there  is  no  hope  for  me.  Wait  a  little  while,  and  per- 
haps I  may  feel  better,  and  then  I  will  send  for  him." 

You  would  turn  after  hearing  such  words,  and  say  in  a 
gentle  voice  to  the  attendant,  "  He  is  wandering  in  mind. 
Call  the  physician  immediately." 

Now  Jesus  Christ  is  a  physician.  He  comes  to  heal 
your  sins.  If  you  wish  to  be  healed,  come  to  him  at 
once,  just  as  you  are.  The  soul  that  waits  for  purer  mo- 
tives, or  for  a  deeper  sense  of  guilt,  or  for  a  stronger  in- 
terest in  the  subject,  before  it  comes  to  Christ,  is  a  sick 
person  waiting  for  health  before  he  sends  for  a  physician. 
Jesus  Christ  came  to  help  you  in  ohtaining  these  feelings, 
not  to  receive  you  after  you  have  made  yourself  holy 
without  him.  You  have,  I  well  know,  great  and  arduous 
struggles  to  make  with  sin.  Just  as  certainly  as  you  at- 
tempt them  alone,  you  will  become  discouraged  and  fail. 
Come  to  the  Savior  before  you  begin  them,  for  I  do  as- 
sure you  you  will  need  help. 

One  great  object  which  our  Savior  had  in  view  in  re- 
maining so  long  in  the  world,  was  to  understand  our 
temptations,  and  the  contests  which  they  bring  up  in  the 
heart. 

It  is  very  often  the  case,  that  persons  are  struggling 
with  temptations  and  sins  almost  in  solitude,  and  those 
to  whgm  they  are  directly  accountable  do  not  appreciate 
the  circumstances  in  which  they  are  placed,  and  the  ef- 
forts they  make  to  overcome  temptation.  I  presume  that 
teachers  very  often  blame  their  pupils  with  a  severity 
which  they  would  not  use  if  they  remembered  distinctly 
the  feelings  of  childhood.  Perhaps  a  little  boy  is  placed 
on  a  seat  by  his  intimate  friend,  and  commanded  upon 
pain  of  some  very  severe  punishment  not  to  whisper.  He 
tries  to  refrain,  and  succeeds  perhaps  for  half  an  hour  in 
avoiding  every  temptation.  At  last  some  unexpected  oc- 
currence or  some  sudden  thought  darts  into  his  mind, — 
his  resolutions  are  forgotten, — the  presence  of  the  mag- 


44  YOUNG   CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  2. 

The  benevolent  teacher.  The  teacher  imagined  a  scholar. 

ter,  the  regulations  of  the  school,  and  the  special  prohi- 
bition to  him,  all  flit  from  his  mind,  and  after  the  forbid- 
den act,  which  occupied  but  an  instant,  is  done,  he  im- 
mediately awakes  to  the  consciousness  of  having  dis- 
obeyed, and  looks  up  just  in  time  to  see  the  stern  eye  of 
his  teacher  upon   him  speaking  most  distinctly  of  dis- 
pleasure and  of  punishment.     Now  if  any  severe  punish- 
ment should  follow  such  a  transgression,  how  dispropor- 
tionate would  it  be  to  the  guilt !     The  boy  may  indeed 
have  done  wrong, — but  how  slight  must  the  v/rong  be  in 
the  view  of  any  one  who  could  look  into  the  heart,  and 
estimate  truly  its  moral  movements  in  such  a  case  !    It  is 
unquestionably  true,  and  every  wise  teacher  is  fully  aware 
of  it,  that  in  school  discipline  there  is  constant  danger 
that  the  teacher  will  estimate  erroneously  the  moral  cha- 
racter of  the  actions  he  witnesses,  just  because  he  has 
forgotten  the  feelings  of  childhood.     He  cannot  appre- 
ciate its   temptations  or  understand  its  diflicultics,  and 
many  a  little  struggler  with  the  inclinations  which  would 
draw  him  from  duty,  is  chilled  and  discouraged  in  his 
efforts,  because  the  teacher  never  knows  that  he  is  ma- 
king an  effort  to  do  his  duty,  or  at  least  never  under- 
stands the  difficulties  and  trials  which  he  finds  in  his  way. 
Suppose  now  that  such  a  teacher  should  say  to  himself, 
and  suppose  he  could  by  some  magic  power  carry  the 
plan  into  effect, — '  I  will  become    a  little  child  myself, 
and  go  to  school.     I  will  take  these  same  lessons  which 
I  assign,  and  endeavor  to  keep,  myself,  the  rules  which 
I  have  been  endeavoring  to  enforce.     I  will  spend  two 
or  three  weeks  in  this  way,  that  I  may  learn  by  actual 
experience  what  the  difficulties  and  temptations  and  trials 
of  childhood  are.     Suppose  he  could  carry  this  plan  into 
effect,  and  laying  aside  his  accumulated  knowledge  and 
that  strength  of  moral  principle  which  long  habit  had 
formed,  should  assume  the  youth  and  the  spirits  and  all 
the  feelings  of  childhood,  and  should  take  his  place  in 


Ch.  2.]  THE    FRIEND. 


Sympathy  of  Christ.  Howard. 

some  neighboring  school,  unknown  to  his  new  compa- 
nions, to  partake  with  them  in  all  their  trials  and  tempta- 
tions. He  toils  upon  a  perplexing  lesson,  that  he  may- 
know  by  experience  what  the  perplexity  of  childhood  is  ; 
he  obeys  the  strictest  rules,  that  he  may  understand  the 
difficulty  of  obedience  ;  and  he  exposes  himself  to  the  un- 
kindness  or  oppression  of  the  vicious  boys,  that  he  may 
learn  how  hard  it  is  patiently  to  endure  them.  After  fully 
making  the  experiment,  he  resumes  his  former  character 
and  returns  to  his  station  of  authority.  Nowif  this  were 
done,  how  cordially,  how  much  better  can  he  afterward 
sympathize  with  his  pupils  in  their  trials,  and  with  what 
confidence  can  they  come  to  him  in  all  their  cares. 
•  Now  we  have  such  a  Savior  as  this.  The  Word  was 
made  flesh,  i.  e.  became  man  and  dwelt  among  us.  He 
took  not  on  him  the  nature  of  angels,  but  the  nature  of 
man.  "  Wherefore  it  behoved  him  in  all  things  to  be  made 
like  unto  his  brethren,  that  he  might  be  a  merciful  and 
faithful  high  priest.''^  "  We  have  not  an  high  priest  that 
cannot  be  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities,  but 
was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we  are." 

My  reader  will  doubtless  observe  that  this  case  is  some- 
what similar  to  that  of  Howard,  which  I  imagined  in  the 
former  part  of  this  chapter  ;  and  perhaps  you  may  imagine 
that  if  my  paragraphs  had  been  well  arranged,  this  sup- 
position would  have  come  in  connection  with  that.  But 
no.  I  was  then  upon  the  subject  of  sympathy  with  suf 
fering.  I  imagined  Howard  to  become  a  prisoner,  that 
he  might  understand  and  sympathize  with  the  sufferings 
of  prisoners.  Now  I  am  speaking  of  the  subject  of  temp- 
tation and  struggle  against  sin,  and  I  imagine  the  teacher 
to  become  a  child,  that  he  may  appreciate  the  trials  and 
temptations  of  childhood. 

We  may  trust  in  the  sympathy  of  our  Savior  in  this 
last  respect  as  well  as  in  the  other.  His  disposition  to 
feel  compassion  and  sympathy,  and  not  indignation,  in 


46  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    2 

The  benevolent  gentleman.  Sympathy  of  Christ. 

regard  to  those  who  had  brought  themselves  into  diffi- 
culty by  doing  wrong  was  very  often  n  anifested  while 
he  was  upon  the  earth,  and  we  may  be  sure  his  character 
is  not  in  this  respect  altered  now. 

But  it  is  time  that  I  should  bring  this  chapter  to  a 
close.  The  sum  and  substance  of  what  I  have  been  en- 
deavoring to  illustrate  in  it  is  this  :  If  you  confess  all 
your  sins  and  seek  their  forgiveness  in  the  way  in  which 
the  Gospel  points  out,  and  resolve  henceforth  to  lead  a 
life  of  piety,  you  will  need  a  friend  and  helper.  You  will 
want  sympathy,  both  in  your  sufferings  and  in  your 
struggles  luiih  sin.  Jesus  Christ  will  sympathize  with 
you  and  help  you  in  both. 

I  once  knew  a  reverend  gentleman  whose  fortune  ren- 
dered him  independent,  but  whose  medical  knowledge  and 
skill  were  of  a  very  high  order,  and  he  practised  con- 
stantly without  fee  or  reward,  for  the  simple  purpose  of 
relieving  suffering.  The  only  things  necessary  to  secure 
his  attention  were  to  be  sick,  to  need  his  aid,  and  to  send 
for  him.  He  did  not  wish  his  patients  to  become  conva- 
lescent before  he  would  visit  them  ;  nor  did  he  inquire 
how  often  they  had  been  sick  before.  There  was  one  poor 
lad  who  took  cold,  I  believe,  by  breaking  through  the  ice 
in  the  winter,  and  he  was  rendered  a  helpless  cripple  for 
years,  and  yet  this  gentleman  or  some  of  his  family  visited 
him  almost  daily  during  all  this  time,  and  instead  of  get- 
ting tired  of  their  patient,  he  became  more  and  more  in- 
terested in  him  to  the  last.  Now  our  Redeemer  is  such 
a  physician  He  does  not  ask  any  preparation  before  we 
send  for  him  ;  nor  does  he  get  tired  of  us  because  he  has 
helped  us  back  from  our  wanderings  to  duty  and  happi- 
ness a  great  many  times.  Some  one  asked  him  once, 
how  often  he  ought  to  forgive  his  brother  after  repeated 
transgressions.  "  Shall  I  forgive  him  seven  times?"  was 
the  question.  "  Forgive,"  said  the  Savior,  "  not  only 
seven  times,  but  seventy  times  seven."     How  strange  it 


Ch.  3.]  PRAYER.  47 


The  bruised  reed.  Prayer. 

is,  that  after  this  a  backsliding  Christian  can  ever  hesitate 
to  come  back  at  once  after  he  has  wandered,  with  an 
assurance  that  God  will  forgive. 

He  will  not  break  the  bruised  reed.  How  beautiful  and 
striking  an  illustration  of  our  Redeemer's  kindness  to 
those  who  have  sinned.  A  planter  walks  out  into  his 
grounds,  and  among  the  reeds  growing  there,  there  is 
one — young,  green  and  slender — which  a  rude  blast  has 
broken.  Its  verdant  top  is  drenched  in  the  waters  which 
bathe  its  root ;  and  perhaps  he  hesitates  for  a  moment 
whether  to  tear  it  from  the  spot  and  throw  it  away.  But 
no  ;  he  raises  it  to  its  place,  carefully  adjusts  its  bruised 
stem,  and  sustains  it  by  a  support,  till  it  once  more  ac- 
quire its  former  strength  and  beauty.  Now  Jesus  Christ 
is  this  planter.  Every  backsliding  humbled  Christian  is  a 
bruised  reed ;  and  O  how  many  are  now  thriving  and 
vigorous,  that  in  the  hour  of  humiliation  have  been  saved 
by  his  tenderness. 

Come  then  to  this  friend,  all  of  you.  Bring  all  your 
interests  and  hopes  and  fears  to  him  ;  he  will  sympa- 
thize in  them  all.  And  whenever  you  have  wandered 
never  hesitate  a  moment  to  return. 


CHAPTER  ITI. 

PRAYER. 
*'  Whatsoever  ye  shall  ask  in  my  name,  I  will  do  it." 

As  I  have  on  this  subject  many  separate  points  to  dis- 
cuss, I  shall  arrange  what  I  have  to  say  under  several 
distinct  heads,  that  the  view  presented  may  be  the  better 
understood  and  rem.embered. 

I.  Hie  power  of  prayer.  This  subject  may  be  best 
illustrated  by  describing  a  case. 


48  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Cll.  3. 

The  absent  son.    The  father's  promises.    Its  implied  limitations. 

A  kind  and  affectionate  father,  whose  son  had  arrived  at 
an  age  which  rendered  it  necessary  for  him  to  prepare 
for  the  business  of  life,  concluded  to  send  him  from  home. 
Their  mutual  attachment  was  strong,  and  though  each 
knew  it  was  for  the  best,  each  looked  upon  the  approach- 
ing separation  with  regret.  The  father  felt  solicitous  for 
the  future  character  and  happiness  of  his  boy,  as  he  was 
now  to  go  forth  into  new  temptations  and  dangers ;  and 
the  son  was  reluctant  to  leave  the  quiet  and  the  happiness 
of  his  father's  fireside  for  the  bustle  of  business  and  the 
rough  exposures  of  the  crowded  city,  where  he  was  for 
the  future  to  find  a  home.  The  hour  of  separation,  how- 
ever, at  last  arrived,  and  the  father  says  to  him  at  parting, 

*'My  son,  be  faitliful,  do  your  duty,  and  you  will  be 
happy.  Remember  your  parents — the  efforts  they  have 
made,  and  tlie  affection  they  now  feel  for  you.  Watch 
against  temptation,  and  shun  it.  I  will  supply  all  your 
wants.  When  you  wish  for  any  thing,  write  to  me  and 
you  shall  have  it.  And  may  God  bless  you,  and  keep  you 
safe  and  happy." 

My  reader  will  observe  that  this  language,  which  is 
not  fiction,  but  fact,  for  it  has  in  substance  been  addressed 
in  a  thousand  instances  under  the  circumstances  above 
described,  contains  a  promise  to  send  the  son  whatever  he 
shall  ask  for.  But  the  meaning  of  it  is  not — and  no  boy 
would  understand  it  to  be — that  every  possible  request 
which  he  might  make  would  be  certainly  granted.  Al- 
though the  promise  is  made  in  the  iew  simple  words, 
"  whenever  you  want  any  thing,  write  to  me  and  you 
shall  have  it,"  yet  the  meaning  expressed  fully  would  be, 
"  whenever  you  wish  for  any  thing,  which  as  far  as  you 
can  see  is  proper  for  you,  if  you  will  let  me  know  it  I 
will  send  it,  unless  I  see  that  it  is  better  for  you  not  to 
have  it,  or  unless  there  are  other  special  reasons  which 
prevent  my  complying." 

Now  a  boy  may  in  such  a  case  make  a  great  many  re- 


Ch.  3]  PRAYER.  49 

Improper  requests.      Requests  in  an  improper  manner.      Letter. 

quests  which  the  father  might  refuse  without  being  con- 
sidered by  any  one  as  breaking  his  promise. 

1.  He  may  ask  somnthing  which  the  father  knows 
would,  in  the  end,  injure  him.  Suppose  he  should  request 
nis  father  to  supply  him  with  double  his  usual  quantity 
oi  pocket  money,  and  the  father  should  see  clearly  that 
the  effect  of  granting  the  request  would  be  to  cultivate  iij 
him  careless  and  extravagant  habits  of  expenditure,  and 
to  divert  his  attention  from  his  business.  In  such  a  case 
llie  father  would  undoubtedly  refuse,  and  no  one  would 
imagine  that  he  was  breaking  his  promise.  The  boy,  if 
he  had  done  right,  would  not  have  asked. 

2.  He  may  ask  something  which,  if  granted,  would  in- 
terfere with  the  rights  or  happiness  of  others.  There  was 
a  watch,  we  will  imagine,  hanging  up  in  his  father's  house, 
used  by  all  the  family, — the  only  time-piece  accessible  to 
them-  Now  supposing  the  boy, .growing  selfish  and  vain, 
and  thinking  that  his  importance  among  his  comrades 
would  be  a  little  increased  by  a  watch,  should  write  to  his 
father  to  send  that  to  him.  Who  would  think  that  his 
father  would  be  obliged  to  comply  on  account  of  his  part- 
ing promise  to  his  son  to  supply  all  his  wants  ?  Chris- 
tians very  often  make  such  selfish  requests,  and  wonder 
why  their  prayers  are  not  heard.  A  farmer  who  has  one 
field  which  needs  watering,  will  pray  for  rain  with  great 
earnestness,  forgetting  that  God  has  to  take  care  of  the 
ten  thousand  fields  all  around  his  own,  and  that  they  per- 
haps need  the  sun.  A  mother  who  has  a  boy  at  sea  will 
pray  for  prosperous  winds  for  him^  forgetting  that  the 
ocean  is  whitened  with  sails  all  under  God's  C"re,  and 
that  the  breeze  which  bears  one  onward,  must  retard  ano- 
ther.    But  more  on  this  subject  presently. 

3.  He  may  ask  in  an  improper  manner.  Suppose  the 
father  should  take  from  the  post  ofl[ice  a  letter  in  his  son's 
hand-writing,  and  on  breaking  the  seal,  should  read  as 
follows : — 

3 


50  YOUN'G    CHRISTIAN'.  [Ch.  3. 

The  letter.  Our  Savior's  promise. 


"Dear  Father, — 

"  You  must  let  me  come  home  next  week  to  Christmas. 
I  wanted  to  come  last  year,  but  you  would  not  let  me,  and 
now  I  must  come.    I  want  you  to  write  me  immediately, 
and  send  it  back  by  the  driver,  telling  me  I  may  come. 
"  I  am  your  dutiful  son. 


Who  would  think  that  a  father  ought  to  grant  a  re- 
quest made  in  such  a  way  as  this  ?  It  is  to  be  feared  that 
Christians  sometimes  bring  demands,  instead  of  requests, 
to  God. 

I  have  mentioned  now  three  cases  in  which  the  father 
might,  without  breaking  his  promise,  refuse  the  requests 
of  his  boy  ;  where  it  would  be  injurious  to  him,  unjust 
to  others,  or  where  the  request  is  made  in  an  improper 
manner.  All  promises  of  such  a  sort  as  this  are  univer- 
sally considered  as  liable  to  these  exceptions. 

Our  Savior  tells  us,  "  Whatsoever  ye  shall  ask  the  Fa- 
ther, in  my  name,  he  will  do  it."  This  is  common  lan- 
guage, such  as  men  address  to  men,  and  is  to  be  un- 
derstood exactly  in  the  same  way — in  just  such  a  sense, 
and  with  just  such  exceptions.  The  language  means,  if 
it  is  honestly  used,  that  one  of  our  requests  will,  in  ordi- 
nary cases,  have  a  real  influence  with  the  Creator  in  re- 
gard to  things  entirely  beyond  our  control.  It  must  mean, 
that,  generally,  all  our  proper  requests  will  be  granted. 
At  the  same  time  it  must  be  liable  to  the  exceptions  above 
stated,  which  apply  in  all  similar  cases.  God  must  re- 
serve the  right  to  deny  our  requests  when  they  are  made 
in  an  improper  spirit,  and  when  they  ask  what  would  in- 
jure us,  or  interfere  with  the  general  good. 

If  any  of  you  have,  in  accordance  with  the  views  pre- 
sented in  the  two  preceding  chapters,  confessed  your  past 
sins  and  chosen  Jesus  Christ  for  your  friend,  you  will  take 
great  pleasure  in  bringing  your  requests  to  God.  And  you 


Ch.  3.]  PRAYER.  51 

Prayers  denied.  Power  of  prayer. 

may,  in  doing  this,  sometimes  pray  for  success  in  some 
enterprize,  when  God  sees  that  it  is  on  the  whole  best 
that  you  should  fail.  A  man  may  ask  that  God  will  place 
him  in  some  important  station  of  influence  or  usefulness, 
when  the  eye  that  can  see  the  whole  discovers  that  the 
general  good  will  be  promoted  by  another  arrangement. 
Thus  in  many  similar  ways  your  prayers  may  sometimes 
come  within  the  excepted  cases,  and  then  God  will  not 
grant  them.  These  cases,  however,  it  may  be  hoped, 
you  will  generally  avoid,  and  thus  in  a  vast  majority  of 
instances  your  prayers  will  be  heard. 

There  is  even  among  Christians  a  great  deal  of  distrust 
of  the  power  of  prayer.  Some  think  that  prayer  exerts 
a  good  influence  upon  their  own  hearts,  and  thus  they 
continue  the  practice,  without,  however,  having  any  very 
cordial  belief  that  they  are  really  listened  to  and  granted 
as  requests,  by  the  great  Jehovah.  Many  persons  ima- 
gine that  prayer  has  an  efficacy  in  some  such  way  as  this. 
A  man  asks  God  to  protect  and  bless  him  in  his  business. 
By  offering  the  prayer  every  day,  he  is  reminded  of  his 
dependance,  he  thinks  of  the  necessity  of  his  own  industry 
and  patient  effort,  and  thus,  through  the  influence  of  his 
prayer,  the  causes  of  prosperity  are  brought  to  operate 
more  fully  in  his  case,  and  prosperity  comes. 

This  is  indeed  often  one  of  the  happy  results  of  believ- 
inff  prayer  ;  but  it  by  no  means  embraces  the  whole  im- 
port of  the  promise,  "  Whatsoever  ye  shall  ask  the  Fa- 
ther he  shall  do  it."  The  Father  shall  do  it.  This  is  a 
promise  that  God  shall  do  something  which  we  ask  him 
to  do, — not  simply  that  the  natural  eflfect  of  our  asking 
will  be  favorable  in  its  influence  upon  us. 

There  is  another  way  in  which  it  seems  to  me  there  is 
a  great  deal  of  want  of  faith  in  God  in  regard  to  the  eflfi- 
cacy  of  prayer.  It  is  often  said  that  requests  may  not  be 
granted  in  the  precise  form  in  which  they  were  oflfered, 
but  that  they  are  always  answered  in  some  way  or  other. 


§2  YOUNG    CHRISTIAJ?.  [Ch.    3 

The  boy  asking  for  a  knife.      Tbe  sick  man  unexpectedly  cured. 

A  mother,  for  instance,  who  has  a  son  at  sea,  prays  morn- 
ing and  evening  for  his  safe  return.  Letter  after  letter 
comes,  assuring  her  of  his  continued  safety,  until  at  last 
the  sad  news  arrives,  that  his  ship  has  been  dashed  upon 
a  rock  or  sunk  in  the  waves.  Now  can  it  be  said  that 
the  mother's  prayer  was  granted  ?  Suppose  that  she  was, 
by  this  afflicting  providence,  weaned  from  the  world  and 
prepared  for  heaven,  and  thus  inconceivably  benefited  by 
the  event.  Was  this,  in  any  common  or  correct  use  of 
language,  granting  the  request  in  another  form,  or  was 
it  denying  it  because  it  was  inconsistent  with  her  great- 
est good  ?  Suppose  a  child  asks  his  father  to  let  him  keep 
a  knife  he  has  found,  and  tlie  father  takes  it  away,  know- 
ing that  lie  Avill  probably  injure  himself  with  it.  Is  this 
granting  the  request  in  another  form  ?  No.  We  ought, 
whenever  the  particular  request  we  make  is  not  granted, 
to  consider  it  a  denial,  and  to  suppose  that  it  comes  under 
one  of  the  cases  of  exceptions  I  have  already  specified. 

There  is,  indeed,  such  a  thing  as  granting  a  request  in 
another  form  from  that  in  which  it  was  made.  A  family,  one 
of  whose  members  is  in  feeble  health,  prays  for  that  mem- 
ber, that  God  would  restore  him.  They  come  sincerely 
and  earnestly  to  the  throne  of  grace,  and  ask  God  to 
spare  his  life  and  make  him  well.  Instead  however  of 
growing  better,  he  grows  suddenly  worse.  He  is  attacked 
with  violent  sickness,  and  his  friends  tliink  that  their 
prayers  cannot  be  heard,  and  suppose  that  they  must  fol- 
low him  to  the  grave.  The  sickness  however  soon  passes 
away,  and  instead  of  carrying  him  to  the  tomb,  by  means 
of  some  mysterious  influence  which  is  in  such  cases  often 
exerted  upon  the  constitution,  he  rises  from  his  sick  bed 
with  renewed  bodily  powers,  and  as  his  strength  gradually 
returns,  he  finds  that  his  constitution  is  renewed  and 
health  entirely  restored.  Now  this  is  granting  the  re- 
quest, because  the  thing  requested,  that  is  the  restora- 
tion to  healtn,  is  obtained,  but  the  manner  was  unexpect- 


Ch.  3.]  PRAYfiiu  53 


Submissive  spirit.  Prayers  of  the  young. 


ed;  but  if  the  man  should  die,  no  matter  what  great  be- 
nefits to  all  resulted  from  his  death,  it  is  certainly  not 
right  to  say  that  the  request  was  granted  in  any  way.  It 
was  denied,  because  God  saw  it  was  best  that  it  should  be 
denied. 

Let  us  then  keep  constantly  in  view  the  fact,  that  our 
petitions  are  and  must  be  often  denied, — positively  and 
absolutely  refused.  The  language  which  our  Savior  uses, 
though  without  any  specified  exceptions,  contains  the  ex- 
ceptions that  in  all  human  language  are  in  all  such  cases 
implied.  The  feelings  however  which,  in  this  view  of 
the  subject,  we  ought  to  cherish,  may  properly  be  pre- 
sented under  the  following  head. 

II.  A  submissive  spirit  in  prayer.  We  ought  unques- 
tionably to  bring  a  great  many  requests  to  God,  relating 
to  our  daily  pursuits.  We  ought  to  express  to  him  our 
common  desires,  ask  success  in  our  common  enterprizes 
and  plans.  Young  persons,  it  seems  to  me,  ought  to  do 
this  far  more  than  they  do.  They  ought  to  bring  all  their 
little  interests  and  concerns,  morning  and  evening,  to  their 
Friend  above.  Whatever  interests  you,  as  I  have  already 
once  or  twice  remarked,  will  interest  him.  Bring  to  him 
freely  your  little  troubles  and  cares,  and  express  your 
wants.  If  the  young  cannot  come  to  God  with  their  own 
appropriate  and  peculiar  concerns,  th^y  are  in  reality 
without  a  protector.  If  however  we  are  in  the  habit  of 
bringing  all  our  wants  to  God,  we  shall  often  ask  for  some- 
thing which  it  is  far  better  for  us  not  to  have.  We  can- 
not always  judge  correctly ;  but  unless  we  know  that 
what  we  want  is  dangerous,  or  that  it  will  be  injurious, 
it  is  proper  to  ask  for  it.  If  we  do  or  might  know,  to  re- 
quest it  would  be  obviously  wrong.  David  prayed  very 
earnestly  that  his  child  might  live,  but  God  thought  it  not 
best  to  grant  the  petition.  David  did  right  to  pray,  for 
he  probably  did  not  know  but  that  the  request  might  be 
safely  granted.     Let  us  feel   therefore  when   we   come 


64  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    3. 

Deliverance  from  danger.  The  packet. 


with  o«r  petitions,  that  perhaps  God  will  think  it  best 
for  us  that  they  should  be  denied. 

This  is  peculiarly  the  case  in  praying  for  deliverance 
from  danger.  Our  hearts  may  be  relieved  and  lightened 
by  committing  ourselves  to  God's  care,  but  we  can  never 
feel  on  that  account  sure  that  we  are  safe.  God  very  often 
makes  sickness,  or  a  storm  at  sea,  or  the  lightning,  or  any 
other  source  of  common  danger  and  alarm,  the  means  of 
removing  a  Christian  from  the  world.  You  do  not  know 
but  that  he  will  remove  you  in  this  way.  The  next  time  a 
thunder  storm  arises  in  the  west,  it  may  be  God's  design 
to  bring  one  of  its  terrific  bolts  upon  your  head,  and  you 
cannot  of  course  avert  it  by  simply  asking  God  to  spare 
you.  He  will  listen  to  your  prayer,  take  it  into  kind 
consideration,  and  if  you  ask  in  a  proper  spirit,  he  will 
probably  give  you  a  calm  and  happy  heart,  even  in  the 
most  imminent  danger.  But  you  cannot  be  sure  you 
will  escape  the  lightning.  The  ground  of  your  peace 
must  be,  that  God  will  do  what  is  best,  not  that  he  will 
certdiinly  do  what  you  wish.  ■•      j 

From  one  of  the  small  sea-port  towns  of  New  England, 
a  packet  once  set  sail  for  Boston.  These  packets,  which 
are  intended  to  carry  passengers,  have  one  large  cabin. 
The  berths  (which  perhaps  I  ought  to  inform  some  of  my 
young  readers,  are  a  sort  of  shelves,  upon  which  passeri- 
gers  at  sea  sleep,  one  above  the  other)  are  arranged 
around  this  cabin,  and  a  moveable  partition,  which  can 
be  thrown  open  by  day,  divides  the  room  at  night  into 
two  parts.  On  board  one  of  these  packets  then,  a  few 
years  ago,  a  number  of  persons,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  pre- 
viously entire  strangers  to  each  other,  found  themselves 
slowly  sailing  out  of  an  eastern  harbor,  on  a  coasting  voy- 
age of  about  two  hundred  miles.  They  did  not  know  how 
long  they  were  to  be  together, — what  adventures  might 
befal  them,  or  what  dangers  they  might  share.  They 
were  however  to  spend  their  time  in  the  same  room,  and 


Ch.  3.]  PRAYER.  55 

The  calm.  The  Christian  traveler. 

as  they  were  tossing  upon  the  waves  in  the  same  vessel, 
a  sense  of  common  interest  and  of  common  danger 
brought  them  at  once  to  terms  of  intimacy. 

The  next  morning  there  Avas  scarcely  a  breath  of  air. 
The  vessel  heaved  gently  on  the  water,  whose  surface 
was  polished  like  glass,  though  it  swelled  and  sunk  with 
the  undulations  of  distant  storms.  In  the  tedium  of  wait- 
ing for  wind,  each  one  of  the  passengers  and  crew  amused 
himself  in  his  own  way.  Here  yon  might  see  a  cluster 
talking, — there  two  or  three  passengers  gathering  around 
a  sailor  who  was  letting  down  his  line  for  fish.  Others, 
in  various  places,  had  their  books. 

A  Christian  traveler  who  was  present,  sat  down  upon 
the  quarter  deck,  and  opened  a  little  bundle  of  books  and 
newspapers  and  tracts,  which  he  had  provided  for  the 
occasion. 

Presently  a  gentleman  who  had  hpen  sitting  for  half  an 
hour  gazing,  for  want  of  other  employinent,  upon  every 
sprig  of  sea-weed  or  floating  bubble  he  could  see,  ad- 
vanced to  him,  and  asked, 

"Will  you  lend  me  something  to  read  ?" 

"  Certainly,  sir,  any  thing  I  have  ;  but  most  of  my  stock 
here  is  of  a  religious  character,  and  I  do  not  know  whe- 
ther you  will  take  any  interest  in  it." 

The  gentleman  replied  that  he  should.  He  selected  a 
newspaper  or  a  tract,  took  his  seat  again,  and  began  to 
read.  Presently  a  lady  made  the  same  request ; — others 
looked  as  though  they  wished  to,  but  hesitated.  Our  tra- 
veler observing  this,  said  to  all  within  hearing, 

*'  If  others  of  the  company  would  like  any  thirg  I  have, 
I  should  be  happy  to  have  them  take  it.  I  always  carry 
a  supply  of  reading  when  I  travel,  though  I  select  my 
books,  perhaps  too  much  to.  suit  my  own  taste  alone. 
What  I  have  here  is  chiefly  of  a  religious  character,  and 
it  may  not  be  so  generally  interesting  on  that  account. 
You  are  heartily  welcome  to  any  of  these  however,  if  you 


66  YOUNG   CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  3. 


Books  and  tracts.     The  long  passage.     The  approaching  storm. 

please.  Sitting  here  with  nothing  to  do  is  rather  dull." 
The  books  and  tracts  were  soon  generally  in  circula- 
tion, the  passengers  were  nearly  all  busy  in  reading  them, 
and  the  time  passed  swiftly  away.  Our  traveler  became 
known  as  a  Christian  ;  and  were  I  now  upon  the  subject 
of  Christian  influence,  I  might  describe  many  interesting 
occurrences  which  took  place,  the  Christian  acquaintances 
which  he  formed,  and  the  conversations  which  he  had 
with  various  persons  on  board  the  vessel.  But  I  am  going 
so  much  into  detail  in  this  story,  that  I  fear  you  have 
almost  lost  sight  of  our  subject,  which  is  the  duty  of  pray- 
ing to  God  with  the  feeling  that  he  will,  after  all,  do  as 
he  pleases  about  granting  the  request.  I  must  hasten  to 
the  conclusion  of  my  story. 

The  passage  was  an  uncommonly  long  one.  They 
hoped  to  reach  their  port,  in  twn  days,  but  after  ten  had 
passed  away,  they  wpre  still  far  from  Boston,  night  was 
coming  on,  and  what  was  still  worse,  the  captain,  who 
stood  anxiously  at  the  helm,  said  there  were  signs  of  a 
terrific  storm.  A  dark  haze  extended  itself  over  the  whole 
southern  sky.  The  swell  of  the  sea  increased.  The  rising 
wind  moaned  in  most  melancholy  tones  through  the 
rigging.  The  captain  gave  orders  to  take  in  sail,  to  make 
every  thing  snug  about  the  vessel,  and  had  supper  pre- 
pared earlier  than  usual,  "  because,"  said  he,  "  1  expect, 
from  the  looks  of  the  sky  yonder,  that  an  hour  hence  you 
will  not  manage  a  cup  of  tea  very  handily." 

The  passengers  ate  their  supper  in  silence.  Their 
hearts  were  full  of  foreboding  fears.  The  captain  en- 
deavored to  encourage  them.  He  said  that  they  were  not 
far  from  Boston.  He  hoped  soon  to  see  the  light.  If  they 
could  make  out  to  get  into  the  harbor  before  it  began  to 
blow  very  hard,  they  should.be  safe.  "  Yes,"  said  he,  "  I  am 
in  hopes  to  land  you  all  safely  at  the  T  before  ten  o'clock.* 
Unless  we  can  get  fairly  into  the  harbor  however,  I  shall 
*  The  T,  a  noted  wharf  at  Boston. 


Oh.  3.]  PRAYEH,  57 

They  watch  the  light.  The  storm  increases. 

have  to  put  about  and  stand  out  to  sea ;  for  if  we  are  to  have 
a  storm,  we  must  not  stay  tossing  about  near  the  rocks." 

The  storm  increased.  Sail  after  sail  was  reefed  or  taken 
in,  but  still  the  spirits  of  the  company  were  sustained  by 
knowing  that  they  were  advancing  toward  Boston,  and 
by  the  hope  that  they  should  soon  stand  upon  the  firm 
shore.  So  great  however  was  the  pitching  and  rolling 
of  the  ship,  that  most  of  the  passengers  retreated  to  their 
berths  and  braced  themselves  there.  A  few  of  the  more 
hardy  or  experienced  remained  upon  deck,  clinging  to  the 
masts  or  to  the  rigging,  and  watching  with  intense  inte- 
rest the  distant  glimmering  of  the  Boston  light,  Avhich 
had  a  short  time  before  come  into  view. 

•'  We  are  not  very  far  from  the  light,"  said  the  captain, 
^'  but  it  blows  pretty  hard." 

"  Do  you  think  we  shall  get  in  T"  asked  a  passenger. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  he,  shaking  his  head,  "  it  is  a 
bad  night.     I  will  however  try  for  it." 

The  passengers  watched  the  light.  They  observed  that 
the  captain  did  not  like  to  talk  while  he  was  at  the  helm, 
and  they  forbore  to  ask  him  questions.  They  knew  that 
as  long  as  they  were  going  toward  the  light  there  was 
hope,  and  they  watched  it  therefore  with  a  very  eager  eye, 
Sometimes  the  ship  would  veer  a  little  from  her  course, 
and  as  the  light  moved  off  to  the  right  or  to  the  left,  the3/ 
were  filled  with  solicitude  lest  the  captain  was  going  to 
abandon  the  efix^rtand  put  out  again  to  sea. 

He  kept  however  steadily  on  another  half  hour,  thougl\ 
wind  and  wave  seemed  to  do  their  utmost  to  compel  him 
to  return.  The  light  grew  larger  and  brighter  as  they 
approached  it,  but  the  wind  increased  so  rapidly  that  the 
captain  seemed  much  perplexed  to  know,  what  to  do.  He 
put  the  helm  into  the  hands  of  a  sailor,  and  went  forward 
and  stood  there  looking  upon  the  dark  gloomy  horizon 
until  he  was  completely  drenched  with  the  spray.  In  a 
few  minutes  he  returned  suddenly. 

3* 


68  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    3- 

Going  about.  Splitting  of  the  topsail.  Danger. 

"  'Tis  of  no  use,"  said  he,  and  then  taking  the  helm 
again,  he  called  out  in  his  loudest  voice  to  the  sailors 
who  were  before,  which  however  the  roaring  of  the  waves 
almost  drowned, 

♦'Ready,  about." 

The  sailors  answered,  "  Ready." 

A  moment  after  the  captain's  voice  was  again  heard, 
in  the  loud  but  monotonous  tone  of  command, 

"  Helm's  a-lee." 

There  was  bustle  at  the  bows  of  the  ship.  A  great  sail 
flapped  in  the  wind  with  a  sound  of  thunder  ;  the  ropes 
rattled  ;  the  boom  swung  with  violence  across  the  deck  ; 
and  the  bow,  which  had  been  pointed  directly  to  the  light- 
house, their  only  star  of  hope,  now  swept  swiftly  around 
the  horizon,  until  it  left  it  behind  them.  The  vessel 
plunged  into  the  waves;  and  to  complete  this  scene  of 
terror,  a  loud  sound,  like  a  clap  of  rattling  thunder,  burst 
close  over  their  heads,  arousing  every  passenger  and  pro- 
ducing universal  alarm.  It  was  the  splitting  of  the  topsail. 

The  melancholy  intelligence  was  soon  spread  below, 
that  the  effort  to  reach  Boston  was  abandoned,  and  that 
they  were  now  standing  out  to  the  open  sea,  and  that  con- 
sequently they  must  be  all  night  exposed  unsheltered  to 
the  violence  of  the  storm.  Although  the  commotion  had 
been  already  enough  to  fill  the  passengers  with  fear,  yet 
to  an  eye  accustomed  to  the  ocean,  there  had  not  been 
any  real  danger.  But  real  danger  soon  came.  The  wind 
increased,  and  the  vessel  labored  so  much  in  struggling 
against  its  fury,  that  even  the  captain  thought  it  doubtful 
whether  they  should  ever  see  the  land. 

When  I  commenced  this  description  I  had  no  intention 
of  giving  so  full  a  narrative  of  the  circumstances  of  a 
storm  at  sea,  and  perhaps  my  reader  has  almost  forgot- 
ten what  is  my  subject,  and  for  what  purpose.  I  have  in- 
troduced this  incident.  My  design  was  to  illustrate  the 
feelings  with  which  prayer  ought  to  be  offered  in  danger. 


Ch.  3.]  PRAYER.  59 


Protection  never  certain.  Object  of  prayer  in  danger. 

and  I  wished  therefore  to  give  you  a  vivid  idea  of  a  situ- 
ation of  danger  on  the  deep.  Our  passengers  were  now 
in  imminent  danger.  They  were  all  in  tlieir  berths  below, 
for  so  violent  was  the  motion  of  the  vessel  that  it  was  not 
safe  to  attempt  to  stand.  The  wish  was  intimated  by 
some,  and  the  desire  soon  extended  to  all,  that  a  prayer 
should  be  offered,  and  they  looked  to  our  Christian  tra- 
veler to  express  their  petitions  at  the  throne  of  grace. 

Now  many  persons  may  have  such  conceptions  of  the 
nature  of  prayer  as  to  suppose  that  if  this  company  should 
now  sincerely  unite  in  commending  themselves  to  God's 
protection,  that  he  would  take  care  of  them,  and  that  they 
might  feel  perfectly  safe.  Many  cases  have  occurred  in 
which  Christians,  who  have  been  in  the  midst  of  danger, 
have  fled  to  Jehovah  for  protection,  and  have  had  their 
fears  immediately  quelled,  and  felt  a  calm  and  happy  as- 
surance that  God  would  bring  them  through  in  safety. 
But  such  an  assurance  is  not  well  grounded.  Are  real 
Cliristians  never  lost  at  sea  ?  Do  real  Christians  who  on 
their  sick  beds  pray  that  God  will  restore  them  to  health, 
never  die?  Is  a  Christian  who,  on  commencing  a  journey 
asks  divine  protection,  never  overturned  in  a  coach?  Is 
the  family  which  always  asks,  in  its  evening  prayer,  that 
God  will  grant  them  quiet  repose,  never  called  up  by  the 
sudden  sickness  of  a  child,  or  aroused  at  midnight  by  a 
cry  of  fire  ?  Facts  universally  testify  that  God  does  not 
grant  every  request.  He  reserves  to  himself  the  right, 
after  hearing  the  petition,  to  grant  or  to  deny,  as  may 
seem  best  to  him. 

Then  you  will  say,  what  good  does  it  do  to  pray  to  God 
in  danger,  if  we  can  have  no  assurance  that  we  shall  be 
safe  ?  It  does  great  good.  You  cannot  be  sure  that  you 
will  be  certainly  preserved  from  that  danger^  but  you  can 
rest  calmly  and  peacefully  in  the  assurance  that  God  will 
do  what  is  on  the  whole  for  the  best.  "  And  will  this  feel- 
mg,"  you  ask,  "  enable  any  one  to  rest  in  peace  while 


60  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch    3. 


Socrates.  His  peace  of  mind. 


he  is  out  at  sea  in  a  storm,  and  in  danger  every  moment 
of  sinking?"  Yes  it  will,  if  fully  possessed.  If  we  could 
feel  assured  that  God  was  our  friend,  and  if  we  had  entire 
confidence  in  him,  no  danger  would  terrify  us  ;  we  should 
be  calm  and  happy  in  all  situations.  Christians  have  very 
often  been  calm  and  happy  when  not  danger  merely 
but  certain  death  was  approaching,  so  strong  has  been 
their  confidence  in  God.  Even  Socrates,  who  had  no  re- 
velation to  guide  him,  and  to  whom  the  future  must  have 
been  consequently  very  dark  and  uncertain,  even  he  met 
his  fate  not  merely  with  fortitude,  but  with  calmness  and 
peace,  through  the  trust  he  reposed  in  his  heavenly  Pro- 
tector. 

He  was  in  a  cold  dungeon,  where  his  enemies  had  im- 
prisoned him  from  jealousy  of  his  extensive  influence  in 
behalf  of  virtue.  He  had  been  condemned  to  die,  and  in 
a  few  days  the  cup  of  poison  was  to  be  given  him  to 
drink.  His  wife  came  to  his  prison  to  bid  him  farewell , 
but  she  was  fo  overwhelmed  with  agitation  and  sorrow 
that  she  could  not  remain.  His  other  friends  were  around 
him  in  tears, — but  he  was  all  the  time  unmoved.  He  talked 
of  the  principles  of  duty,  and  of  his  hopes  of  a  happy 
immortality  after  the  poison  should  have  done  its  work. 
Presently  they  brought  him  the  fatal  cup.  His  friends  were 
overwhelmed  with  the  most  agitating  sorrow, — but  he 
did  not  fear.  He  seemed  to  confide  in  divine  protection, 
and  took  the  poison  from  the  jailor's  hands  and  drank  it 
all.  He  walked  about  a  little  while,  and  then  laid  down 
upon  his  bed  and  died  with  apparent  resignation.  And 
shall  a  Christian,  who  knows  the  affection  of  his  heavenly 
Father,  and  who  knows  that  there  is  a  future  world  of 
peace  and  joy,  shall  he  refuse  to  be  calm  in  danger,  unless 
he  can  first  be  sure  that  he  shall  certainly  be  preserved 
uninjured  ?  No.  When  we  ask  God's  protection  in  danger, 
we  may,  in  all  ordinary  cases,  expect  protection.  He  has 
promised  to  grant  our  requests,  unless  special  reasons 


Ch.  3.]  PRAYER.  61 


True  composure  in  danger.  The  prayer. 

prevent.  Now  as  we  may  not  know  what  these  special 
reasons  are,  we  cannot  be  certain  of  security,  and  conse- 
quently the  foundation  of  our  peace  and  happiness  at  such 
times  must  be,  not  the  belief  that  we  are  certainly  safe, 
but  a  calm  and  happy  acquiescence  in  God's  will.  Not  a 
sparrow  falls  to  the  ground  without  his  knowledge — still 
sparrows  often  do  fall.  All  that  we  can  be  absolutely  cer- 
tain of  is,  that  whatever  happens  to  us  will  come  with  the 
knowledge  and  permission  of  our  best  and  greatest  Friend 
— and  every  calamity  which  comes  in  this  way,  we  ought 
to  be  willing  to  meet. 

But  to  return  to  our  ship.  The  passengers  were  all 
below.  It  was  no  longer  safe  for  them  to  attempt  to  stand 
in  any  part  of  the  vessel,  and  the  Christian  traveler,  look- 
ing out  from  the  berth  to  which  he  had  retreated,  called 
upon  God  to  save  them  from  their  common  danger.  What 
prayer  he  offered  I  do  not  know.  I  learned  the  circum- 
stances of  the  danger  of  this  packet,  first  from  a  father 
on  shore  who  was  waiting  the  arrival  of  his  boy  who 
was  on  board  when  the  storm  came  on,  and  afterward 
from  several  of  the  passengers  when  they  had  all  safely 
reached  the  land.  I  do  not  therefore  know  what  the  prayer 
was,  but  that  I  may  the  more  distinctly  convey  to  my 
young  readers  an  idea  of  the  spirit  with  which  prayer 
in  danger  should  be  offered,  I  will  write  one  which,  it 
seems  to  me,  might  with  propriety,  on  such  an  occasion, 
be  offered.  Let  us  imagine  then  that  the  terrified  passen- 
gers in  their  various  berths  in  the  dark  cabin  listen  and 
hear,  as  well  as  the  howling  of  the  tempest  and  the  roar- 
ing of  the  waves  will  permit,  the  following  petition,  in 
which  they  endeavor  cordially  to  join  : 

"  Almighty  God,  thou  hast  promised  to  be  with  two  or  three 
who  unite  to  call  upon  thee,  wherever  they  are ;  we  come 
therefore  with  full  confidence  that  thou  art  with  us  now,  and 
that  thou,  who  dost  rule  wind  and  waves,  art  really  present,  to 
hear  what  we  have  to  say  as  we  come  before  thee. 

"  Grant,  Holy  Spirit,  that  all  of  us  who  are  now  present,  ex- 


YOUNG   CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  3. 


The  prayer  at  sea.  Effects. 

posed  to  this  danger,  may  come  with  our  whole  hearts  to  thee. 
When  in  health  and  safety  we  break  thy  commands  and  ne- 
glect our  duty,  and  then  when  danger  comes,  and  no  arm  but 
thine  can  help,  we  are  ashamed  and  afraid  to  come  to  thee. 
But  O,  our  Father,  let  not  one  of  us  hesitate  now.  We  thank 
tliee  for  teaching  us,  by  so  irresistible  a  proof,  how  dependant 
we  are  upon  thee.  May  we  all  be  willing  to  learn  the  lesson, 
and  may  v/e  bow  humbly  before  thee  now,  even  if  we  have 
never  bowed  before. 

"We  come  to  ask  that  thou  wilt  protect  us  in  this  danger, 
and  bring  us  safely  to  our  homes.  Thou  canst  protect  from 
greater  dangers  than  these.  Wilt  thou  protect  us.  Save  us 
from  finding  our  watery  grave  here  in  the  deep,  and  save  our 
beloved  parents  and  brothers,  and  sisters,  at  home,  from  the 
anxiety  they  must  even  now  feel,  and  from  the  anguish  such 
tidings  of  our  destruction  must  give.  Almighty  Father,  save 
us,  we  pray  thee. 

"  Nevertheless,  not  our  will  but  thine  be  done.  We  see  but  a 
part,  and  thou  secst  the  whole.  If  thou  seest  it  to  be  best  that 
we  should  go  down  here  to  a  watery  grave,  we  would  acqui- 
esce in  thy  will.  We  have  solemnly  given  ourselves  to  thee, 
and  chosen  thee  for  our  portion.  We  have,  if  we  love  thee  at 
all,  committed  ourselves  to  thy  care  and  to  thy  disposal.  We 
have  rejoiced  in  this  dependence  upon  thee  when  we  have 
been  in  health  and  safety,  and  we  will  not  shrink  from  our  co- 
venant to  be  thine,  now  we  are  in  danger.  Do  with  us  <\s 
seemeth  good  in  thy  sight,  only  give  to  us  all  a  calm  and  happy 
acquiescence  in  thy  will.  Pardon  our  sins,  so  that  we  may  be 
at  peace  with  thee  ;  and  whether  we  are  to  live  or  die,  may  our 
hearts  be  thine,  through   Christ,  our  Redemer*  Amen." 

Such  may  have  been  the  spirit  of  the  prayer.  Such  I 
presume  was  the  spirit  of  the  petition  offered  on  this  oc- 
casion. Every  heart  which  will  sincerely  offer  such  a 
prayer  when  in  danger,  will  feel  relieved  from  its  solici- 
tude and  fear.  I  am  aware  that  in  a  case  of  imminent  ex- 
posure of  life,  the  terror  excited  is  often  a  physical  feeling 
which  moral  causes  will  not  fully  control.  Still  this  calm 
acquiescence  in  God's  superior  wisdom  and  power  will 
do  more  than  any  other  feeling  can  to  produce  peace. 


Ch.  3.]  PRAYER.  63 

Sincerity  of  prayer.     Ardor  in  prayer.     All  can  pray  who  like  to. 

III.  Sincerity  of  prayer.  Prayer  is,  in  all  ordinary 
cases,  and  it  ought  to  be,  a  calm  and  peaceful  exercise, 
not  an  agitating  one.  Many  persons  wait  the  hour  of 
prayer  in  trying  to  feel  some  deep  agitation,  imagining 
that  sincere  and  acceptable  prayer  cannot  be  offered  with- 
out it.  You  must  be  sincere  when  you  pray,  but  you  may 
be  calm.  Read  our  Savior's  model  of  prayer — "  Our  Fa- 
ther who  art  in  heaven,  hallowed  be  thy  name.  Thy 
kingdom  come ;  thy  will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is  in  hea- 
ven. Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread,  &c."  What  a 
peaceful,  quiet  spirit  it  breathes !  The  great  question  in 
regard  to  your  prayer  being  acceptable  is  this :  Do  you 
wish  for  any  thing  which  )'ou  know  no  one  but  God  can 
grant,  and  are  you  willing  to  ask  him  in  the  name  of  Jesus 
Christ  ?  If  so,  come  at  once  and  ask  him.  Ask  with  that 
degree  of  feeling  which  your  interest  in  the  request 
prompts,  and  no  more.  If  you  wish  to  increase  your  feel- 
ing, you  cannot  do  it  in  any  way,  except  by  increasing 
your  interest  in  the  request.  You  may  give  additional 
vividness  to  your  idea  of  the  value  of  the  object  sought. 
by  thinking  of  it,  and  considering  how  great  a  bless- 
ing it  would  be  to  you  if  granted,  and  thus  you  may 
increase  your  ardor  in  prayer.  But  all  direct  attempts 
to  produce  this  ardor  by  effort  will  fail ;  or  if  they  suc- 
ceed in  producing  some  sort  of  excitement,  it  is  not  a 
healthy,  acceptable  interest  in  prayer. 

Now,  after  this  explanation,  those  who  read  this  can 
easily  tell  whether  they  are  prepared  to  offer,  this  night, 
acceptable  prayer  to  God.  Do  you  wish  to  have  God  take 
care  of  you  while  you  sleep  ?  I  do  not  mean,  do  you  wish 
to  be  safe — every  body  wishes  to  be  safe  ;  but  do  you  wish 
to  have  God  at  your  bedside^  protecting  you  ?  If  you  do 
not,  if  the  feeling  of  his  presence  would  be  a  burden  to 
you  and  a  restraint,  of  course  you  will  not  ask  him  to 
come.  But  suppose  you  are  desirous  of  having  him  pre- 
sent, are  you  then  willing  to  ask  him  ?     I  do  not  inquire 


64  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    3. 

Right  spirit  of  prayer.  Difficulty. 

whether  you  are  willing  to  struggle  a  long  time  with  your 
heart  to  awaken  deep  feeling  enough  to  justify,  in  your 
opinion,  coming  to  God.  Are  you  willing,  as  you  retire 
to  rest  to-night,  to  breathe  a  short  and  simple  petition  to 
God  to  come  and  be  your  friend  and  protector  for  the 
night,  to  acknowledge  that  you  do  not  deserve  his  pro- 
tection, and  that  you  ask  it  inthe  name  of  Jesus  Christ? 
If  you  are  willing  to  do  tliis,  and  if  you  actually  do  it,  and 
if  you  ask  with  that  degree  of  feeling  which  your  sincere 
desire  for  God's  protection  prompts,  you  may  lie  down 
in  peace,  sure  that  you  have  offered  acceptable  prayer. 

But  here  I  must  mention  a  difficulty  which  many  and 
many  a  time  has  been  brought  to  me  by  serious-minded 
persons  who  wish  to  pray  to  God,  but  who  think  they 
should  not  pray  aright.  I  presume  this  difficulty  has 
occurred  to  many  who  will  read  this  chapter,  I  fancy 
I  can  perceive  thoughts  like  these  passing  through  the 
mind  of  some  thoughtful  conscientious  one,  who  has 
taken  up  this  book  honestly  desiring  to  find  in  it  reli- 
gious instruction. 

"  If  I  understand  the  author  right,  he  says,  that  if  I  to- 
night pray  to  God  to  protect  me,  just  because  I  want  pro- 
tection, or  rather  because  I  want  his  protection,  that  will 
be  acceptable  prayer.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  that  would 
be  mere  selfishness.  I  wish  for  a  great  many  things  which 
I  know  none  but  God  can  grant,  but  I  ask  them  only  be- 
cause I  feel  the  need  of  them,  it  is  only  a  selfish  desire 
for  my  own  happiness,  and  I  cannot  expect  to  be  heard. 
I  should  like  such  a  friend  as  Jesus  Christ,  that  I  might 
come  to  him  in  all  my  trials  and  troubles,  and  might  seek 
strength  from  him  in  temptation.  But  then  this  is  all  love 
of  my  own  happiness.  I  cannot  be  happy  in  sin  ; — there  is  a 
foreboding  and  a  burden  from  which  I  wish  to  be  reliev- 
ed. But  unless  I  have  a  higher  motive  than  a  wish  to 
obtain  peace  and  happiness  myself,  I  cannot  expect  to  be 
heard," 


Ch.  3.]  PRAYER.  65 

Reply.  Invitation  to  the  weary.  The  prodigal. 

I  have  no  doubt  there  are  multitudes  who  are  substan- 
tially in  this  state  of  mind.  They  are  deterred  by  this  dif- 
ficulty from  coming  cordially  to  their  great  Friend  above. 
I  have  stated  the  difficulty  as  distinctly  and  fully  as  I  can, 
adopting  as  nearly  as  possible  the  words  in  which  it  has 
often  been  presented  to  me.  I  hope  you  will  attend 
carefully  to  my  reply,  and  if  it  is  satisfactory  now,  lay  it 
up  in  your  memories,  and  never  be  embarrassed  by  this 
difficulty  again. 

My  reply  is  substantially  this — that  a  desire  for  the 
peace  and  happiness  of  piety  is  a  perfectly  proper  motive 
for  coming  to  God.  It  is  the  motive  which  the  Bible 
every  where  presents.  It  is  not,  in  any  proper  sense  of 
the  term,  selfishness. 

First,  I  say  it  is  a  perfectly  proper  motive.  God  is  our 
great  Creator  and  Protector,  and  he  made  us  weak  and 
dependant,  but  desirous  of  peace  and  happiness,  for  the 
very  purpose  of  having  us  look  to  him  for  it.  He  never 
intended  to  make  a  universe  of  stoics,  in  which  each  one 
should  be  entirely  indifferent  about  his  own  happiness. 
The  spectacle  which  he  wishes  to  see  is  all  happy,  and 
all  happy  in  him.  He  wishes  us  to  desire  and  seek  his 
happiness,  and  to  come  to  him  for  it. 

Again,  I  say  that  the  Bible  every  where  presents  the 
peace  and  happiness  of  piety  as  the  motive  why  we  should 
seek  it.  Jesus  stood  and  cried  in  a  great  concourse  of 
people,  "  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy- 
laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest."  How  strange  that  any- 
one can  imagine  after  this,  that  a  love  of  rest  and  a  de- 
sire to  be  relieved  of  burden,  is  not  a  proper  motive  for 
corning  to  Jesus  Christ !  The  prodigal  son,  perhaps  the 
most  striking  and  complete  emblem  of  the  penitent  sin- 
ner which  the  Bible  contains,  says,  "  How  many  hired 
servants  of  my  father  have  bread  enough  and  to  spare, 
while  I  perish  with  hunger !  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my 
father."  Who  would  think,  after  reading  this  parable,  that 


66  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [CIl    3. 


A  nobleman.  The  desk. 

any  sinner  would  be  afraid  to  come  to  the  Savior  because 
his  motive  is  to  have  his  wants  supplied  ?  Look  at  the 
thousands  who  came  to  our  Savior  to  be  healed  of  their 
diseases,  or  to  be  rescued  from  some  suffering.  Did  he 
ever  turn  them  away  because  they  came  for  their  own  be- 
nefit ?  A  nobleman  came  once.  His  son  was  at  the  point 
of  death.  Parental  affection  urged  him  on.  He  came  and 
begged  the  Savior  to  come  and  save  his  son.  He  was  so 
far  from  being  under  the  influence  of  any  high  philoso- 
phical notions  of  faith  and  disinterestedness,  that  when 
the  Savior  began  to  speak  of  faith  and  the  influence  of 
miracles  upon  it,  he  almost  interrupted  him  by  saying, 
*'  Come  down,  ere  my  child  die."  And  did  the  Savior  re- 
pulse him,  and  say  he  was  influenced  by  wrong  motives  ? 
It  was  not  a  wrong  motive.  He  wanted  happiness,  and 
he  was  willing  to  come  to  Jesus  Christ  for  it.  And  God 
wishes  to  see  the  whole  human  race  eager  for  the  pure 
joys  of  piety,  and  flocking  around  his  throne  to  obtain 
them.  O,  if  any  of  you  are  weary  with  the  burden  of  sin, 
and  long  for  the  peace  and  happiness  of  piety,  come 
boldly  for  it.  Never  fear  that  God  will,  call  it  selfishness, 
and  drive  you  away. 

Once  more  ;  I  said  this  could  not  be  called  selfishness; 
desiring  the  happiness  of  virtue,  and  taking  the  proper 
measures  to  preserve  it,  never  is  called  selfishness,  except 
by  persons  lost  in  the  mazes  of  metaphysics.  Suppose 
two  children,  whose  parents  had  taught  them  habits  of 
regularity  and  order  so  fully  that  they  take  pleasure 
in  the  systematic  arrangement  of  all  their  little  property, 
come  and  ask  their  father  to  let  them  have  a  large  desk 
which  stands  useless  in  the  garret,  to  bring  to  their  little 
room,  as  a  place  of  deposit  for  their  books,  and  papers, 
and  toys.  Suppose  now  he  should  inquire  of  the  boys, 
and  should  find  that  they  have  planned  the  disposal  of 
their  effects  exactly  in  the  shelves  and  drawers  of  the 
desk,  and  are  anticipating  much  enjoyment  from  the  ex- 


Ch.  3.]  PRAYER.  67 

The  father's  refusal.  Real  selfishness. 

pected  acquisition.  He  sees  their  countenances  bright- 
ened with  animation  as  they  wait  breathlessly  to  catch 
his  answer,  and  then  to  fly  away  and  commence  the  re- 
moval. Now  suppose  the  father  should  stop  them  by 
such  absurd  words  as  these : 

'*  My  boys,  I  am  very  sorry  to  find  that  you  are  so 
selfish.  I  strongly  suspect  that  the  reason  why  you  want 
that  desk  is  because  you  expect  some  pleasure  from  it. 
Perhaps  you  think  you  will  enjoy  your  property  more 
by  seeing  it  well  arranged  in  such  a  good  store-house,  or 
perhaps  you  think  you  can  spend  rainy  afternoons  in 
your  room  more  pleasantly  if  you  have  it.  Now  that  is 
very  wrong  ;  that  is  selfishness.  To  desire  any  thing  for 
the  sake  of  the  happiness  which  it  affords  is  selfishness. 
Unless  you  can  ask  for  some  better  motive  than  that,  I 
cannot  grant  your  requests." 

I  do  not  think  that  any  gravity  of  countenance  which 
could  be  assumed  would  lead  the  boys  to  imagine  that 
their  father  could  be  serious  in  this.  Certainly  no  parent 
would  ever  say  it ;  and  if  earthly  parents  know  how  to 
give  good  gifts  to  their  children,  how  much  more  shall 
your  heavenly  Father  give  his  holy  Spirit  to  them  that 
ask  him  ?  that  is,  to  them  that  ask  him  for  it  as  a  good 
gifty — something  which  is  to  do  good  to  them. 

But  what  is  selfishness  ?  Why,  if  the  desk,  instead  of 
lying  useless  in  the  garret,  was  used  by  the  older  bro- 
thers, and  the  younger  wished  to  take  it  away,  that  would 
be  selfishness.  A  disposition  to  encroach  upon  the  rights 
and  enjoyments  of  others  in  order  to  secure  our  own,  is 
selfishness  ;  and  v/e  must  not  come  to  God  with  this  spi- 
rit. If  any  one  however  desires  peace  and  happiness,  and 
is  satisfied  that  God  only  can  give  it,  let  him  come  and 
ask.  "  Ho,  every  one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  wa- 
ters." God  never  will  repulse  you,  because  thirst  urges 
you  to  come.  " 

It  is  a  very  common  impression  among  young  persons, 


68  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Cll.    3. 

Prayer  of  faith.  The  morning  prayer  meeting. 

and  perhaps  some  of  mature  minds  are  not  entirely  free 
from  the  same  perplexity,  that  in  order  to  render  prayer 
acceptable,  the  Christian  must  have  a  full  belief  that  his 
request  will  be  granted.  This  is  called  the  prayer  of  faith. 
Hence  many  persons  when  they  strongly  desire  some  spi- 
ritual blessing  for  themselves  or  others,  make  a  great 
deal  of  effort,  when  they  pray  for  it,  to  believe  that  they 
shall  receive  it.  Come  with  me  to  the  morning  prayer 
meeting.  A  i'ew  Christians  whose  duties  of  business  press 
upon  them  during  the  day,  assemble  by  the  gray  light  of 
the  dawn  around  the  early  fire  of  some  Christian  neigh- 
bor. They  read  and  reflect  a  moment  upon  a  few  verses 
of  the  Bible.  They  sing  a  hymn,  and  are  just  about  to  kneel 
before  God  to  unite  in  prayer  for  his  blessing  upon  them- 
selves and  upon  their  families  and  neighbors  during  the 
day,  when  perhaps  one  of  the  number  addresses  the 
meeting  as  follows  : 

"  My  brethren,  we  come  this  morning  to  ask  great  bless- 
ings, but  we  must  have  faith,  or  we  cannot  expect  that 
Ood  will  hear  us.  He  has  promised  to  hear  us,  and  to  give 
us  whatever  we  ask,  believing.  Let  us  believe  then  firmly 
and  cordially  that  God  will  hear  us.  And  let  us  ask  for 
great  blessings.  God  is  ready  to  give  us  the  greatest,  if 
we  only  have  faith." 

They  then  unite  in  prayer,  and  there  kneels  with  them, 
in  a  corner  of  the  room,  unnoticed  perhaps  by  all  but 
God,  a  young  disciple  who  has  hesitatingly  asked  of  the 
master  of  the  house  permission  to  enjoy  the  privilege 
of  joining  that  circle  of  prayer.  She  understands  the 
exhortation  which  was  given  to  mean,  that  she  must  fully 
believe  that  the  blessings  to  be  asked  will  certainly  be 
granted.  She  tries  therefore,  as  she  listens  to  the  words 
of  the  prayer,  to  believe  this.  Perhaps  the  first  request 
is  that  God  would  pour  out  his  Spirit  upon  all  present, 
and  purify  them,  and  keep  them  that  day  devoted  to  his 
service  and  free  from  all  sin.  Now  she  thinks  it  right  to 


Ch.  3.]  PRAYER. 


Prayer  for  a  revival.  Difficulty. 


pray  for  this ;  she  sincerely  desires  it,  but  she  cannot 
really  believe  that  it  will  be  fully  granted.  Then  she  re- 
proves herself  for  her  unbelief;  that  is,  forthe  feeling  that 
it  is  not  probable  that  all  present  will  be  perfectly  pure 
and  holy  during  that  day.  She  struggles  against  this 
feeling,  but  she  cannot  conquer  it.  Belief  rests  on  evi- 
dence, not  on  determination. 

The  next  petition  is  for  a  powerful  revival  of  pure  re- 
ligion in  that  neighborhood  ;  that,  by  a  divine  influence 
exerted  over  their  hearts,  Christians  may  be  led  to  love 
their  Maker  more  and  to  serve  hrm  better  ;  and  that  those 
who  are  living  in  sin  may  universally  be  awakened  to  a 
conviction  of  their  guilt  and  danger,  and  be  persuaded  to 
serve  Jehovah.  Now  our  young  Christian  sincerely  de- 
sires this, — she  hopes  for  it, — but  she  is  distressed  be- 
cause she  cannot  cordially  believe  that  it  will  certainly 
come,  and  she  considers  this  feeling  a  want  of  faith.  She 
rises  from  her  posture  of  devotion  anxious  and  unhappy, 
because  she  does  not  feel  absolutely  sure  that  what  she 
has  asked  is  on  the  whole  for  the  best,  and  that  it  will 
certainly  be  granted. 

Now  all  her  difficulty  arises  from  misunderstanding 
the  nature  of  the  faith  which  ought  to  be  exercised  in 
prayer.  The  remarks  made  meant,  or  they  ought  to  have 
meant,  that  we  are  to  come  to  God  confident  that  he  will 
do  what  is  on  the  whole  for  the  best, — not  positive  that  he 
will  do  exactly  lohat  we  ask.  God  never  has  given  assem- 
blies of  Christians  authority  to  mark  out  a  course  for  him 
to  pursue,  in  such  a  sense  as  that  he  shall  be  bound  to 
pursue  it.  He  has  promised  to  give  us  what  we  ask ;  but 
still  the  exceptions,  universally  understood  to  be  implied 
by  this  language  in  other  cases,  are  attached  to  it  in  this. 
We  must  offer  our  petitions,  trusting  in  God, — believing, 
as  the  Bible  expresses  it,  that  he  is,  and  that  he  is  the  re- 
warder  of  them  that  diligently  seek  him;  but  after  we 
have  offered  our  most  earnest  requests,  we  must  leave 


70 

YOUNG    CHRISTIAN. 

[Ch.  3. 

God  decides. 

The  mother. 

the  matter  witli  him.  This  is  what  is  mea/  t  by  the  prayer 
of  faith,  so  often  alluded  to  by  Christiai  ministers.  And 
tliis  was  the  kind  of  faith  our  Savior  required  of  those  who 
came  to  him  to  be  healed.  "  Believest  thou,"  said  he,  "  that 
I  am  ahle  to  do  this  ?"  not  that  I  shall  do  it.  When  the 
apostles  and  brethren  came  together  to  pray  for  Peter, 
they  were  so  far  from  believing  that  their  prayer  for  his 
deliverance  would  be  granted,  that  they  were  incredu- 
lous when  they  saw  him.  They  trusted  in  God,  and  be- 
lieved that  he  would  do  what  was  right.  This  confidence 
in  him  was  the  faith  they  exercised.  Believing  that  ye 
shall  receive  them,  then,  must  mean — believing  that  God 
is  able  and  willing  to  grant,  except  in  those  few  cases 
where  imperious  reasons  compel  him  to  deny.  He  sees 
many  material  considerations  in  every  case  which  are 
entirely  beyond  our  view,  and  \\c  must  leave  him  to 
decide. 

It  is  very  often  said  that  pidiyer  (or  spiritual  blessings 
\vill  always  be  heard  and  granted.  But  we  can  be  no  more 
absolutely  certain  in  this  case  than  in  others.  God  does 
often  withiiold  the  influences  of  his  Spirit,  as  we  all  know 
full  well.  Who  of  us  can  tell  what  are  the  causes?  Look 
at  yonder  mother.  She  has  an  only  son.  Her  first  prayer 
in  regard  to  him  was  that  God  would  make  him  his.  She 
consecrated  him  to  his  Maker's  service  at  his  earliest 
breath.  She  rocked  him  to  sleep  in  infancy,  singing  a 
hymn  of  acknowledgment  that  he  was  the  Lord's.  As 
soon  as  he  could  understand  the  lesson,  she  taught  him 
his  duty  to  his  great  Creator.  Slie  has  often  knelt  with 
him  in  prayer,  and  her  whole  heart  is  set  upon  having 
her  only  son  devoted  to  tlie  service  of  God.  But  all  her 
efforts  are  fruitless,  and  her  prayers  are  not  answered. 
Her  son  grows  up  in  indifference  about  God,  which  per- 
haps becomes,  when  he  has  arrived  at  maturity,  open  hos- 
tility. How  many  such  mothers  there  are  !  She  was  pray- 
ing too  for  spiritual  blessings,  for  the  conversion  of  a  son 


Ch.  3.]  PRAYER.  71 

God  decides.  A  favorable  answer  to  prayer  never  certain. 

to  God,  but  the  sovereign  Ruler  leaves  him,  notwithstand- 
ing these  supplications,  to  his  own  chosen  way. 

Yes  God  is  a  Sovereign.  He  dispenses  all  his  favors 
as  he  himself  thinks  best.  He  listens  to  our  requests, 
and  takes  them  into  kind  consideration,  but  he  reserves 
to  himself  tlie  right  to  make  the  ultimate  decision.  Let 
us  come  to  him  then  with  real  sincerity,  and  with  a  deep 
sense  of  our  need  of  the  blessings  we  ask,  but  always 
with  this  humble  feeling,  that  God  sees  farther  than  we, 
and  can  judge  better, — and  that  he  will  himself  make  the 
ultimate  decision  in  regard  to  every  thing  we  ask. 

And  we  must  remember  that  this  is  just  as  true  with 
regard  to  spiritual  blessings  as  to  any  other.  The  cause 
of  religion  advances  in  the  world  in  a  manner  which  we 
cannot  predict  or  account  for.  I  do  not  pretend  to  say 
precisely  how  far  and  in  what  respects  this  progress  de- 
pends upon  the  agency  of  man,  and  how  far  upon  power 
which  is  in  the  hands  of  God.  But  every  one,  whatever 
may  be  his  ideas  of  the  boundlessness  of  human  freedom, 
acknowledges  that  a  most  important  agency  in  determin- 
ing where  the  Gospel  shall  triumph  and  where  it  shall  fail, 
and  in  regulating  its  progress  throughout  the  earth,  rests 
in  the  hands  of  the  Supreme.  Now  what  Christian  is 
there  who  can  understand  the  principles  which  guide  Je- 
hovah in  the  exercise  of  the  power  which  he  so  obviously 
possesses  ?  How  many  secretly  think  that  the  sudden 
conversion  of  a  whole  city,  perhaps,  to  God  would  be  a 
glorious  achievement  of  the  Redeemer,  and  fancy  that  if 
they  had  the  pov/er  over  the  heart  which  God  possesses, 
they  would  produce  the  effect  at  once,  and  exhibit  the 
magnificent  spectacle  of  the  undisputed  reign  of  holiness 
and  peace  in  a  community  of  one  hundred  thousand.  Sup- 
pose now  every  Christian  in  some  gr^at  city  were  to 
unite  in  a  sincere  and  heartfelt  prayer  that  God  would 
pour  out  his  Spirit  universally  among  them,  and  in  a  sin- 
gle day  awaken  all  the  multitudes  around  them  to  piety. 


72  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN'.  [Ch.  3. 

Submissive  spirit.  Prayers  for  the  young. 

It  is  indeed  unquestionably  true,  that  if  this  united  prayer 
should  be  offered,  and  should  be  accompanied  by  the  ef- 
forts which  sincerity  in  the  prayer  would  insure,  most 
uncommon  effects  would  follow.  But  who  believes  that 
the  whole  £ity  would  be  converted  in  a  day?  No  one. 
Why  ?  Because  this  is  not  according  to  the  analogy  of 
God's  working  in  spreading  the  Gospel.  And  why  does 
he  not  work  in  this  way,  converting  whole  communities 
at  once,  leading  them  to  him  by  his  own  direct  agency 
upon  the  heart,  as  he  now  often  leads  individuals  in  si- 
lence and  solitude  ?  Why  does  not  God  work  in  this 
manner  ?  Some  one  may  say,  because  Christians  are  so 
cold  and  negligent  in  duty.  Why  then  docs  not  the  power 
which  raised  up  Paul,  raise  up  thousands  like  him  now,  and 
enkindling  within  them  the  spirit  and  devotedness  of  the 
great  apostle,  send  them  forth  to  bring  the  world  at  once 
to  him?— Who  can  tell? 

No  :  we  cannot  direct.  God  guides  by  his  own  wis- 
dom the  chariot  of  his  coming.  We  can  ask,  but  we  can- 
not dictate.  If  we  attempt  to  take  the  reins,  he  holds 
them  up  far  above  our  reach,  and  the  wheels  roll  on 
where  God  points  the  way. 

The  experienced  Christian  who  reads  these  remarks, 
intended  to  show  that  God  really  controls  and  directs 
every  thing  relating  to  the  progress  of  piety  in  the  world, 
will  immediately  say,  "  How  liable  are  we  to  pervert  this 
truth,  so  as  to  excuse  our  own  neglect  of  duty."  Yes,  it 
is  so.  Men  are  every  where  so  prone  to  throw  off  respon- 
sibility from  themselves,  that  the  minister  of  the  Gospel 
is  often  almost  afraid  to  prescribe  fully  and  cordially  God's 
supreme  power  over  the  heart,  for  fear  that  men  will  lose 
their  sense  of  their  own  accountability.  A  mother  will  ask 
that  God  will  change  the  hearts  of  her  children,  and  some- 
times wait,  as  she  expresses  it,  for  God's  time  to  come, 
while  she  in  the  meantime  does  nothing,  or  at  most  she 
goes  over  the  same  formal  round  of  duties,  without  any 


Ch.  3.]  PRAYER.  73 

Danger  of  perversion.  The  humble  yet  active  teacher. 

of  that  spirit,  and  enterprise,  and  ingenuity  which  she 
would  exercise  if  she  knew  that  something  depended 
upon  her  own  eflbrts.  But  this  perversion  of  scripture 
truth  is  not  necessary  or  unavoidable.  However  difficult 
it  may  be  for  us  to  understand  how  man  can  be  fully  free 
and  fully  accountable,  while  God  retains  so  much  direct 
power  over  his  heart  as  the  Bible  so  distinctly  describes, 
— it  is  possible  cordially  to  feel  the  accountability,  and 
at  the  same  time  sincerely  to  acknowledge  the  depen- 
dence. Look  at  the  case  of  that  Christian  teacher.  She 
prays  most  earnestly  that  God  would  come  and  bless  the 
school  to  which  she  belongs.  She  brings  individual  cases 
in  secrecy  and  solitude  before  God.  She  prays  tliat  faults 
may  be  forgiven — froward  dispositions  softened — and  all 
brouglu  under  the  influence  of  Christian  love.  She  asks 
that  God  will  pour  out  his  Spirit  and  difi'use  peace  and 
happiness  over  the  school-room,  improving  every  cha- 
racter, purifying  and  ennobling  every  heart,  and  making 
the  dejected  happy,  and  the  happy  happier  still.  She  has 
seen  such  an  influence  diffused  over  a  school — she  knows 
it  is  from  above,  and  she  looks  to  Him  who  rules  human 
hearts  to  come  into  her  circle  with  his  benign  influences 
once  more.  Now,  does  she  after  this  go  away  and  spend 
her  time  in  inaction,  on  the  ground  that  God  only  can 
change  the  heart,  and  that  she  has  done  all  in  her  pov/er 
by  bringing  the  case  to  him  ?  No,  she  comes  to  her  morn- 
ing duties  in  the  school-room  with  a  heart  full  of  desire 
to  do  something-  to  promote  what  she  has  asked  God  to 
bestow.  And  she  does  accomplish  something.  By  her 
kindness  she  wins  her  companions  to  her  confidence  and 
love,  and  in  thousand  nameless  ways  which  never  can  be 
described,  but  which  a  heart  full  of  love  will  always  be 
discovering,  she  carries  forward  very  effectually  in  her 
little  circle  the  cause  for  which  she  prays. 

It  is  so  universally.  When  a  minister  allows  his  sense 
of  his   entire  dependence  on  God  to  become   feeble  or 

4 


74  YOUNG   CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  3. 

Conclusion,  Story  of  the  ship  concluded. 


indistinct,  his  efforts,  instead  of  increasing,  diminish. 
It  may  be  called  the  Christian  paradox,  that  he  who,  in 
theory,  ascribes  least  efficacy  to  human  efforts  and  most 
to  the  Spirit  of  God  in  the  salvation  of  men,  is  ordinarily 
most  indefatigable  in  those  very  efforts  which  he  knows 
are  of  themselves  utterly  fruitless  and  vain. 

And  here  I  might  close  this  long  chapter,  by  urging 
my  readers  to  commence  immediately  the  practice  of 
bringing  all  their  wants  and  cares  to  God.  I  trust  some 
have  been  persuaded  by  it  to  do  so.  Some  of  my  young 
readers  however  probably  wish  to  know  what  became  of 
the  packet  ship  which  I  left  in  imminent  danger  out  in 
the  bay  ;  for  that  narrative  is  substantially  true,  though 
I  was  not  an  eye  witness  of  the  scene.  When  I  left  them 
they  were  tossing  about  upon  the  waves  ;  the  storm  was 
increasing,  tlic  captain  had  almost  given  them  over  for 
lost,  and  those  of  the  passengers  who  were  not  prepared 
to  die  were  greatly  agitated  by  remorse  and  terror. 
Things  continued  in  this  state  for  some  hours,  and  very 
few  of  those  on  board  expected  to  see  another  morning. 
The  passengers  in  the  cabin  however  before  long,  per- 
ceived that  tlie  violence  of  the  tempest  was  a  little  abat- 
ing ;  the  thunder  of  the  wind  and  waves  grew  somewhat 
less  ;  and  though  the  pitching  and  tossing  of  the  ship  ra- 
ther increased  than  diminished,  they  began  to  cherish  a 
little  hope  ;  some  of  the  number  even  fell  into  a  troubled 
sleep. 

At  last  there  were  indications  of  the  morning.  The 
dim  form  of  objects  in  the  cabin  began  to  be  a  little  more 
distinct.  The  gray  light  of  day  looked  dov/n  through  the 
narrow  window  of  the  deck.  As  the  passengers  aroused 
themselves,  one  after  another,  and  looked  forth  from  their 
berths,  they  perceived  at  once  that  the  danger  was  over. 
They  went  to  the  deck,  clinging  to  something  firm  for 
support,  for  the  wind  was  still  brisk,  and  the  sea  still 
heaved  and  tumbled  in  great  commotion.  But  the  danger 


Ch.  4.]         CONSEQUENCES    OF    NEGLECTING    DUTY.  75 


The  storm  subsides.  Safe  arrival  at  Provincelown. 


was  over.  The  sky  was  clear.  A  broad  zone  of  light  ex- 
tended itself  in  the  east,  indicating  the  approaching  sun  ; 
and  not  many  miles  distant  there  was  extended  a  lev;^] 
sandy  shore  lined  with  dwellings,  and  opening  to  a  small 
harbor,  tilled  with  vessels  which  had  sought  shelter  there 
from  the  fury  of  the  storm.  It  was  Provincetown,  at  the 
extremity  of  the  Cape.  I  need  not  say  that  the  passen- 
gers and  crew  assembled  once  more,  before  they  landed, 
at  the  throne  of  grace,  to  give  thanks  to  God  for  having 
heard  their  prayer  and  granted  them  protection. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CONSEdUENCES    OF    NEGLECTING    DUTY. 
"  If  ye  know  these  tilings,  happy  are  ye  if  ye  do  them." 

I  have  now,  in  the  several  chapters  which  the  reader 
has  already  had  the  opportunity  of  perusing,  endeavored 
clearly  to  explain  the  first  stops  to  be  taken  in  Christian 
duty,  and  the  principles  and  feelings  by  which  they  ought 
to  be  guided,  and  I  think  that  all  who  have  read  these 
pages  must  have  understood  clearly  and  distinctly  what 
they  ought  to  do.  Take  for  example  the  subject  of  the 
first  chapter — Confession.  You  cannot  read  or  even  think 
upon  that  subject  for  half  an  hour,  without  seeing  plainly 
that  you  have  disobeyed  God  again  and  again,  and  that 
you  have,  by  thus  doing  what  you  know  to  be  wrong,  de- 
stroyed your  peace  of  mind  and  displeased  your  Maker. 
This  no  one  can  deny.  There  is  a  vast  variety  of  religious 
opinion  and  religious  controversy  in  the  world,  but  I  be- 
lieve no  sect,  believing  the  existence  of  the  Deity,  was 
ever  heard  of,  which  maintained  that  man  does  not  do 
wrong,  or  that  he  ought  not  to  acknowledge  his  sins  to 
God. 

But  when  you  savv  clearly  that  you  had  done  wrong, 


76  YOUNG     CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  4. 


Neglecting  duty.  Injury  which  this  book  will  do. 

and  destroyed  your  peace,  did  you  go  and  seek  this  re- 
conciliation ?  How  many  probably  read  that  chapter, 
and  distinctly  understood  what  duty  it  urged  upon  them, 
and  saw  the  reasonableness  of  that  duty,  and  yet  shut  the 
book  and  laid  it  away,  without  ever  intending  at  all  to  set 
resolutely  about  doing  it.  To  understand  clearly  what 
duty  is,  and  to  have  a  disposition  to  do  it,  are  very  dif- 
ferent things. 

I  have  during  the  preceding  chapters  been  explaining 
what  the  duty  of  my  readers  is.  I  have  said  scarcely 
any  thing  to  persuade  you  to  do  it,  and  as  I  have  gone 
on  from  page  to  page,  and  endeavored  so  to  explain  and 
illustrate  the  principles  of  piety  that  every  one  could 
clearly  understand,  the  melancholy  reflection  has  often 
forced  itself  upon  me,  *'How  many  now  will  read  or 
hear  read  these  things,  and  yet  entirely  neglect  to  do  any 
thing  I  describe."  '*  Melancholy  reflection  !"  you  will  say, 
perhaps,  "  why  do  you  call  it  a  melancholy  reflection  ? 
If  some  arc  induced  to  do  their  duty  in  consequence 
of  your  explanations,  you  may  rejoice  in  the  good  which 
is  done,  and  not  think  at  all  of  those  who  disregarded 
what  you  say.  The  book  will  certainly  do  them  no 
harm. 

Will  do  them  no  harm  ?  I  wish  that  could  be  true.  But 
it  is  not.  The  religious  teacher  cannot  console  himself 
with  the  thought  that  when  his  efllDrts  do  no  good,  they 
will  do  no  harm.  For  he  must,  if  he  speaks  distinctly, 
and  brings  fairly  forward  a  subject  of  duty,  cause  every 
one  of  his  readers  to  decide /b?-  it  or  against  it ;  and  when 
a  person  decides  against  duty,  is  he  not  injured?  Is  not 
good  principle  defeated  or  weakened,  and  his  heart  hard- 
ened against  a  future  appeal  ? 

The  chapter  on  Confession  of  Sin,  for  example,  has 
been  undoubtedly  read  by  multitudes  who  shut  the  book 
and  laid  it  aside,  without  at  all  attempting  to  perform  the 
duty  there  pointed  out.    The  duty  was  plainly  brought 


Ch.  4-]       CONSEQUENCES  OF  NEGLECTING    DUTY.  77 

The  disobedient  cliild.  The  message  disregarded. 


before  them.  They  could  not,  and  probably  would  not, 
deny  its  obligation.  But  instead  of  going  accordingly  to 
God,  and  seeking  peace  and  reconciliation  to  him  by  a 
free  confession  of  guilt, — they  laid  the  book  away,  and 
after  a  very  short  time,  all  the  serious  thoughts  it  sug- 
gested vanished  from  their  minds,  and  they  returned  as 
before  to  their  sins.  Now  this  is  deciding-  once  more,  dis- 
tinctly  against  God. 

For  to  decide  against  God  it  is  not  necessary  to  use  the 
actual  language  of  disobedience.  Suppose  that  a  father 
sends  a  child  to  call  back  his  little  sister,  who  is  going 
away  contrary  to  the  parent's  wishes.  The  boy  runs  and 
overtakes  her,  and  delivers  his  message.  The  child  stops 
a  moment,  and  listens  to  the  command  that  she  should 
return  immediately  to  her  home.  She  hesitates — thinks 
of  her  father  and  of  her  duty  to  obey  him,  and  then  looks 
over  the  green  fields  through  which  she  was  walking, 
and  longs  to  enjoy  the  forbidden  pleasure.  There  is  a 
momentary  struggle  in  her  heart,  and  then  she  turns  away 
and  walks  boldly  and  carelessly  on.  The  messenger  re- 
turns slowly  and  sadly  home. 

But  why  does  he  return  sadly  1  He  has  done  his  duty 
in  delivering  the  message.  Why  should  he  be  sad?  He 
is  sad  to  think  of  the  double  guilt  which  his  sister  has  in- 
curred. He  thinks  that  the  occasion  which  his  coming  up 
to  her  presented,  might  have  been  the  means  of  her  re- 
turn and  of  her  forgiveness,  but  that  it  was  the  means  of 
confirming  her  in  disobedience,  and  of  hardening  her  heart 
against  the  claims  of  her  father. 

It  is  just  so  with  the  messages  which  a  Christian  teacher 
brings  to  those  who  listen  to  his  words.  If  they  do  not 
listen  to  obey,  they  listen  to  reject  and  disobey,  and  eve- 
ry refusal  to  do  duty  hardens  the  heart  in  sin.  There  can 
be  no  question,  therefore,  that  such  a  book  as  this  must, 
in  many  cases,  be  the  innocent  mcaiiS  of  fixing  human 
souls  in  their  sins,  as  the  Gospel  itself,  while  it  is  a  sa= 


78  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  4. 

The  Christian  message.  Story  of  Louisa. 

vor  of  life  unto  life  to  some,  to  others  it  is  a  savor  of  death 
unto  death. 

Reader,  is  your  name  on  the  sad  catalogue  of  those  who 
read  religious  books  and  listen  to  religious  instruction 
merely  to  bring  the  question  of  duty  again  and  again  be- 
fore your  minds,  only  to  decide  that  you  will  not  doit? 
If  it  is,  read  and  consider  attentively  the  narrative  to 
which  the  remainder  of  this  chapter  is  devoted.  It  has 
never  before  been  published.  I  providentially  met  with  it 
in  manuscript  while  writing  these  chapters,  and  it  teaches 
so  forcibly  the  lesson  that  ought  now  to  be  impressed  up- 
on my  readers,  that  I  requested  of  the  clergyman  who 
wrote  it,  permission  to  insert  it  here.  The  circumstan- 
ces are  of  recent  occurrence,  and  the  reader  may  rely 
upon  the  strict  truth  and  faithfulness  of  the  description. 

The  reader  will  observe  however  that  there  are  no  re- 
markable incidents  in  his  case.  There  are  no  peculiar 
circumstances  of  any  kind  to  give  interest  to  the  narra- 
tive. It  is  only  a  plain  common  instance,  such  as  are 
occurring  all  around  us  by  tens  of  thousands,  of  the  con- 
sequences of  being  almost  persuaded  to  be  a  Christian 

STORY  OF    LOUISA. 

Shortly  after  my  settlement  in  the  ministry,  I  ob- 
served in  the  congregation  a  young  lady  whose  blooming 
countenance  and  cheerful  air  showed  perfect  health  and 
high  elation  of  spirits.  Her  appearance  satisfied  me  at 
once  that  she  was  amiable  and  thoughtless.  There  was 
no  one  of  my  charge  whose  prospects  for  long  life  were 
more  promising  than  her  own,  and  perhaps  no  one  who 
looked  forward  to  the  future  with  more  pleasing  hopes  of 
enjoyment.  To  her  eye  the  world  seemed  bright.  She 
often  said  she  wished  to  enjoy  more  of  it  before  she  be- 
came a  Christian. 

Louisa  (for  by  that  name  I  shall  call  her)  manifested 


Ch.  4.]         CONSEQUENCES    OF    NEGLECTING    DUTY.  70 

Her  character.  The  evening  meeting. 

uo  particular  hostility  to  religion,  but  wished  to  live  a  gay 
and  merry  life  till  just  before  her  death,  and  then  to  be- 
conne  pious  and  die  happy.  She  was  constant  in  her  at- 
tendance at  church,  and  while  others  seemed  moved  by 
the  exhibition  of  the  Savior's  love,  she  seemed  entirely 
unaffected.  Upon  whatever  subject  I  preached,  her 
countenance  retained  the  same  marks  of  indifference  and 
unconcern.  The  same  easy  smile  played  upon  her  fea- 
tures, whether  sin  or  death,  or  heaven  or  hell,  was  the 
theme  of  discourse.  One  evening  I  invited  a  few  of  the 
young  ladies  of  my  society  to  meet  at  my  house.  She 
came  with  her  companions.  I  had  sought  the  interview 
with  them,  that  I  might  more  directly  urge  upon  them  the 
importance  of  religion.  All  the  room  were  affected — and 
she,  though  evidently  moved,  endeavored  to  conceal  her 
feelings. 

The  interest  in  this  great  subject  manifested  by  those 
present  was  such,  that  I  informed  them  that  I  would  meet, 
in  a  week  from  that  time,  any  who  wished  for  personal 
conversation.  The  appointed  evening  arrived,  and  I  was 
delighted  in  seeing,  with  two  or  three  others,  Louisa  en- 
ter my  house. 

I  conversed  with  each  one  individually.  They  gene- 
rally, with  much  frankness,  expressed  their  state  of  feel- 
ing. Most  of  them  expressed  much  solicitude  respecting 
their  eternal  interests.  Louisa  appeared  different  from 
all  the  rest.  She  was  anxious  and  unable  to  conceal  her 
anxiety,  and  yet  ashamed  to  have  it  known.  She  had  come 
to  converse  with  me  upon  the  subject  of  religion,  and  yet 
was  making  an  evident  effort  to  appear  indifferent.  I  had 
long  felt  interested  in  Louisa,  and  was  glad  of  this  oppor- 
tunity to  converse  with  her. 

"Louisa,"  said  I,  "I  am  happy  to  see  you  here  this 
evening,  and  particularly  so,  as  you  have  come  interested 
in  the  subject  of  religion." 

She  made  no  reply. 


80  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  4. 

Louisa's  interest  in  religion.  Conversation  with  her. 

"  Have  you  been  long  thinking  upon  this  subject, 
Louisa?" 

*'  I  always  thought  the  subject  important,  sir,  but  have 
not  atlended  to  it  as  I  suppose  I  ought." 

"Do  you  now  feel  the  subject  to  be  more  important 
than  you  have  previously?" 

"  I  don't  know,  sir  ;  I  tliink  I  want  to  be  a  Christian. 

"  Do  you  feel  that  you  are  a  sinner,  Louisa?" 

"  I  know  that  I  am  a  singer,  for  the  Bible  says  so,  but 
I  suppose  that  I  do  not  feel  it  enough." 

"  Can  you  expect  that  God  will  receive  you  into  his 
favor  while  you  are  in  such  a  state  of  mind  ?  He  has 
made  you,  and  he  is  now  taking  care  of  you,  giving  you 
every  blessing  and  every  enjoyment  you  have,  and  yet 
you  have  lived  many  years  without  any  gratitude  to  him, 
and  continually  breaking  his  commandments,  and  now  do 
noi  feel  that  you  are  a  sinner.  What  would  you  think 
of  a  child  whose  kind  and  afiectionate  parents  had  done 
every  thing' in  their  power  to  make  her  happy,  and  who 
should  yet  not  feel  that  she  had  done  any  thing  wrong, 
though  she  had  been  every  day  disobeying  her  parents, 
and  had  never  expressed  any  gratitude  for  their  kindness  ? 
You,  Louisa,  would  abhor  such  a  child.  And  yet  this  is 
the  way  you  have  been  treating  your  heavenly  Father. 
And  he  has  heard  you  say  this  evening,  that  you  do  not 
feel  that  you  have  done  wrong,  and  he  sees  your  heart 
and  knows  how  unfeeling  it  is.  Now,  Louisa,  you  must 
be  lost,  unless  you  repent  of  your  sins  and  ask  humbly 
and  earnestly  for  forgiveness.  And  why  will  you  not? 
You  know  that  Christ  has  died  to  atone  for  sin,  and  that 
God  will  forgive  you  for  his  Son's  sake,if  you  are  penitent." 

To  this  Louisa  made  no  reply.  She  did  not  seem  dis- 
pleased, neither  did  her  feelings  appear  subdued. 

After  addressing  a  iew  general  remarks  to  my  young 
friends,  we  kneeled  in  prayer,  and  the  interview  closed. 
Another  meeting  was  appointed  on  the  same  evening  of 


Ch.  4.]    CONSEQUENCES  OF  NEGLECTING  DUTY.     81 


Increasing  interest.  Unwilling  to  yield  to  God. 

the  succeeding  week.  Louisa  again  made  her  appearance 
with  the  same  young  ladies  and  a  few  others.  She  ap- 
peared much  more  deeply  impressed.  Her  coldness  and 
reserve  had  given  place  to  a  frank  expression  of  interest 
and  exhibition  of  feeling. 

**  Well,  Louisa,"  said  I,  as  in  turn  I  commenced  con- 
versing with  her,  "  I  was  almost  afraid  I  should  not  see 
you  here  this  evening." 

**  I  feel,  sir,"  said  she,  '*  that  it  is  time  for  me  to  attend 
to  my  immortal  soul.     I  have  neglected  it  too  long." 

"Do  you  feci  that  you  arc  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  lo  pe- 
rish. I  think  I  want  to  repent,  but  I  cannot.  I  want  to 
love  God,  but  do  not  know  how  I  can." 

**  Do  you  remember,  Louisa,  that  Christ  has  said,  "Who- 
soever he  be  of  you  that  forsaketh  not  all  that  he  hath, 
he  cannot  be  my  disciple?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  Louisa,  now  count  the  cost ;  are  you  ready  to 
give  up  all  for  Christ  ?  Are  you  ready  to  turn  from  your 
gay  companions,  and  lay  aside  your  frivolous  pleasures, 
and  acknowledge  the  Savior  publicly,  and  be  derided,  as 
perhaps  you  will  be,  by  your  former  friends,  and  live  a 
life  of  prayer  and  of  effort  to  do  good  T' 

She  hesitated  for  a  moment,  and  then  replied,  "  I  am 
afraid  not." 

"Well,  Louisa,  the  terms  of  acceptance  with  God  are 
plain,  and  there  is  no  altering  them.  You  cannot  serve 
God  and  Mammon.  If  you  woulJ  be  a  Christian,  you 
must  renovmce  all  sin,  and  with  a  broken  heart  surrender 
yourself  entirely  to  the  Savior." 

The  evening's  interview  closed  as  before,  and  a  simi- 
lar appointment  was  made  for  the  next  week.    Some  of 


82  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Cll.    4, 

Her  sickness.  She  sends  for  her  pastor. 

the  young  ladies  present,  I  had  reason  to  believe,  had  ac- 
cepted the  terms  of  salvation.  The  next  weeV:  about  the 
same  number  were  present,  but  Louisa  was  not  with 
thern  ;  a  slight  cold  had  detained  her.  But  the  week  after 
she  again  appeared.  To  my  great  disappointment  I  found 
her  interest  diminishing.  Though  not  exhibiting  that 
cold  reserve  which  she  at  first  manifested,  she  seemed  far 
less  anxious  than  at  our  last  interview:  the  Spirit  was 
grieved  away.  This  was  the  last  time  she  called  to  see 
me  ;  but  alas  !  I  was  soon  called  to  see  her  under  circum- 
stances which  at  that  time  were  but  little  anticipated. 
These  social  meetings  continued  for  some  time,  and  many 
of  Louisa's  associates,  I  have  cause  to  hope,  became  the 
disciples  of  Jesus. 

Two  or  three  months  passed  away,  and  my  various 
duties  so  far  engrossed  my  mind  that  my  particular  inte- 
rest in  Louisa's  spiriluul  welfare  had  given  place  toother 
solicitudes;  when  one  day  as  I  was  riding  out,  making 
parochial  visits,  one  of  my  parishioners  informed  me  that 
she  was  quite  unwell,  and  desired  to  see  me.  In  a  few 
moments  I  was  in  her  sick  chamber.  She  had  taken  a 
violent  cold,  and  it  had  settled  into  a  fever.  She  was 
lying  in  her  bed,  her  cheek  glowing  with  the  feverish  hue, 
and  her  lips  parched  with  thirst.  She  seemed  agitated 
when  I  entered  the  room,  and  the  moment  I  stood  by  her 
bedside  and  inquired  how  she  did,  she  covered  her  face 
with  both  hands  and  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears. 

Her  sister,  who  was  by  her  bedside,  immediately  turned 
to  me  and  said,  "  Sir,  she  is  in  great  distress  of  mind. 
Mental  agony  has  kept  her  awake  nearly  all  night.  She 
has  wanted  very  much  to  see  you,  that  you  might  con- 
verse with  her.'* 

1  was  fearful  that  the  agitation  of  her  feelings  might 
seriously  injure  her  health,  and  did  all  1  consistently  could 
to  soothe  and  quiet  her. 

"But,  sir,"  said  Louisa,  *' I  am  sick,  and  may  die;  I 


Ch.  4.]    CONSEQUENCES  OF  NEGLECTING  DUTY.     83 

Her  alarm.  Her  increasing  anxiety 

know  that  I  am  not  a  Christian,  and  O  if  I  die  in  this 
state  of  mind,  what  will  become  of  me  ?  What  will  be- 
come of  me  ?"  and  she  again  burst  into  tears. 

What  could  I  say  ?  Every  word  she  said  was  true.  Her 
eyes  were  opened  to  her  danger.  There  was  cause  for 
alarm.  Sickness  was  upon  her.  Delirium  might  soon 
ensue  ;  death  might  be  very  near ;  and  her  soul  was  un- 
prepared to  appear  before  God.  She  saw  it  all  ;  she/eZi 
it  all.  Fever  was  burning  in  her  veins.  But  she  forgot 
her  pain,  in  view  of  the  terrors  of  approaching  judgment. 

I  told  h'^r  that  the  Lord  was  good,  and  that  his  tender 
mercies  were  over  all  his  works  ;  that  He  was  more  ready 
to  forgive  than  we  to  ask  forgiveness. 

"  But,  sir,"  said  she,  *'  I  have  known  my  duty  long,  and 
have  not  done  it.  I  have  been  ashamed  of  the  Savior, 
and  grieved  away  the  Spirit ;  and  now  I  am  upon  a  sick 
bed,  and  perhaps  must  die.  O,  if  I  were  but  a  Christian 
I  should  be  willing  to  die." 

I  told  her  of  the  Savior's  love.  I  pointed  to  many  of 
God's  precious  promises  to  the  penitent.  I  endeavored 
to  induce  her  to  resign  her  soul  calmly  to  the  Savior.  But 
all  was  unavailing.  Trembling  and  agitated  she  was  look- 
ing forward  to  the  dark  future.  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
had  opened  her  eyes,  and  through  her  own  reflections  had 
led  her  into  this  state  of  alarm.  I  knelt  by  her  bedside  and 
fervently  prayed  that  the  Holy  Spirit  would  guide  her  to 
the  truth,  and  that  the  Savior  would  speak  peace  to  her 
trovibled  soul.  O  could  they,  who  are  postponing  repent- 
ance to  a  sick  bed,  have  witnessed  the  suffering  of  this 
once  merry  girl,  they  would  shudder  at  the  'bought  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  dyingbed.  And 
when  sickness  comes,  the  very  circumstance  of  being 


84  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    4 

Dealh-bed  repentance.  Increasing  sickness,  and  mental  suffering 

unprepared  hurries  the  miserable  victim  to  the   grave. 

The  next  day  1  called  again  to  see  Louisa.  Her  fever 
was  still  raging,  and  its  fires  were  fanned  by  mental  suf- 
fering. Poor  girl  !  thought  I,  as  the  first  glance  of  her 
countenance  showed  the  strong  lineaments  of  despair. 
I  needed  not  to  ask  how.  she  felt.  Her  countenance  told 
her  feelings.  And  I  knew  that  while  her  mind  was  in  this 
state,  restoration  to  health  was  out  of  the  question. 

*'  And  can  you  not,  Louisa,"  said  I,  "  trust  your  soul 
with  the  Savior  who  died  for  you?  He  has  said,  "  Come 
unto  me  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will 
give  you  rest." 

"  O,  sir,  I  know  the  Savior  is  merciful,  but  somehow 
or  other  I  cannot  go  to  him,  I  know  not  why — O,  I  am 
miserable  indeed." 

*'  Do  you  think,  Louisa,  that  you  are  penitent  for  sin  ? 
If  you  are,  you  are  forgiven ;  for  God  who  gave  his  Son 
to  die  for  us,  is  more  ready  to  pardon  than  we  to  ask  for- 
giveness. He  is  more  ready  to  give  good  gifts  to  the 
penitent  than  any  earthly  parent  to  give  bread  to  his 
hungry  child." 

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 
yet  a  great  way  of]"  liis  father  saw  him,  and  had  compas- 
sion, and  ran,  and  fell  upon  his  neck  and  kissed  him." 

*'  O,  sir,"  said  she,  "  none  of  these  promises  are  for  me. 
I  find  no  peace  to  my  troubled  spirit.  I  have  long  been 
sinning  against  God,  and  now  he  is  summoning  me  to 
render  up  my  account,  and  O  !  what  an  account  have  I 
to  render  !  The  doctor  gives  me  medicine,  but  I  feel  that 
it  does  no  good,  for  I  can  think  of  nothing  but  my  poor 
soul.  Even  if  I  were  perfectly  well,  I  could  hardly  en- 
dure the  view  which  God  has  given  me  of  my  sins.  If 
they  were  forgiven,  how  happy  should  I  be  !  but  now — 
O  !" — her  voice  was  stopped  by  a  fit  of  shuddering,  which 


Ch.  4.]       CONSEQUENCES    OF    NEGLECTING    DUTY.  85 

Louisa's  despair.  Her  advice  to  her  young  friends. 

agitated  those  around  her  with  the  fear  that  ahe  might  be 
dying.  Soon,  however,  lier  nerves  were  more  quiet,  and 
I  kneeled  to  commend  her  spirit  to  the  Lord. 

As  I  rode  home,  her  despairing  countenance  was  un- 
ceasingly before  me.  Her  lamentations,  her  mournful 
groans,  were  continually  crying  in  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  eHbrts  at  this  sick  bed. 

Another  morning  came.  As  I  knocked  at  the  door  ol 
her  dwelling  I  felt  a  most  painful  solicitude  as  to  the 
answer  I  might  receive. 

*'  How  is  Louisa  this  morning?"  said  I  to  the  person 
who  opened  the  door. 

"  She  is  fast  failing,  sir,  and  the  doctor  thinks  she  can- 
not recover.  We  have  just  sent  for  her  friends  to  come 
and  see  her  before  she  dies." 

"Is  her  mind  more  composed  than  it  has  been?" 

"  O  no,  sir.  She  has  had  a  dreadful  night.  She  says 
that  she  is  lost,  and  that  there  is  no  hope  for  her." 

I  went  into  her  chamber.  Despair  was  pictured  more 
deeply  than  ever  upon  her  flushed  and  fevered  counte- 
nance. I  was  surprised  at  the  strength  she  still  manifest- 
ed as  she  tossed  from  side  to  side.  Death  was  evidently 
drawing  near.  She  knew  it.  She  had  lived  without  God, 
and  felt  that  she  was  unprepared  to  appear  before  him.  A 
few  of  her  young  friends  were  standing  by  her  bedside. 
She  warned  them  in  the  most  affecting  terms  to  prepare  for 
death  while  in  health.  She  told  them  of  the  mental  agony 
she  was  then  enduring,  and  of  the  heavier  woes  which 
were  thickly  scattered  through  that  endless  career  she 
was  about  to  enter.  All  her  conversation  was  interspers- 
ed with  the  most  heart-rending  exclamations  of  despair. 
She  said  she  knew  that  God  was  ready  to  forgive  the  sin 
cerely  penitent,  but  that  her  sorrow  was  not  sorrow  foi 
sin,  but  dread  of  its  awful  penally. 


YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  4. 


Last  visit.  Her  sufferings. 

I  had  already  said  all  that  I  could  to  lead  her  to  the 
Savior — but  no  Savior  cast  his  love  on  this  dying  bed — • 
no  ray  of  peace  cheered  the  de])arting  soul.  Youth  and 
beauty  were  struggling  with  death  ;  and  as  that  eye  which 
but  a  few  days  before  had  sparkled  with  gaiety,  now  gaz- 
ed on  to  eternity,  it  was  fixed  in  an  expression  of  despair. 

"  By  many  a  death-bed  I  had  been, 
"  And  many  a  sinner's  [larting  seen, 
"  Bui  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 
weeping.  It  was  a  scene  which  neither  pen  nor  pencil 
can  portray.  At  the  present  moment  that  chamber  of 
death  is  as  vividly  present  to  my  mind  as  it  was  when  I 
looked  upon  it  through  irrepressible  tears.  I  can  now  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  praying 
that  the  sad  spectacle  might  not  be  lost  upon  any  of  us. 
For  some  time  I  lingered  around  the  solemn  scene  in 


Ch.  5.]  ALMOST    A    CHRISTIAN.  87 


She  dies  at  midnight.      Her  feelings  at  last.     Almost  a  Christian. 

silence.  Not  a  word  was  spoken.  All  knew  that  death  was 
near.  The  friends  who  were  most  deeply  affected  strug- 
gled hard  to  restrain  the  audible  expression  of  grief.  In 
silence  I  had  entered  the  room,  and  in  silence  and  sad- 
ness I  went  away. 

Early  the  next  morning  I  called  at  the  door  to  inquire 
for  Louisa. 

"  She  is  dead,  sir,"  was  the  reply  to  my  question. 

"At  what  time  did  slie  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  willing- 
ness to  depart,  but  she  was  so  weak  and  so  far  gone  that 
it  was  impossible  for  her  to  express  her  mind  with  any 
clearness." 

This  is  all  that  can  be  said  of  the  eternal  prospects  of 
one  who  ^''wished  to  live  a  gay  and  merry  life  till  just 
before  death,  and  then  to  become  pious  and  die  happyP 
Reader  ! 

"  Be  wise  to-day — 'tis  madness  to  defer." 


CHAPTER  V. 

ALMOST     A     CHRISTIAN. 

"Ye  will  not  come  unto  me." 

The  melancholy  story  related  in  tlie  last  chapter  is  not 
an  uncommon  one.  It  is  the  story  of  thousands.  All  that 
is  necessary,  reader,  to  make  the  case  your  own,  is  that 
you  should  feel  such  a  degree  of  interest  in  religious  du  = 


88  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  5. 

Louisa's  case  a  common  one.     Neglecting  duly  wlien  it  is  pointed  out. 

ties  as  to  open  your  eyes  clearly  to  their  demands,  but 
yet  not  enough  to  induce  you  cordially  to  comply  with 
them, — and  then  that  death  should  approach  you  while 
you  are  thus  unprepared.  The  gloomy  forebodings  and 
the  dreadful  remorse  which  darkened  Louisa's  last  hours, 
must  in  such  a  case  be  yours. 

It  was  not  my  intention,  when  forming  the  plan  of  this 
work,  to  have  it  present  religious  truth  and  duty  in  gloomy 
or  melancholy  aspects.  Religion  is  a  most  cheerful  and 
happy  thing  to  practise,  but  a  most  sad  and  melancholy 
thing  to  neglect,  and  as  undoubtedly  some  who  read  this 
book  will  read  it  only  to  understand  their  duty,  without 
at  all  setting  their  hearts  upon  the  performance  of  it,  I 
ought  to  devote  one  or  two  chapters  particularly  to  them. 
The  case  of  Louisa,  though  it  was  a  melancholy  one,  was 
real.  And  what  has  once  occurred,  may  occur  again. 
You  will  observe  too,  that  all  the  suffering  which  she 
manifested  in  her  dying  hour  was  the  work  of  conscience. 
The  minister  did  all  he  could  to  soothe  and  calm  her. 
Examine  all  the  conversation  he  had  with  her  at  her  bed- 
side, and  you  will  find  that  it  was  the  language  of  kind 
invitation. 

Sometimes  such  a  dying  scene  as  this  is  the  portion 
of  an  individual  who  has  lived  a  life  of  open  and  unbridled 
wickedness.  But,  generally,  continued  impiety  and  vice 
lulls  the  conscience  into  a  slumber  which  it  requires  a 
stronger  power  than  that  of  sickness  or  approaching 
death  to  awaken.  Louisa  was  almost  a  Christian.  She 
was  nearly  persuaded  to  begin  a  life  of  piety.  In  just  such  a 
state  of  mind,  my  reader,  it  is  very  probable  you  may  be. 
Perhaps  since  you  have  been  reading  this  book,  you  have 
been  thinking  more  and  more  seriously  of  your  Chris- 
tian duty,  and  ielt  a  stronger  and  stronger  intention  of 
doing  it,  at  least  at  some  future  time.  You  ought,  after 
having  read  the  first  chapter,  to  have  gone  at  once  and 
fully  confessed  all  your  sins  to  God.  When  you  read  the 


Ch.  5.]  ALMOST  A  CHRISTIAN.  89 

How  to  begin  your  duty.  Design  of  this  chapter 

second,  you  should  have  cordially  welcomed  the  Savior 
as  your  friend,  and  chosen  him  as  your  Redeemer  and 
portion.  You  ought  to  have  been  induced  by  the  third  to 
begin  immediately  a  life  of  prayer,  and  to  have  been  con- 
stant and  ardent  at  the  throne  of  Grace  since  you  read  it. 
But  perhaps  you  neglected  all  this.  You  understand  very 
clearly  vv^hat  Christian  duty  is.  It  is  plain  to  you  that 
there  is  a  Being  above,  with  whom  you  ought  to  live  in 
constant  communion.  You  understand  clearly  how  you 
are  to  begin  your  duty,  if  you  have  neglected  it  hereto- 
fore, by  coming  and  confessing  all  your  sins,  and  seeking 
forgiveness  through  Jesus  Christ,  who  has  died  for  you. 
Thus  you  know  what  duty  is.  The  solitary  difficulty  is, 
that  you  will  not  do  it. 

But  why  ?  What  can  be  the  cause  of  that  apparent  in- 
fatuation which  consists  in  continually  neglecting  a  duty 
which  you  acknowledge  to  be  a  duty,  and  which  you 
know  it  would  increase  your  happiness  to  perform  ? 
Were  I  to  ask  you,  it  is  very  probable  you  would  say 
what  I  have  known  a  great  many  others  to  say  in  your 
situation — it  would  be  this  : 

*'  I  know  I  am  a  sinner  against  God,  and  I  wish  to  re- 
pent and  be  forgiven,  and  to  love  and  serve  my  Maker,  but 
/  do  not  see  how  I  can.^^ 

My  reader,  is  this  ijour  state  of  mind  ?  Many  persons 
do  use  this  language,  and  use  it  honestly.  That  is,  they  use 
it  honestly,  if  they  mean  by  it  what  the  language  properly 
does  mean,  that  they  see  the  propriety,  and  duty,  and 
liappiness  of  a  new  life,  so  that  in  some  sense  they  desire 
it,  but  that  some  secret  cause,  which  they  have  not  yet 
discovered,  prevents  their  obedience.  I  design  in  this 
chapter  to  help  you  to  discover  what  that  cause  is.  If 
you  really  v/ish  to  discover  and  to  remove  it,  you  will 
read  the  chapter  carefully,  with  a  willingness  to  be  con- 
vinced, and  you  will  often  pause  to  apply  what  is  said  to 
your  own  case, 


90  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    5. 

Procrastination.  The  student's  evening  walk. 

There  are  three  very  common  causes  which  operate  to 
prevent  persons,  who  are  almost  Christians,  from  becom- 
ing so  altogether. 

I.  A  spirit  of  procrastination.  Waiting  for  a  more  con- 
venient season.  The  following  case  illustrates  this  part 
of  our  subject : 

A  boy  of  about  twelve  or  fourteen  years  of  age,  a  mem- 
ber of  an  academy,  in  which  he  is  pursuing  his  studies 
preparatory  to  his  admission  to  college,  sees  the  duty  of 
commencing  a  Christian  life.  He  walks  some  evening  at 
sunset  alone  over  the  green  fields  which  surrounds  the 
village  in  which  he  resides,  and  the  stillness  and  beauty  of 
the  scene  around  him  bring  him  to  a  serious  and  thoughtful 
frame  of  mind.  God  is  speaking  to  him  in  the  features  of 
beauty  and  splendor  in  which  the  face  of  nature  is  decked. 
The  glorious  western  sky  reminds  him  of  the  hand  which 
spread  its  glowing  colors.  He  looks  into  the  dark  grove 
in  the  edge  of  which  he  is  walking,  and  its  expression  of 
deep,  unbroken  solitude,  brings  a  feeling  of  calm  solem- 
nity over  his  soul.  Tlie  declining  sun, — the  last  faint 
whispers  of  the  dying  evening  breeze, — the  solitary  and 
mournful  note  which  comes  to  him  from  a  lofty  branch  of 
some  tall  tree  in  the  depth  of  the  forest, — these,  and  the 
thousand  other  circumstances  of  such  a  scene,  speak  to 
him  most  distinctly  of  the  flight  of  time,  and  of  the  ap- 
proach of  tliat  evening  when  the  sun  of  his  life  is  to  de- 
cline, and  this  world  cease  for  ever  to  be  his  home. 

As  he  muses  in  this  scene,  he  feels  the  necessity  of  a 
preparation  for  death,  and  as  he  walks  slowly  homeward, 
he  is  almost  determined  to  come  at  once  to  the  conclu- 
sion to  commence  immediately  a  life  of  piety.  He  reflects 
however  upon  the  unpleasant  publicity  of  such  a  change. 
He  has  many  irreligious  friends  whom  it  is  hard  to  relin- 
quish, and  he  shrinks  from  forming  new  acquaintances 
in  a  place  he  is  so  soon  to  leave.  He  reflects  that  he  is 
soon  to  be   transferred  to  college,  and  that  there  he  can 


Ch.  5.]                          ALMOST    A    CHRISTIAN. 

91 

The  admission  to  college. 

Resolution. 

begin  anew.  He  resolves  that  when  he  enters  college 
walls,  he  will  enter  a  Christian ;  that  he  will  from  the 
first  be  known  as  one  determined  to  do  his  duty  toward 
God.  He  will  form  no  irreligious  friendships,  and  then 
he  will  have  none  to  sunder.  He  will  fall  into  no  irreli- 
gious practices,  and  then  he  will  have  none  to  abandon. 
He  thinks  he  can  thus  avoid  the  awkwardness  of  a  pub- 
lic change.  He  is  ungenerous  enough  to  wish  to  steal  thus 
secretly  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  without  humbling 
any  of  his  pride  by  an  open  admission  that  he  has  been 
wrong.  He  waits  for  a  more  convenient  season. 

When  he  finds  himself  on  college  ground  however,  his 
heart  does  not  turn  any  more  easily  to  his  duties  toward 
God.  First,  there  is  the  feverish  interest  of  the  exami- 
nation,— then  the  novelty  of  the  public  recitation-room, 
— the  untried,  unknown  instructor, — the  new  room-mate, 
— and  all  the  multiplied  and  varied  excitements  which 
are  always  to  be  found  in  college  walls.  There  are  new 
acquaintances  to  be  formed,  new  countenances  to  specu- 
late upon,  and  new  characters  to  study,  and  in  these  and 
similar  objects  of  occupation  and  interest  week  after  week 
glides  rapidly  away.  At  last  on  Saturday  evening,  the 
last  of  the  term,  he  is  walking  over  the  college  grounds, 
and  among  the  other  serious  reflections  that  come  upon 
his  mind,  there  are  the  following  : 

"  One  whole  term  has  now  passed,  and  what  have  be- 
come of  all  my  resolutions  to  return  to  God?  How  swiftly 
the  weeks  have  glided  away,  and  I  have  been  going  farther 
and  farther  away  from  God  and  from  duty.  I  find  that  I 
cannot  in  college,  any  more  than  in  any  other  place,  be- 
come a  Christian  without  effort  and  self-denial.  I  must 
come  boldly  to  the  duty  of  giving  up  my  heart  to  God 
and  commencing  publicly  a  Christian  life  ;  and  whenever 
I  do  this,  it  must  be  liard  at  first.  I  will  attend  to  the  sub- 
ject this  vacation.  I  shall  be  quiet  and  retired  at  home, 
and  shall  have  a  favorable  opportunity  there  to  attend  to 


92  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   5. 

Reflections.  Resolutions  for  senior  year. 

my  duty  and  return  to  God.    I  will  come  back  to  college 
next  term  a  new  man." 

Such  are  his  reflections.  Instead  of  resolving  to  do  his 
duty  now,  he  looks  forward  again,  notwithstanding  his 
former  disappointment,  to  another  more  convenient  sea- 
son. The  bustle  of  the  closing  term,  and  the  plans  and 
preparations  for  the  approaching  vacation,  soon  engross 
his  mind,  and  instead  of  coming  to  his  Maker  at  once  and 
going  home  a  Christian,  he  puts  it  off  in  hopes  to  return 
one.  Vain  hope  !  He  will  undoubtedly  come  back  as  he 
goes,  procrastidiating  duty. 

Term  after  term,  and  vacation  after  vacation  passes, 
away,  and  the  work  of  preparing  for  another  world  is 
still  postponed  and  neglected.  The  longer  it  is  postponed 
the  worse  it  is,  for  he  is  becoming  more  and  more  known 
as  an  irreligious  young  man,  and  more  and  more  inti- 
mately connected  with  those  whose  influence  is  all  against 
religion.  He  soon  quiets  conscience  with  the  reflection 
that,  while  he  is  in  the  lower  classes,  he  is  much  more 
under  the  control  of  public  opinion  ;  others,  older  and 
more  advanced  than  he,  take  the  lead  in  forming  the  sen- 
timents of  the  community,  and  it  is  harder  for  him  to  act 
independently  now,  on  a  subject  which  affects  his  stand- 
ing in  the  estimation  of  his  companions,  than  it  will  be 
when  he  shall  have  passed  on  to  a  higher  class,  and  shall 
have  influence  in  forming  a  public  sentiment  to  act  upon 
others,  instead  of  having  others  to  form  it  for  him. 

The  closing  months  of  college  life  at  last  come  on, 
bringing  with  them  less  and  less  disposition  to  do  his 
duty.  He  has  become  familiarized  to  the  idea  of  living 
without  God.  His  long  and  intimate  acquaintance  with 
irreligious  companions  has  bound  him  to  them  by  ties 
which  he  is  not  willing  to  sunder.  Not  ties  of  affection  ; 
for  there  is  seldom  much  confidence  or  love  in  such  a 
case.  They  are  ties  of  mere  acquaintance, — mere  com- 
munity of  sentiment  and  action.     Yet  he  dreads  to  break 


Ch.  5.]  ALMOST    A    CHRISTIAN.  93 

Resolutions  for  future  life.  The  accepted  time. 

away  from  what  gives  him  little  pleasure,  and  is  thus 
bound  by  a  mysterious  and  unreasonable,  but  almost 
hopeless  slavery.  He  leaves  college  either  utterly  con- 
firmed in  insensibility  to  religious  truth,  or  else  when  he 
occasionally  thinks  of  the  subject,  faintly  hoping  that 
in  the  bustle  of  future  life  some  more  convenient  season 
may  occur,  which  he  may  seize  as  a  time  for  making  his 
peace  with  God. 

This  is  the  history  of  many  a  college  student,  and  by 
a  slight  change  of  the  circumstances  of  the  description, 
it  might  be  made  the  history  of  thousands  of  others  in 
every  walk  of  life.  The  secret  of  this  procrastination  is 
this  ;  The  subject  of  it  is  deluded  by  the  chimerical  hope 
of  finding  some  opportunity  of  coming  to  God  without 
real  submission., — some  way  of  changing  sides  on  a  most 
momentous  subject,  without  the  mortification  of  chang- 
ing,— of  getting  right  without  the  humiliating  acknow- 
ledgment of  having  been  wrong.  Now  these  difliculties, 
which  constitute  the  straitness  of  the  gate  through  which 
we  must  enter,  cannot  he  avoided.  We  cannot  go  round 
them, — we  cannot  climb  up  some  other  way,  and  it  is 
useless  to  wait  for  some  other  way  to  offer.  The  work 
of  coming  directly  and  decidedly  to  our  Maker,  to  con- 
fesss  in  and  to  ask  his  forgiveness,  must  he  done.  The  pub- 
lic acknowledgment  that  we  have  been  wrong,  which  a 
public  change  of  conduct  implies,  must  he  made^  and  it 
will  be  painful.  Irreligious  friends  must,  as  intimates  and 
associates,  be  abandoned;  and  whenever  that  is  done  iiwill 
require  an  effort.  These  steps  must  be  taken,  and  the 
difficulty  of  taking  them  is  increased,  not  diminished,  by 
the  lapse  of  time. 

My  reader,  is  not  the  reason  why  you  cannot  repent  of 
sin  and  love  God  this, — that  you  can  never  say,  '*  I  am 
willing  to  do  it  now  V  Are  you  willing  to  be,  from  this 
time,  the  servant  and  follower  of  Jehovah,  or  are  you  try- 
ing the  mad  experiment  of  postponement  and  delay  ? 


94  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    5. 

Second  cause.  Love  of  Ihe  world. 

II.  Love  of  the  World.  This  is  the  second  of  those 
three  secret  obstacles  to  piety  which  I  was  to  mention  ; 
I  mean  secret  obstacles  in  the  way  of  those  who  think 
that  they  wish  to  be  penitent,  but  that  they  cannot.  I 
am  not  novv  considering  the  causes  which  are  operating 
so  extensively  in  chaining  the  great  mass  of  mankind  down 
in  their  bondage  to  sin  ;  I  speak  only  of  those  who  feel 
some  interest  in  this  subject,  who  think  they  desire  sal- 
vation, and  are  willing  to  do  what  God  requires,  but  can- 
not. TJnder  this  second  head  I  am  to  endeavor  to  show 
that  many  of  my  readers  who  are  in  this  state  of  mind 
are  prevented  from  doing  their  duty  by  a  secret  love  of 
the  world.  I  shall  not  however  succeed  in  showing  this, 
unless  you  co-operate  with  me.  If,  while  you  read  it,  you 
put  yourself  in  an  attitude  of  defence,  you  can  easily  set 
aside  what  I  have  to  say.  I  shall  suppose  however  that 
you  really  wish  to  know,  and  that  you  will  apply  what  I 
present,  with  impartiality  and  candor  to  yourselves. 

In  one  sense,  it  is  right  to  love  the  world.  God  has 
made  it  for  our  enjoyment,  and  filled  it  with  sources  of 
happiness  for  the  very  purpose  of  having  us  enjoy  them. 
We  are  to  look  upon  it  therefore  as  a  scene  in  which 
the  Creator  intended  that  we  should  be  happy,  and  we 
are  to  derive  from  it  all  the  happiness  that  we  can. 

There  are  however  temptations  in  this  world,  as  all 
will  admit ;  that  is,  pleasures  which  beckon  us  away 
from  duty.  When  a  young  person  begins  to  think  of  re- 
ligious duly,  these  pleasures  which  have  perhaps  long 
been  enjoyed  come  up  to  view, — not  very  distinctly,  but 
still  with  so  much  effect  as  to  blind  the  mind  and  har- 
den the  heart.  Perhaps,  my  reader,  you  can  think  of 
some  irreligious  companion  wliom  you  know  you  must 
give  up  if  you  become  an  open  and  decided  Christian. 
Even  if  you  do  not  give  up  him,  you  expect  that  he 
will  give  up  you,  if  such  a  change  should  take  place  in 
your  character.     Now  although  you  do   not  distinctly 


Ch.  5.]  ALMOST    A   CHRISTIAN.  95 


Sacrifices  necessary.  Third  cause. 

make  a  comparison  between  the  pleasures  of  his  society 
on  the  one  side,  and  the  peace  and  happiness  of  religion 
on  the  other,  and  after  balancing  their  claims  decide 
against  God  and  duty, — although  you  make  no  formal 
decision  like  this,  yet  the  image  of  that  friend,  and  tlie 
recollection  of  the  past  pleasures  of  his  society,  and  the 
prospect  of  future  enjoyment,  come"  into  your  mind  and 
secretly  hold  you  a  prisoner.  The  chain  is  wound  around 
your  heart,  and  its  pressure  is  so  gentle  that  you  scarce- 
ly perceive  it.  Still  it  holds  you  firmly,  and  until  you 
loosen  the  link,  it  will  hold  you.  You  do  right  while 
you  are  in  this  state  of  mind  to  say  that  you  caniiot 
love  God.  Our  Savior  says  the  same.  "  If  any  man 
come  to  me  and  hate  not,"  that  is,  is  not  cordially  will- 
ing to  give  up,  if  necessary,  "  his  father  and  mother  and 
"w^ife  and  sisters,  yea,  and  his  own  life  also,  he  cannot  be 
my  disciple."  You  cannot  be  the  disciple  of  Christ  till 
you  are  willing  to  give  up  the  world  in  all  its  forms. 

Perhaps  it  is  not  a  friend  which  keeps  you  from  the 
Savior,  but  some  other  object.  You  may  indulge  your- 
self in  some  practice  which  conscience  secretly  con- 
demns. Perhaps  there  is  a  favorite  amusement  which 
you  must  give  up  if  you  should  become  a  consistent 
Christian.  You  do  not  distinctly  bring  this  up  before 
your  mind,  into  formal  comparison  with  the  hope  of  a 
happy  immortality,  and  decide  that  it  is  superior.  It  in- 
sinuates itself  into  your  mind,  and  shuts  its  avenues 
against  the  light.  You  wonder  that  you  do  not  see  and 
feel,  and  cannot  discover  the  cause. 

III.  Fear  of  the  world.  Where  love  of  the  world  binds 
one  soul  in  sin,  the  fear  of  it,  in  some  form  or  other, 
binds  ten.  Every  one  is  surrounded  by  a  circle  of  in- 
fluence, it  may  be  small  or  great,  which  is  hostile  to 
piety.  To  take  the  attitud^e  of  a  humble  Christian  in 
the  presence  of  this  circle  of  acquaintances  and  friends, 
to  abandon  your  past  course   of  conduct  with  the   ac- 


96  YOUNG   CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  5' 

Fear  of  th,e  world.  Difficulties  foretold  by  the  Savior. 

knowledgment  that  it  has  been  entirely  wrong,  and  to 
encounter  the  cold  and  forbidding,  or  perhaps  scornful 
looks  of  those  whom  you  have  been  accustomed  to  call 
your  friends, — all  this  is  trying, — You  shrink  from  it. 
You  do  not  very  distinctly  take  it  into  consideiation,  but 
it  operates  with  an  influence  the  more  unmanageable, 
because  it  is  unseen.  My  object  in  alluding  to  it  here, 
therefore,  is  to  bring  it  out  to  view,  that  you  may  dis- 
tinctly see  it,  and  bring  fairly  up  the  question  whether 
you  will  be  deterred  by  such  a  consideration  from  doing 
your  duty  toward  your  Maker. 

These  three  reasons  are  ordinarily  the  causes  why 
those  who  are  almost  Christians,  do  not  become  so  al- 
together. They  are  strong  reasons.  They  hold  a  great 
many  individuals  in  lasting  bondage,  and  they  will  pro- 
bably continue  to  hold  many  of  my  readers  in  their 
chains.  It  is  no  small  thing,  and,  with  hearts  and  ha- 
bits like  ours,  it  is  no  easy  thing  to  become  a  Christian. 
The  inquiry  is  not  unfrequently  made,  why  the  preach- 
ing of  the  Gospel  in  this  world  produces  such  partial 
cHects,  and  surprise  is  expressed  that  so  few  are  found 
to  comply  with  its  reasonable  claims,  and  to  respect  its 
awful  sanctions.  But  when  we  look  at  those  circum- 
stances in  the  case  which  exhibit  the  greatness  of  the 
sacrifice  which  every  man  must  make  who  really  be- 
comes a  Christian  in  a  world  like  this,  we  may  rather 
be  surprised  that  so  many  are  found  to  come  to  the  Sa- 
vior. 

Jesus  Christ  foretold  all  these  obstacles.  He  was  very 
frank  and  open  in  all  his  statements.  He  never  has  in- 
tended to  bring  any  one  into  unforeseen  difficulties.  He 
stated  very  plainly  what  he  expected  of  his  followers  ; 
he  described  the  sacrifices  they  must  make  to  please 
him,  and  the  troubles  they  must  endure ;  and  when  he 
left  them  at  last,  he  told  them  plainly  that  if  they  should 
persevere  in  his  service   after  he  was  gone,   they  must 


Ch.  5.]  ALMOST    A    CHRISTIAN.  97 

Entire  surrender  required.  Real  submission. 

go  on  expecting   to   suffer,   to  bleed   and  to  die  in  this 
cause. 

"  Whosoever  he  be  of  you  that  forsaketh  not  all  that 
he  hath,  he  cannot  be  my  disciple."  How  strong  an  ex- 
pression !  What  an  entire  surrender  of  the  individuals 
addressed  does  it  require  !  And  yet  he  says,  "my  yoke 
is  easy  and  my  burden  is  light."  How  is  this  ?  Does 
not  the  first  declaration  imply  that  the  service  of  Christ 
is  a  hard  service  ?  And  does  not  the  latter  imply  that  it  is 
easy  ?  There  are  two  classes  of  passages  in  the  Scrip- 
tures which  seem,  on  this  point,  to  speak  a  different  lan- 
guage. But  the  explanation  is  this :  It  is  hard  for  you 
to  come  to  Jesus  Christ.  Worldly  pleasures  beckon  yooi 
away.  Dangers  and  difficulties  frown  upon  you,  and  above 
all  the  rest,  pride, — pride,  that  most  unconquerable  of 
enemies,  stands  erect  and  says  you  must  not  take  the  atti- 
tude of  a  humble  Christian.  Now  all  these  obstacles  you 
must  overcome.  The  world  must  be  relinquished  ;  the 
claims  of  even  father  and  mother,  if  they  interfere  with 
duty  to  God,  must  give  way  ;  the  trials  which  in  a  life  of 
piety  will  await  you,  must  be  boldly  encountered,  and 
pride  must  yield.  But  when  this  is  done — the  surrender 
once  made — all  is  happy  ;  the  yoke  is  easy,  and  the  bur- 
den is  light.  If  the  heart  is  really  submissive  to  God,  if 
its  own  affections  have  indeed  been  crucified,  and  if  God 
really  reigns  there,  peace  comes  ;  and  peace  and  happi- 
ness will  really  reign,  unless  returning  pride  and  world- 
liness  renew  the  struggle.  The  government  of  God  in  the 
soul  is  a  government  which  regulates,  but  does  not  en- 
slave ;  it  diffuses  over  the  heart  unmingled  peace  and 
happiness. 

Let  all  then  distinctly  understand  that  there  is  no  be- 
coming a  disciple  of  Jesus  Christ  without  real  svhmis- 
sion,  and  submission  is  no  pleasant  work  for  human  na- 
ture to  perform.  It  is  hard  for  us  to  acknowledge  that 
we  have  been  wrong ;  to  bow  to  a  power  which  we  have 
5 


98  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Cll.   5. 

Changing  sides.  Address  to  a  yoing  man. 

long  opposed,  and  thus  publicly  and  openly  to  change 
sides  on  a  subject  which  divides  the  world.  But  it  must 
be  done.  Enmity  to  God,  or  uncompromising  submission 
to  his  will,  is  the  only  alternative. 

It  is  right  that  this  should  be  the  only  alternative.  Just 
look  at  the  facts.  The  Creator  of  all  has  proclaimed  as 
the  law  of  his  empire,  that  all  beings  should  love  him  su- 
premely, and  their  fellows  as  themselves.  We  have  al- 
ways known  that  this  was  his  law  ;  we  know  too  that  it 
is  reasonable  in  its  nature,  and  most  excellent  in  its  ten- 
dency. No  man  can  say  that  it  is  not  exactly  calculated 
to  diffuse  universal  happiness ;  nor  can  any  man  deny 
that  its  almost  unceasing  violation  here  has  filled  the 
world  with  misery  and  crime.  Now,  excellent  and  rea- 
sonable as  this  law  is,  there  are  millions  in  the  human 
family  who  have  spent  all  their  lives  in  the  continued,  un- 
ceasing violation  of  it.  They  know  that  they  never  have, 
for  a  single  moment,  loved  God  supremely,  or  loved 
their  neighbors  as  themselves.  Now  all  of  us  who  are, 
or  who  have  been  in  this  state,  have  been  plainly  taking 
side  against  God,  and  against  the  general  happiness. 
We  have  been  violating  known  duty,  continuing  in  ac- 
knowledged sin;  and  the  effect  has  not  been  confined  to 
ourselves  ;  the  influence  has  extended.  Our  example  liag 
been  in  favor  of  irreligion ;  and  as  our  sin  has  thus  been 
public,  can  we  complain  that  God  should  require  our  ac- 
knowledgment to  be  public  too?  No;  submission  to  God 
must  be  entire,  unqualified,  unreserved,  or  we  cannot  ex- 
pect God  to  receive  it. 

But  let  me  be  more  particular.  Perhaps  some  young 
man  who  reads  this  is  almost  persuaded  to  be  a  Christian. 
He  is  still  an  irreligious  man.  I  do  not  mean  that  he  is  op- 
posed to  religion,  but  that  he  is  without  piety.  Were  I 
to  address  such  an  one  individually,  I  would  say  to  him, 
*'  You,  sir,  are  probably  to  remain  twenty  or  thirty  years 
in  the.  community  of  which  you  now  form  a  part.  These 


Ch.  5.]  ALMOST    A    CHRISTIAN.  99 

Good  to  be  done.  The  uncliristian  jmrenL 

years  will  be  in  the  very  prime  of  your  life.  Your  in- 
fluence is  now  great ;  it  is  increasing,  and  it  must  increase. 
God  has  brought  you  into  this  scene.  Your  original 
powers  and  your  education  you  owe  to  him.  The  habits 
of  industry  and  of  integrity  which  you  have  acquired, 
would  not  have  been  yours  witbout  his  aid.  He  has  held 
you  up  and  brought  you  forward  ;  and  now,  as  the  open- 
ing prospects  of  usefulness  and  happiness  lie  before  you, 
he  wishes  you  to  come  to  him  and  to  assist  in  the  exe- 
cution of  his  plans  for  the  promotion  of  human  happi- 
ness. Will  50U  come?  There  will  be  a  great  deal  of 
suffering  which  you  can  alleviate  during  the  twenty  years 
that  are  before  you,  if  you  will  set  your  heart  upon  al- 
leviating suffering.  There  will  be  much  vice  which  your 
influence  may  prevent,  if  you  will  exert  it  aright.  You 
may  be  the  means  too  of  bringing  many  an  unhappy  sin- 
ner to  the  Savior  wlio  died  for  him,  if  you  will  but  come 
and  love  that  Savior  yourself,  and  seek  to  promote  his 
cause."  "  But  no,"  do  you  say  ?  "  I  have  been,  I  acknow- 
ledge, in  the  wrong,  but  I  cannot  bow  to  truth  and  duty, 
and  humble  piide, — abandon  my  ground,  and  stand  be- 
fore the  world  the  acknowledged  victim  of  folly  and  sin." 
Then  you  cannot  serve  God.  Unless  you  will  do  this, 
you  cannot  be  Christ's  disciple. 

Is  there  an  unchristian  parent  who  reads  tliese  pages? 
God  has  especial  claims  upon  you  in  your  family  circle. 
You  are  moulding  the  hearts  of  these  children  by  your 
influence,  and  the  lineaments  which  your  daily  example 
is  calling  forth  here  are  probably  to  last.  You  are  do- 
ing work  for  a  very  long  futurity.  You  endeavor  to  pro- 
mote the  happiness  of  your  children  for  this  life,  but  God 
wisne^"  to  make  tliem  happy  forever,  and  he  invites  you 
to  come  ano  "o-operate  with  him  in  the  noble  design. 
But  you  cannot  co-operate  with  him  until  you  join  him. 
If  you  have  been  ajrainst  him  thus  far,  you  cannot  join 
him  without  submission.     "  Bui  all  !"   you   say, — "  that 


o*^!A7 


100  YOUNG    GHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  5 

Submission  hard.  The  youth. 

word  submission  !  It  is  hard  to  submit."  I  know  it  is 
hard.  For  example,  you  have  perhaps  neglected  family 
prayer.  You  cannot  be  God's  friend  and  do  your  duty 
fuily  till  it  is  begun.  You- cannot  join  with  him  in  pro- 
moting the  eternal  happiness  of  your  son  or  your  daugh- 
ter, till  you  are  willing  to  make  up  your  mind  to  bow  be- 
fore your  Maker  at  the  fireside  altar  for  the  first  time* 
And  when  you  do  it  in  a  proper  spirit,  for  the  first  time, 
you  acknowledge  the  guilt  of  past  neglect, — you  take  the 
attitude  of  a  humbled,  altered  man.  This  is  submission, 
and  without  it  you  cannot  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
God  asks  you  to  do  this,  but  his  sole  motive  for  asking 
it  is,  probably,  that  he  may  make  you  a  happy  fellow- 
worker  with  him. 

Look  at  that  youth,  the  favored  object  in  the  circle  of 
friends  and  companions  in  which  he  moves.  His  upright 
character  has  commanded  respect,  and  his  amiable  dispo- 
sition has  secured  affection.  His  companions  seek  his  so- 
c\e\y — they  observe  and  imitate  his  example — they  catch 
and  adopt  his  opinions.  He  has  never,  now,  said  a  word 
against  religion.  He  complies  respectfully  with  all  its  ex- 
ternal observances,  and  in  fine  does  all  which  he  can  do 
without  being  personally  humbled  But  how  would  he 
shrink  from  having  it  whispered  about  in  the  circle  in 
which  he  moves,  that  he  is  anxious  for  the  salvation  of 
his  soul  !  How  unwilling  would  he  be  that  it  should  be 
known  that  he  went  to  his  pastor  for  personal  religious 
instruction,  or  that  he  had  taken  any  step  which  should 
admit  before  all  that  he  had  been  himself,  personally,  a 
guilty  rebel  against  God,  and  that  he  wished  to  change 
sides  now,  and  do  good  as  openly  and  as  publicly  as  he 
had  before  done  injury  !  But  O  !  reflect ;  you  have  taken 
an  open  stand  against  God,  and  are  you  not  willing  to  take 
an  open  stand  in  his  favor  ?  I  know  it  is  painful — it  is  the 
very  crucifixion  of  the  flesh ;  but  God  cannot  propose  any 
other  terms  than  that  those  who  have  been  open  enemies 


Ch.  5]  ALMOST    A    CHRISTIAN,  lOl 

Submission  necessary.       Why  it  is  so  difficult  to  becotne  a  Christian 

should  become  open  friends,  and  no  generous  mind  can 
ask  any  easier  conditions. 

Indeed  sometimes  it  has  appeared  to  me,  that  if  ano- 
ther mode  of  entering  the  kingdom  of  heaven  had  been 
proposed,  we  should  see,  ourselves,  its  impropriety. 
Suppose  the  Savior  were  to  say  to  a  sinner  thus  :  '•  You 
have  been  my  enemy,  I  know.  In  the  controversy  which 
has  existed  between  God  and  his  revolted  subjects,  vou 
have  taken  the  wrong  side.  You  have  been  known  to  be 
without  piety,  and  for  many  long  years  you  have  been 
exerting  an  influence  against  God,  and  against  the  liap- 
piness  of  the  creation.  But  I  am  ready  to  forgive  you,  if 
you  wiJ]  return  to  me  now.  And  as  publicly  giving  up  in 
such  a  controversy  is  always  painful  to  the  pride  of  the 
human  heart,  I  will  excuse  you  from  this.  You  may  come 
secretly  and  be  my  friend,  to  save  you  the  mortification 
of  publicly  changing  sides  in  a  question  on  which  your 
opinions  and  your  conduct  have  long  been  known." 

To  this,  a  spirit  of  any  nobleness  or  generosity  would 
reply  "  If  I  hav^e  been  in  the  wrong,  and  I  freely  acknow- 
ledge that  I  have, — I  choose  openly  to  avow  it.  My  re- 
cantation shall  be  known  as  extensively  as  my  sin.  I 
will  not  come  and  make  my  peace  secretly  with  God,  and 
leave  my  example  to  go  on  alluring,  as  it  has  done, 
others  to  live  in  sin.  If  pride  remonstrates,  I  will  cut  it 
down  ;  and  if  my  comrades  deride  my  change,  I  will  bear 
their  reproaches.  They  cannot  injure  me  as  much  as  my 
ungodly  example  and  influence  has  injured  them." 

Whether  however  the  sinner  sees  the  necessity  of  his 
being  really  humbled  before  he  is  forgiven,  or  not — God 
sees  it — every  holy  being  sees  it ;  and  Jehovah's  determi- 
nation is  fixed.  We  must  submit,  or  we  cannot  be  par- 
doned 

Do  you  not  now,  my  reader,  see  what  is  the  reason 
why  you  cannot  be  a  Christian  ?  You  say  you  wish  to, 
but  cannot,  and  in  nine  out  of  ten  of  such  cases  the  dif- 


102  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  5. 

The  jailor's  submission.  Subject  dismissed. 

ficulty  is,  you  are  not  cordially  willing  to  give  up  all  to 
God.  Pride  is  not  yet  humbled,  or  the  world  is  not  yet 
surrendered, — and  until  it  is,  you  cannrt  expect  peace. 
You  know  you  have  been  wrong — and  you  wish  now  to 
be  right ;  but  this  cannot  be  without  an  open  change, 
and  this  you  shrink  from.  The  jailor  who  came  trem- 
bling to  know  what  he  must  do  to  be  saved,  was  told  to 
repent  and  be  baptized  immediately.  How  humiliating! 
to  appear  the  next  morning  a  spectacle  to  the  whole 
community, — a  stern  public  olhccr  bowed  down  to  sub- 
mission through  the  iiifiuonce  of  the  very  prisoners 
committed  to  his  charge.  Yet  he  was  willing  to  encoun- 
ter it.  And  you — if  you  can  just  consent  to  yield — to 
yield  every  thing — throw  down  every  weapon,  and  give 
up  every  refuge,  and  come  now  to  the  Savior,  bearing 
your  cross — that  is,  bringing  life,  and  reputation,  and  all 
you  hold  dear,  and  placing  it  at  his  supreme  disposal, 
you  may  depend  upon  forgiveness  and  peace.  But  while 
your  heart  is  full  of  reservations,  while  the  world  re- 
tains its  hold  and  pride  is  unsubdued,  and  you  are  thus 
unwilling  openly  and  decidedly  to  take  the  right  side,  is 
it  unjust  or  unkind  in  God  to  consider  you  as  upon  the 
wrong  one? — ^^Far  be  it  from  me  to  advocate  ostentation 
in  piety.  The  humble  retiring  Christian,  who  communes 
with  his  own  heart  and  with  God,  is  in  the  best  road  to 
growth  in  grace,  and  to  usefulness  ;  but  every  one 
ought  to  be  willing,  and,  if  he  is  really  penitent,  will  be 
willing,  that  the  part  he  takes  i^n  this  great  question 
should  be  known. 

I  now  dismiss  this  subject,  not  to  resume  it  again  in  this 
volume.  Knowing,  as  I  did,  that  there  would  undoubt- 
edly be  many  among  the  readers  of  this  book  who  can 
only  be  called  almost  Christians,  I  could  not  avoid  de- 
voting a  chapter  or  two  to  them.  I  have  now  explained 
as  distinctly  as  I  have  been  able  to  do  i«.  the  submission 
of  the  heart  which  is  necessary  in  becoming  a  Christian, 


Ch.  6.]  DIFFICOLTIES    I.N    IIELIGION.  103 

Perplexities.  Difficulties  in  Keligion 

and  what  are  the  difficulties  in  the  way.  I  should  evince 
but  a  slight  knowledge  of  the  human  heart  if  I  vvere  not 
to  expect  that  many  who  read  this  will  still  remain  only 
almost  Christians.  I  must  here,  however,  lake  my  final 
leave  of  them,  and  invite  the  others — those  who  are 
willing  now  cordially  to  take  the  Savior  as  tl)cir  portion, 
to  go  on  with  mc  through  the  remaining  chapters  of  the 
book,  which  I  shall  devote  entirely  to  those  who  are  al- 
together Christians. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

DIFFICULTIES    IN    RELIGION. 

'•  The  secret  things  belong  unto  the  Lord  our  God." 

The  Young  Christian,  conscientiously  desiring  to  know 
and  to  do  his  duty,  is,  at  the  outset  of  his  course,  per- 
plexed by  a  multitude  of  difficulties  which  are  more  or 
less  remotely  connected  with  the  subject  of  religion,  and 
which  ivill  arise  to  his  view.  These  difficulties  in  many 
cases  cannot  be  removed.  The  embarrassing  perplexity, 
however,  which  arises  frojn  them,  always  can,  and  it  is 
tO  this  subject  that  1  wish  to  devote  the  present  chapter. 
My  plan  will  be  in  the  first  place  to  endeavor  thoroughly 
to  convince  all  who  read  it,  that  difficulties  must  be  ex- 
pected— difficulties  too  which  they  cannot  entirely  sur- 
mount ;  and  in  the  second  place  to  explain  and  illustrate 
the  spirit  with  which  they  must  be  met. 

It  is  characteristic  of  the  human  mind  not  to  be  will- 
ing to  wait  long  in  suspense,  on  any  question  presented 
to  it  for  decison.  When  any  new  question  or  new  sub- 
ject comes  before  us,  we  grasp  hastily  at  the  little  infor- 
mation in  regard  to  it  within  our  immediate  reach,  and 


104  YOUNG     CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   6. 

Mistakes.  Story  of  the  Chinese  and  the  map 

then  hurry  to  a  decision.  We  are  not  often  willing  to 
wait  to  consider  whether  the  subject  is  fairly  within  the 
grasp  of  our  powers,  and  whether  all  the  facts  which 
are  important  to  a  proper  consideration  of  it  are  before 
us.  We  decide  at  once.  It  is  not  pleasant  to  be  in  sus- 
j)ense.  Suspense  implies  ignorance,  and  to  admit  igno 
ranee,  is  humiliating. 

Hence  most  persons  have  a  settled  belief  upon  almost 
every  question  which  has  been  brought  before  them.  In 
expressing  their  opinions  they  mention  things  which  they 
believe,  and  thfngs  which  they  do  not  believe;  but  very  few 
people  have  a  third  class  of  questions  which  they  ac- 
knowledge to  be  beyond  their  grasp,  so  that  in  regard  to 
them  they  can  neither  believe  nor  disbelieve,  but  must  re- 
main in  suspense.  Now  this  is  the  secret  of  nine-tenths 
of  the  difierence  of  opinion,  and  of  the  sharp  disputes  by 
which  tliis  world  is  made  so  noisy  a  scene.  Men  jump  at 
conclusions  before  they  distinctly  understand  the  pre- 
mises, and  as  each  one  sees  only  a  part  of  what  he 
ought  to  see  before  forming  his  opinion,  it  is  not  sur- 
prising that  each  should  see  a  different  part,  and  should 
consequently  be  led  to  different  results.  They  then  fall 
into  a  dispute,  each  presenting  his  own  partial  view,  and 
shutting  his  eyes  to  that  exhibited  by  his  opponent. 

Some  of  the  mistakes  which  men  thus  fall  into  are 
melancholy;  others  only  ludicrous.  Some  European 
traveler  showed  a  map  of  the  world  to  a  Chines.e  philo- 
sopher. The  philosopher  looked  at  it  a  few  moments, 
and  then  turned  with  proud  and  haughty  look  and  said 
to  the  by-standers,  "  This  map  is  entirely  wrong  ;  the 
English  know  nothing  of  geography.  They  have  got 
China  out  upon  one  side  of  the  world,  whereas  it  is,  in 
fact,  exactly  in  the  middled 

Multitudes  of  amusing  stories  are  related  by  travellers 
of  the  mistakes  and  misconceptions  and  false  reasonings 
of  semi-barbarous  people,  about  the  subjects  of  European 


Ch.  6.]  DIFFICULTIES    IN    RELIGION.  105 

Difficulties  in  all  subjects.  Astronomical  difficulties 

science  and  philosophy.  They  go  to  reasoning  at  once, 
and  fall  into  the  grossest  errors — but  still  they  have  much 
more  confidence  in  their  silly  speculations,  than  in  any 
evidence  which  their  minds  are  capable  of  receiving. 

But  you  will  perhaps  ask  me  whether  I  mean  to  com- 
pare the  readers  of  this  book  with  such  savages.  Yes  ; 
the  human  mind,  in  its  tendencies,  is  every  where  the 
same.  The  truths  wliich  relate  to  the  world  of  spirits 
are,  to  us,  what  European  science  is  to  a  South  Sea  Isl- 
ander. Our  minds  experience  the  same  difficulty  in  grasp- 
ing them,  and  we  hurry  to  the  same  wild  speculations  and 
false  conclusions. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  the  truths  contained  in  a  reve- 
lation from  heaven  should  be  beyond  our  grasp.  We 
cannot  even  fairly  grasp  the  truths  relating  to  the  mere 
physical  motions  of  this  earth.  We  know,  for  instance, 
that  the  distinction  downward  is  only  toward  the  earth. 
Now  let  your  imagination  extend  iialf  round  the  globe, 
Thint  of  the  people  who  are  standing  upon  it,  exactly 
opposite  to  ourselves,  and  try  to  realize  that  downward 
is  toward  the  earth  there.  You  believe  it,  I  know  ;  but 
can  you,  in  the  expressive  phrase  of  children,  maTie  it 
seem  so? 

Again  you  know,  if  you  believe  that  the  eartti  revolves, 
that  the  room  you  are  in,  revolves  vath  it,  and  that  con- 
sequently it  was,  six  hours  ago,  in  a  position  the  reverse 
of  what  it  now  is, — so  tliat  the  floor  was  in  a  direction 
corresponding  to  that  of  the  walls  now.  Now  can  you, 
by  any  mental  effort,  realize  this  ?  Or  will  you  acknow- 
ledge that  even  this  simple  astronomical  subject  i-3  beyond 
your  grasp  ? 

Once  more.  Suppose  the  earth,  and  sun,  and  stars 
were  all  annihilated,  and  one  small  ball  existed  alone  in 
space.  You  can  imagine  this  state  of  things  for  a  mo- 
ment. Now  there  would  be,  a<5  you  well  know,  if  you 
have  the  slightest  astronomical  knowledge,  no  dowm  or 

5* 


106  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  fCh.   G, 

Difficulties  ill  religion  lo  be  expected.  Difficulties  described. 

vp  in  such  case,  for  there  would  be  no  central  body  to 
attract.  Now  when  you  fancy  this  baM,  thus  floating  in 
empty  space,  can  you  realize  that  there  would  be  no  ten- 
dency in  it  to  move  in  one  direction  rather  than  another  ? 
You  may  believe,  on  authority^  that  it  would  not  move, 
but  fix  your  mind  upon  it  for  a  moment,  and  then  look  off 
from  it,  first  in  one  direction,  then  in  another,  until  you 
have  looked  in  every  direction,  and  can  you  make  all  these 
seem  the  same  ?  No,  we  cannot  divest  ourselves  of  the 
impression  that  one  of  these  is  more  properly  up,  and  the 
other  more  properly  down,  though  the  slightest  astrono- 
mical knowledge  will  convince  us  that  this  impression  is 
a  mere  delusion.  Even  this  simple  and  unquestionable 
truth  is  beyond  the  grasp  of  tlie  human  mind,  at  least  un- 
til  after  it  has,  by  very  long  contemplation  on  such  sub- 
jects, divested  itself  of  the  prejudices  of  the  senses. 

Is  it  surprising  then,  that  when  a  revelation  comes  to 
us  from  a  world  which  is  entirely  unseen  and  unknown, 
describing  to  us  in  some  degree  God's  character  and  the 
principles  of  his  government,  there  should  be  many  things 
in  it  which  we  cannot  now  understand  1  No.  There  are, 
and  from  the  nature  of  the  case  must  be,  a  thousand  dif- 
ficulties insuperable  to  us  at  present.  Now  if  we  do  not 
cordially  feel  and  admit  thi'*,  we  shall  waste  much  time 
in  needless  perplexity.  My  object,  in  this  chapter,  is  tO 
convince  all  who  read  it,  that  they  must  expect  to  find  dif- 
ficulties, insuperable  diOJculties  in  the  various  aspects  of 
religious  truth,  and  to  try  to  persuade  you  to  admit  this^, 
and  to  repose  quietly  in  acknowledged  ignorance,  in  thosiJ 
cases  where  the  human  mind  cannot  know.  The  difijcul- 
ties  are  never  questions  of  practical  duty,  and  sometimes 
are  very  remotely  connected  with  any  religious  truth. 
Some  of  them  I  shall  liowever  describe,  not  with  the  de- 
sign of  explaining  thom,  because  I  purposely  collect  such 
as  1  believe  cannot  be  explained  satisfactorily  to  young 
persons,  but  with  the  design  of  bringing  all  cordially  to 


Ch.  6.]  DIFFICULTIES    IN    RELIGION.  107 

Fii-st  difficully.  Attempt  to  avoi  J  it 

feel  that  they  must  be  ignorant,  and  that  they  may  as  well 
acknowledge  their  ignorance  at  once. 

First  difficulty.  It  is  a  common  opinion  that  God  ex- 
isted before  the  creation  of  the  world,  alone  and  unem- 
ployed from  eternity.  Now  the  difficulty  is  this  :  How 
could  a  being  who  was  infinite  in  benevolence  and  power 
waste  all  that  time, when  it  might  have  been  employed 
in  making  millions  and  millions  happy?  The  creation 
was  not  far  from  six  thousand  years  ago,  and  six  thou- 
sand years,  compared  with  the  eternity  beyond,  are  no- 
thing. So  that  it  follows  that  almost  the  whole  of  the 
existence  of  a  benevolent  and  omnipotent  Being,  who  de- 
lights in  doing  good  and  promoting  happiness,  has  been 
spent  in  doing  nothing. 

Perhaps  some  one  will  make  a  feeble  efibrt  to  escape 
from  the  difficulty  by  supposing,  what  is  very  probably 
true,  that  other  worlds  were  created  long  before  this. 
But  let  such  an  one  consider,  that  however  remote  the  first 
creation  may  have  been,  there  is  beyond  it,  so  far  as  we 
can  see,  an  eternity  of  solitude  and  inaction. 

Remember  I  say,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  for  I  am  far 
from  believing  that  Jehovah  has  ever  wasted  time.  I  know 
nothing  about  it ;  I  can  see  and  reason  just  far  enough  to 
perceive  that  the  whole  subject  is  beyond  my  grasp,  and 
I  leave  it,  contented  not  to  know,  and  not  to  pretend  to 
know  any  thing  about  it. 

After  reading  these  remarks  at  one  time  to  an  assem- 
bly of  young  persons,  several  of  them  gathered  around 
me,  and  attempted  to  show  that  there  was  in  fact  no  diffi- 
culty in  this  first  case. 

"Why,"  said  I,  "what  explanation  have  you?'* 

"  I  think,"  was  the  reply,  *'  that  God  might  have  been 
creating  worlds  from  all  eternity,  and  thus  never  have 
been  unemployed." 

"  If  that  had  been  the  case,"  replied  I,  "  would  or  would 
not  some  one  of  these  worlds  have  been  eternaH" 

**  Yep,  sir,"  they  all  answered  with  one  voice. 


108  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  6. 


Conversation.  Second  difficulty. 

'*  Then  you  suppose  that  some  of  these  worlds  were 
eternal  and  others  not.  The  first  which  were  created  had 
no  beginning;  but  after  a  time,  according  to  this  hypo- 
thesis, Jehovah  began  to  create  them  at  definite  periods. 
This  is  evidently  absurd.  Beside,  those  which  were  eter- 
nal must  have  existed  as  long  as  God  has  existed;  and  if 
you  admit  that,  it  seems  that  you  must  admit  that  they 
are  independent  of  God  ;  for  if  they  have  existed  forever, 
they  could  not  have  been  created." 

One  of  the  party  attempted  to  avoid  this  by  saying, 
that  though  the  whole  series  of  creations  has  been  eternal, 
yet  that  every  particular  creation  may  have  been  at  some 
definite  point  of  time  ;  so  that  each  one  world  has  had  but 
a  limited  existence,  though  the  whole  series  has  been 
eternal. 

"  But,"  said  I,  "  can  you  conceive — clearly  conceive — 
of  an  eternal  series  of  creations  of  matter,  without  be- 
lieving that  507W.e  matter  itself  is  eternal?  And  if  you 
suppose  matter  itself  to  be  eternal,  can  you  understand 
how  God  can  have  created  that  which  has  existed  as  long 
as  he  has  himself?" 

This  was  the  substance  of  the  conversation,  which 
however,  in  all  its  details,  occupied  half  an  hour.  And  I 
believe  ail  who  engaged  in  it  cordially  acknowledged  that 
the  whole  subject  was  entirely  beyond  the  grasp  of  their 
minds. 

As  this  book  may  fall  into  the  hands  of  some  theologi- 
cal scholar,  I  beg  tliat  he  will  bear  in  mind  that  I  do  not 
present  this  subject  as  one  that  would  perplex  him,  but 
as  one  which  must  perplex  the  young.  I  maintain  that 
whatever  trained  metaphysicians  may  understand,  or 
fancy  that  they  can  understand,  it  is  entirely  beyond  the 
reach  of  such  minds  as  those  for  whom  this  book  is  in- 
tended. 

Second  difficulty.  When  in  a  still  and  cloudless  sum- 
mer evening  you  have  looked  among  the  stars  of  the  sky, 


Ch.  G.]  DIFFICULTIES    IN    RELIGION  109 

Extent  of  the  creation.  A  star,  a  great  blazing  sun. 

you  have  often  wondered  at  the  almost  boundless  extent 
of  the  creation.  That  faint  star  which  twinkles  so  feebly 
that  you  almost  fear  that  the  next  gentle  breeze  will  ex- 
tinguish it,  or  that  the  next  light  cloud  will  sweep  it  away, 
has  burned  with  the  same  feeble  but  inextinguishable 
beam  ever  since  the  creation.  The  sun  has  blazed  around 
the  heavens — storms  have  agitated  and  wrecked  the 
skies — the  moon  has  waxed  and  waned  over  it;  but  it 
burns  on  the  same.  It  may  be  obscured  by  some  com- 
motion of  the  elements  for  a  time  ;  but  when  cloud  and 
storm  have  passed  away,  you  will  find  it  shining  on  un- 
changed, in  the  same  place,  and  with  the  same  brightness, 
and  with  precisely  the  same  hue  which  it  exhibited  before 
the  flood. 

It  is  a  great  blazing  sun,  burning  at  its  immense  dis- 
tance with  inconceivable  brightness  and  glory,  probably 
surrounded  by  many  worlds  whose  millions  of  inhabit- 
ants are  cheered  by  its  rays.  JNow,  as  you  all  well  know, 
every  star  which  twinkles  in  the  sky,  and  thousands  of 
others  which  the  telescope  alone  brings  to  view,  are  pro- 
bably thus  surrounded  by  life  and  intelligence  and  hap- 
piness in  ten  thousand  forms.  Stand  now  in  a  summer 
evening  under  the  open  sky,  and  with  these  views  esti- 
mate as  largely  as  you  please  the  extent  of  the  creation. 
However  widely  you  may  in  imagination  expand  its  boun- 
daries, still  it  seems  to  human  reason  that  it  must  have  a 
limit.  Now  go  with  me  in  imagination  to  that  limit.  Let 
us  take  our  station  at  the  remotest  star,  and  look  upon 
the  one  side  into  the  regions  which  God  has  filled  with 
intelligence  and  happiness  ;  and  on  the  other  side  into 
the  far  wider  regions  of  gloomy  darkness  and  solitude 
that  lie  beyond.  Make  the  circle  of  the  habitable  uni- 
verse as  large  as  you  will — how  much  more  extensive, 
according  to  any  ideas  of  space  which  we  can  form,  must 
be  the  dreary  waste  beyond  !  The  regions  which  God 
has  filled  by  his  efforts  and  plans  dwindle  to  a  little  fer- 


llO  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Cll.  6. 

Third  difficulty.  Existence  of  suffering 

tile  island  in  the  midst  of  a  boundless  ocean.  But  why 
is  this?  "Who  can  explain  or  understand  how  a  Being, 
boundless  in  power  and  desirous  of  promoting  the  great- 
est possible  amount  of  enjoyment,  can  leave  so  immense 
a  portion  unoccupied,  and  confine  all  his  efforts  to  a  re- 
gion which,  though  immense  to  our  conceptions,  is,  after 
all,  but  a  little  spot, — a  mere  point,  compared  with  the 
boundless  expanse  around? 

Now,  I  by  no  means  believe  that  there  is  such  an  im- 
rnense  void  as  my  reasoning  seems  to  prove  there  must 
be.  My  object  is  to  show  that  in  these  subjects  which  are 
beyond  our  grasp,  we  may  reason  plausibly,  and  only 
plunge  ourselves  in  difficulties  without  end.  Therefore 
on  such  subjects  I  distrust  all  reasoning.  I  never  reason^ 
except  for  the  purpose  of  showing  how  utterly  the  sub- 
ject is  beyond  our  grasp;  and  in  regard  to  such  questions, 
I  have  no  opinion ;  I  believe  nothing,  and  disbelieve 
nothing. 

Third  difhculty.  The  existence  of  suffering.  It  seems 
to  me  that  the  human  mind  is  utterly  incapable  of  ex- 
plaining how  suffering  can  find  its  way  into  any  world 
which  is  under  the  control  of  a  benevolent  and  an  om- 
nipotent God.  If  he  is  benevolent,  he  will  desire  to  avoid 
all  suffering ;  and  if  he  is  omnipotent,  he  will  be  able  to  do 
it.  Now  this  reasoning  seems  to  be  a  perfect  moral  de- 
monstration ;  no  person  can  reply  to  it.  Some  one  may 
faintly  say,  that  the  suffering  we  witness  is  the  means  of 
producing  a  higher  general  good;  and  then  I  have  only 
to  ask, — But  why  could  not  an  omnipotent  Being  secure 
the  higher  good  withovt  the  suffering?  And  it  is  a  ques- 
tion which  it  seems  to  me  no  man  can  answer.  The  only 
rational  course  which  we  can 'take  is  to  say,  sincerely  and 
cordially,  we  do  not  know.  We  are  just  commencing  our 
existence,  just  beginning  to  think  and  to  reason  about 
our  Creator's  plans,  and  we  must  expect  to  find  hundreds 
of  subjects  which  we  cannot  understand. 


Ch.  6.]  DIFFICULTIES    IN    RELIGION.  Ill 

The  existence  of  sulfering  inexplicable.  The  piraln  condenuicd  to  die. 

Fourth  difficulty.  Human  accountability.  Instead  of 
calling  this  a  difficulty,  I  ought  to  cull  it  a  cluster  of  diffi- 
culties; for  unanswerable  questions  may  be  raised  without 
end  out  of  this  subject. 

Look  at  yonder  gloomy  procession.  In  the  cart  there 
sits  a  man  who  has  been  convicted  of  piracy  and  murder 
npon  the  high  seas,  and  he  is  condemned  to  die.  Now 
that  man  was  taught  from  his  youth  to  be  a  robber  and 
a  murderer;  he  was  trained  up  to  blood  ;  conscience  did 
doubtless  remonstrate  ;  there  was  a  law  written  on  his 
heart  which  condemned  him  ;  but  he  was  urged  on  by  his 
companions,  and  perhaps  by  his  very  fatJicr,  to  stifle  its 
voice.  Had  he  been  born  and  brouglit  up  in  a  Christian 
land  with  a  kind  Christian  parent,  and  surrounded  by  the 
influences  of  the  Bible,  and  the  church,  and  the  Sabbath 
school,  he  would  undoubtedly  never  have  committed  the 
deed.  Shall  he  then  be  executed  for  a  crime  which,  had 
he  been  in  our  circumstances,  he  would  not  have  com- 
mitted ;  and  which  his  very  judge  perhaps  would  have 
been  guilty  of,  had  he  been  exposed  to  the  temptations 
which  overwhelmed  the  prisoner? 

In  a  multitude  of  books  on  metaphysics,  the  following 
train  of  reasoning  is  presented.  The  human  mind,  as  it 
comes  from  the  hand  of  the  Creator,  is  endued  with  cer- 
tain susceptibilities  to  be  affected  by  external  objects.  For 
instance,  an  ivjury  awakens  resentment  in  every  mind. 
The  heart  is  so  constituted,  that  when  the  youngest  child 
receives  an  injury  which  it  can  understand,  a  feeling  of 
resentment  comes  up  in  his  breast.  It  need  not  have 
been  so.  We  might  unquestionably  have  been  so  formed 
that  mere  compassion  for  the  guilt  of  the  individual  who 
had  inflicted  it,  or  a  simple  desire  to  remove  the  sufferings 
or  any  other  feeling  whatever,  might  rise.  But  God  de- 
cided, when  he  formed  our  minds,  what  should  be  their 
tendencies. 

He  has  not  only  decided  upon  the  constitutional  ten 


112  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  6. 

Accountability.  Foreknowledge. 

dencies  of  the  mind,  but  has  arranged  all  the  ciraumstances 
to  which  each  individual  is  to  be  exposed;  and  these,  so 
far  as  we  can  see,  constitute  the  whole  which  affects  the 
formation  of  character — the  original  tendencies  and  the 
circumstances  of  life  by  which  they  are  developed  or  re- 
strained. God  has  therefore  the  whole  control  in  the 
formation  of  the  character  of  every  individual.    , 

This  seems,  at  least  to  a  great  many  minds,  perfect 
demonstration  ;  there  is  no  evading  it ;  and  it  brings  us 
at  once  to  that  greatest  of  all  questions  in  physics  or  me- 
taphysics, in  the  whole  circle  of  human  inquiry — a  ques- 
tion which  has  causeil  more  disputes,  destroyed  more 
Christian  peace  of  mind,  given  rise  to  more  vain  systems 
formed  by  philosophical  attempts  to  evade  the  difficulty, 
than  almost  any  other  question  whatever  :  How  can  man 
be  accountable,  when  God  has  had  such  entire  control  in 
the  formation  of  his  character  ? 

1  know  that  some  among  my  readers  will  think  that  I 
make  the  difriculty  greater  than  it  is.  They  will  think 
they  can  see  much  to  lighten  it,  and  will  perhaps  deny 
some  of  my  assumptions.  Of  such  an  one  I  v/ould  sim- 
ply ask,  were  he  before  me — after  having  heard  all  he 
should  have  to  say  on  the  subject — "Can  you,  sir,  after 
al],  honestly  say  that  you  understand,  clearly  understand, 
how  man  can  be  fully  accountable,  and  yet  his  heart  be 
as  much  under  divine  control  as  you  suppose  it  is  ?  Eve- 
ry honest  man  will  acknowledge  that  he  is  often,  in  his 
thoughts  on  this  subject,  lost  in  perplexity,  and  forced  to 
admit  the  narrow  limit  of  the  human  powers. 
(  But  again.  No  one  denies  that  God  foreknows  perfect- 
ly every  thing  that  happens.  Now  suppose  a  father  were 
to  say  to  his  child,  "  My  son,  you  are  going  to  a  scene  of 
temptation  to-Cay,  you  will  be  exposed  to  some  injury, 
and  will  be  in  danger  of  using  some  harsh  and  resentful 
words.  Now  I  wish  you  to  be  careful.  Bear  injury  pa- 
tiently, and  do  not  use  opprobrious  language  in  return." 


Ch.  6.]  DIFFICULTIES    IN    RELIGION.  113 

Story  of  fallierand  son.  God  foreknows  all  things. 

All  this  would  be  very  well ;  but  suppose  that  in  addi- 
tion the  father  were  to  say,  "  My  son,  I  have  contrived 
to  ascertain  what  you  will  say,  and  I  have  written  here 
upon  this  paper  every  word  you  will  utter  to-day." 

*'  Every  word  yoa  think  1  shall  speak,  you  mean,'* 
says  the  boy. 

"  No,"  says  the  father,  "  every  word  you  will  speak ; 
they  are  all  written  exactly.  I  have  by  some  mysterious 
means  ascertained  them,  and  here  they  are.  And  it  is 
absolutely  certain  that  you  will  speak  every  thing  which 
is  written  here,  and  not  a  syllable  beside." 

Could  any  boy  after  such  a  statement,  go  away  believ- 
ing what  his  father  had  said,  and  yet  feeling  that  he  him- 
self could  be,  notwithstanding,  free  to  act  and  speak  that 
day  as  he  pleased  ?* 

Now  God  knows,  as  all  will  acknowledge,  every  thing 
which  will  take  place,  just  as  certainly  as  if  it  were  writ- 
ten. The  mere  fact  of  expressing  it  in  language  would 
make  no  difference.  We  may  consider  our  future  con 
duct  to  be  as  clearly  known,  and  as  certain,  as  if  our  his- 
tories were  minutely  written  ;  and  where  is  the  man  (with 
perhaps  the  exception  of  a  few  who  have  made  metaphy- 
sical philosophy  a  study  for  years)  who  will  not  acknow- 
ledge that  this  truth,  which  nobody  will  deny,  throws  a 
little  perplexity  over  his  mind  when  he  looks  at  that 
boundless  moral  freedom  and  entire  accountability  which 
the  Bible  and  human  consciousness  both  attribute  to  man. 

*  Let  it  be  remembered  that  I  am  writing  for ///eyoinzo',  and  am  enu- 
merating difficulties  insuperable  to  them.  A  mind  long  accustomed  to 
the  accuracy  of  metaphysical  inquiries  will  see  that  the  antecedent 
certainty  of  any  act  proves  only  the  greatness  of  tho  intellect  which 
can  foresee  it. — it  has  nothing  to  do  with  tlie  Ireedoni  of  tlie  moral 
agent  by  which  it  is  performed.  If  any  one  supposes  (hat  there  is  no 
great  difficulty/or //je  j/owng'  in  this  subject,  let  him  try  to  convince  an 
intelligent  boy,  that,  under  such  circumstances  as  are  above  described, 
he  could  be  free  to  speak  gently  or  angrily,  solely  according  to  his 
own  free  will. 


114  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  6. 

Imaginary  coiivei-sation  with  an  Infidel.  Sixth  difficulty. 

Fifth  difficulty.  It  is  common  to  prove  the  existence 
of  God  from  his  works  in  the  following  manner  :  We  see 
created  objects  ;  they  must  have  had  a  cause,  for  nothing 
can  arise  out  of  nothing.  There  must  have  been,  there- 
fore, some  great  first  cause,  which  we  call  God. 

Now  this  reasoning  is  very  plausible ;  but  suppose  the 
infidel  to  whom  you  present  it  should  say,  *'  But  what 
brought  God  into  existence?" 

You  answer,  '*He  is  uncaused^ 

*'  Very  well,"  he  replies,  *'  then  he  came  from  nothing; 
so  that  it  seems  something  can  come  from  nothing." 

"No,"  you  reply,  **  he  existed  from  eternity." 

"And  I  suppose,"  replies  the  Atheist,  "  that  the  world 
has  existed  uncaused  from  all  eternity  ;  and  why  is  not  my 
supposition  as  good  as  yours  ?  There  are  no  more  marks 
of  design  in  the  structure  of  this  earth,  than  there  are  in 
the  nicely  balanced  and  adjusted  powers  and  attributes  of 
Jehovah." 

Now  this  does  not  shake  my  confidence  in  the  bemg 
of  a  God.  Notwithstanding  the  difficulty  of  reasoning  with 
an  infidel  who  is  determined  not  to  be  convinced,  the 
proofs  from  marks  of  design  are  conclusive  to  every  un- 
biassed mind.  We  know  there  is  a  God — every  man  knows 
there  is;  though  they  who  are  resolved  to  break  his  laws, 
sometimes  vainly  seek  shelter  in  a  denial  of  his  existence : 
like  the  foolish  child  who,  when  at  midnight  the  thunder- 
storm rages  in  the  skies,  buries  his  face  in  his  pillow, 
and  fancies  that  he  finds  protection  from  the  forked  light- 
ning by  just  shutting  his  eyes  to  its  glare.  No  ;  it  only 
shakes  mv  confidence  in  all  abstract  reasonings  upon  sub- 
jects which  are  beyond  my  grasp. 

Sixth  difficulty.  How  can  God  really  answer  prayer 
without  in  fact  miraculously  interrupting  the  course  of 
nature?  That  God  does  answer  prayer  by  an  exertion  of 
his  power  in  cases  to  which  human  influence  does  not 
reach,  seems  evident  from  the  following  passage  :  "  The 


Ch.  6.]  DIFFICULTIES    IN    RELIGION.  115 

Answering  prayer.  Case  supposed. 

effectual  fervent  prayer  of  a  righteous  man  availcth 
much.  Elias  was  a  man  subject  to  like  passions  as  we 
are,  and  he  prayed  earnestly  that  it  might  not  rain,  and 
it  rained  not  on  the  earth  by  the  space  of  three  years  and 
six  months.  And  he  prayed  again,  and  the  heaven  gave 
rain,  and  the  earth  brought  forth  her  fruit."  James,  5  :  16, 
17,  18.  Now  if  the  natural  eflect  of  prayer  as  an  exer- 
cise of  the  heart  were  all,  this  illustration  would  be  alto- 
gether inappropriate.  It  must  teach  that  the  prayers  of 
men  will  have  an  influence  with  Jehovah^  so  that  he  shall 
order,  differently  from  what  he  otherwise  would  do, 
events  beyond  human  control.  Now  how  can  this  in  fact 
be  done  without  a  miracle?  A  miracle  is  nothing  more 
than  an  interruption  of  the  ordinary  course  of  nature. 
Now  if  the  ordinary  course  of  nature  would  in  any  case 
bring  us  what  we  ask,  it  is  plain  we  do  not  owe  it  to  God's 
answering  prayer.  If  the  regular  course  of  nature  would 
not  bring  it,  then  it  seems  that  God  cannot  grant  the 
request  without  interrupting  more  or  less  that  course, 
and  this  is  a  miracle.  Tliis  reasoning  appears  simple 
enough,  and  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  the  conclusion  can 
be  avoided. 

But  to  make  the  point  plainer,  let  me  suppose  a  case. 
A  mother,  whose  son  is  sick  in  a  foreign  port,  asks  for 
prayers  in  a  seaman's  chapel,  that  he  may  be  restored  to 
health  and  returned  in  safety.  The  young  man  is  per- 
haps ten  thousand  miles  from  home.  The  prayer  can 
have  no  power  to  put  in  operation  any  earthly  cause 
which  can  reach  him.  If  it  reaches  him  at  all,  it  must  be 
through  the  medium  of  the  Creator. 

Now  we  are  compelled  to  believe,  if  we  believe  the 
Bible,  that  the  prayer  will  in  all  ordinary  cases  have  an 
influence.  The  efficacy  of  prayer,  in  such  cases  as  this, 
is  so  universally  taught  in  the  Bible,  that  we  cannot  doubt 
it  and  yet  retain  that  volume  as  our  guide.  But  how  can 
God  answer  this  prayer  without,  in  reality,  interfering 


116  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Cll.    5. 

The  sick  son.  Miraculous  interference  in  answering  prayer. 

miraculously  with  the  laws  of  nature?  If  the  young  man 
would  have  recovered  without  it,  then  his  restoration 
cannot  very  honestly  be  said  to  be  in  answer  to  prayer. 
If  he  recovers,  when,  without  the  prayer,  he  would  have 
died,  then  it  seems  very  plain  that  God  must  interfere 
somewhere  to  interrupt  what  would  have  been  the  ordi- 
nary course  of  nature;  he  must  arrest  supernaturally 
the  progress  of  the  disease,  or  give  to  medicine  an  effi- 
cacy which,  without  his  special  interference,  it  would 
not  have  possessed  ;  or  suggest  to  his  physician  a  course 
of  treatment  which  the  ordinary  laws  of  thought  would 
not  have  presented  to  his  mind;  either  of  which,  accord- 
ing to  any  philosophical  definition,  is  a  miracle. 

Now  undoubtedly  God,  in  some  secret  way  that  we 
cannot  now  understand,  can,  without  disturbing  the  laws 
of  nature,  grant  our  requests.  The  difficulty  is  merely 
one  to  our  limited  powers;  but  to  these  powers  it  is  in- 
surmountable. 

I  might  go  on  Vvith  such  an  enumeration  to  an  inde 
finite  length;  but  I  have,  I  hope,  already  brought  up 
points  enough  ;  and  let  my  reader  remember  that  it  is 
not  necessary  for  my  purpose,  tliat  he  should  admit  that 
all  these  questions  are  beyond  the  grasp  of  his  mind.  It 
is  enough  for  my  present  object,  that  each  one  will  admit 
that  some  of  them  are.  One  will  say  that  he  can  under- 
stand the  subject  of  God's  answering  prayer  ;  another 
will  think  there^is  no  difficulty  in  regard  to  God's  fore- 
knowledge of  human  actions  ;  and  thus  every  reader  will 
perhaps  find  some  one  of  these  which  he  thinks  he  un- 
derstands. But  will  not  all  acknowledge  that  there  are 
some  which  he  cannot  understand?  If  so,  he  will  cor- 
dially foel  that  there  are  subjects  connected  with  import- 
ant religious  truth,  which  are  beyond  the  grasp  of  the 
human  mind,  and  this  conviction  is  what  I  have  been 
endeavoring  to  establish. 

The  real  difficulties  which  I  have  brought  to  view  in  the 


Ch.  6.]  DIFFICULTIES    IN    RELIGION.  117 

Sources  of  difficulty.  Algebra.  The  surA 

preceding  pages  are  few.  They  are  only  brought  up 
again  and  again  in  different  forms,  that  they  might  be 
more  clearly  seen.  Eternal  duration  ;  infinite  space;  the 
nature  of  moral  agency; — these  are  the  fountains  of  per- 
plexity from  which,  in  various  way.^,  I  have  drawn  in  this 
chapter.  They  are  subjects  which  the  human  mind  can- 
not grasp,  and  they  involve  in  difficulty  every  proposi- 
tion of  which  they  form  an  element.  You  may  remove 
the  difficulty  from  one  part  of  the  ground  to  the  other, 
you  may  conceal  it  by  sophistry,  you  may  obscure  it  by 
declamation  ;  but,  after  all  that  you  have  done,  it  will  re- 
main a  difficulty  still,  and  the  acute  and  candid  mind  will 
see  its  true  character  through  all  the  forms  in  which  you 
may  attempt  to  disguise  it.  The  disputes  and  the  theo- 
rizing with  which  the  theological  world  is  filled  on  the 
subject  of  moral  agency  for  example, — the  vain  attempts 
to  form  some  philosophical  theory  which  will  explain  the 
subject,  remind  me  of  the  labors  of  a  school-boy  endeavor- 
ing to  solve  an  equation  containing  one  irrational  term. 
He  transposes  the  troublesome  surd  from  one  side  to  the 
other, — he  multiplies  and  divides  it, — he  adds  to  it  and 
subtracts  from  it, — he  tries  involution  and  evolution  upon 
it;  but,  notwithstanding  every  metamorphosis,  it  remains 
a  surd  still  ;  and  though  he  may  have  lost  sight  of  it  him- 
self by  throwing  it  into  some  complicated  multinomial 
expression,  the  practised  mathematician  will  see,  by  a 
glance  of  the  eye,  that  an  insuperable  difficulty  is  there. 
So  these  great  moral  subjects  contain  intrinsic  and  in- 
surmountable difficulties,  which  it  is  most  philosophical  to 
acknowledge,  not  to  deny  or  conceal.  We  ought  to  be 
willing  to  remain  in  a  measure  ignorant  on  such  subjects, 
if  we  can  only  distinctly  know  our  duty.  It  is  indeed  best 
in  ordinary  cases  to  look  into  the  subject, — to  examine  it 
carefully,  so  as  to  find  where  the  difficulty  is — see  what 
firm  ground  we  have  all  around  it,  and  let.  the  region  of 
uncertainty  and  ignorance  be  circumscribed  by  a  definite 


118  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  G. 

Distinction  hetweeii  llieorctical  and  practical  difficulties. 

boundary.  But  when  this  is  done,  look  calmly  upon  the 
surface  of  the  deep  which  you  know  you  cannot  sound, 
and  acknowledge  the  linriit  of  your  powers  with  a  humble 
and  quiet  spirit. 

In  order  to  avoid  that  mental  anxiety  which  the  con« 
tcmplation  of  insurmountable  difliculty  is  calculated  to 
awaken,  it  is  well  to  make  a  broad  and  constant  distinc- 
tion between  a  theoretical  and  practical  question.  The 
inquiry  what  duty  is,  is  in  every  case  a  practical  question. 
The  principles  upon  which  that  duty  is  required  form  of- 
ten a  mere  question  of  theory  into  which  it  is  of  no  im- 
portance that  we  should  enter.  Shall  the  Sabbath  com- 
mence on  Saturday  eveninir  or  on  Sunday  morning? 
That  is  a  practical  difliculty.  Your  decision  of  it  will  af- 
fect your  practice  at  once.  "Why  did  God  appoint  one 
day  in  seven,  rather  than  one  in  six,  or  one  in  eight,  for 
holy  time?"  That  is  just  as  |)lainly  theoretical.  Now  al- 
most every  question  relating  to  the  reasons  which  influ- 
ence the  Creator  in  his  dealings  with  men — every  one  in 
regard  to  the  essence  of  his  character,  the  constitution  of 
man  as  a  moral  being,  and  the  ground  of  his  obligations 
to  God,  the  princi})les  by  which  the  magnitude  and  the 
duration  of  future  punishments  arc  fixed — these  are  all 
theoretical  questions.  If  we  believe  the  j)lain  declara- 
tions of  the  Bible  in  regard  to  the  facts  on  these  sub- 
jects, those  facts  will  indeed  influence  our  conduct,  but 
we  may  safely  leave  the  theory  to  Him  who  has  the  re- 
sponsibility of  reigning  in  the  universe. 

Take  for  instance  the  question  of  future  punishment. 
There  is  a  great  deal  of  speculation  on  what  ought  and 
what  ought  not  to  be  done  with  impenitent  sinners  who 
continue  in  sin  during  their  period  of  probation.  But 
what  reasonable  man,  who  will  reflect  a  moment,  can  ima- 
gine that  any  human  mind  can  take  in  such  a  view  of 
God's  administration  as  to  enable  it  really  to  grasp  this 
question^  What  power   can  comprehend  so  fully  the  na. 


Ch.  6.]  DIFFICULTIES    IN    RELIGION.  119 

Puiiisliinent  of  the  ereinies  of  God  Scripture  diftiniUies. 

ture  and  the  consequences  of  sin  and  punishment, — not 
for  a  few  years  only,  hut  forever ;  and  not  upon  a  few 
minds  only,  but  upon  the  universe,  as  to  be  able  to  form 
cny  opinion  at  all  in  regard  to  the  course  wliich  the 
Supreme  ought  to  lake  in  the  punishment  of  sin?  Why, 
the  noisy,  riotous  tenants  of  a  crowded  jail-room  are  far 
more  capable  of  discussing  the  principles  of  penal  juris- 
prudence than  we  are  of  forming  any  opinion,  upon  ab- 
stract grounds,  of  the  proper  extent  and  duration  of  future 
punisliment.  The  jailor  would  say  to  his  prisoners,  if 
they  remonstrated  with  liim  on  the  severity  of  their  sen- 
tence, *'  The  law  decides  this  question  ;  wo  have  nothiti"" 
to  do  with  it;  the  law  will  be  executed."  And  so,  if  a  man 
should  attempt  to  reason  with  me,  to  prove,  on  abstract 
grounds,  that  eternal  or  that  limited  punishment  is  the  just 
one;  might  I  not  say  to  him,  "  Sir,  why  do  you  perplex 
me  with  the  question  of  the  punishment  of  tlie  enemies  of 
God?  I  have  not  that  punishment  to  assign.  God  says  that 
the  wicked  shall  go  away  into  everlasting  punislmient.  He 
has  decided.  I  cannot  stand  on  the  eminence  which  he 
occupies,  and  see  what  led  him  to  this  decision.  My  only 
duly  is  to  believe  what  he  says,  and  to  escape  as  swiftly 
as  I  can  to  the  refuge  from  that  storm.'* 

Nine  tenths  of  the  difficulties  which  beset  the  paths 
of  young  Christians  would  be  avoided  by  such  a  spirit 
as  this — by  our  taking  God's  decisions,  and  spending 
our  strength  in  performing  the  practical  duties  which 
arise  from  them,  and  leaving  the  grounds  of  those  de- 
cisions with  him. 

This  principle  may  be  applied  in  a  multitude  of  cases 
in  which  Scripture  declarations  arc  a  ground  of  doubt 
and  difficulty  to  Christians.  "Work  out  your  own  sal- 
vation with  fear  and  trembling,  for  it  is  God  that  worketh 
in  you  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  good  pleasure."  So 
far  as  this  text  is  considered  in  its  practical  aspects, 
how  plain  and   simple  it  is ;  and  yet  how  easy  to  lose 


liJO  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  6, 


Comparative  power  of  God  and  man  in  Ihe  human  heart. 

ourselves  in  the  theoretical  speculations  to  which  it  may 
give  rise.  The  duties  it  requires,  are  plain  and  simple. 
Make  eflbrt  yourself  with  patient  fidelity,  but  feel  at  the 
same  time  a  humble  sense  of  your  dependence  upon 
God.  The  theory  r.pon  which  these  two  duties  are  found* 
ed  is  lost  in  obscurity  which  the  human  mind  cannot 
penetrate. 

The  words  "  work  out,"  &c.  seem  to  imply  that  the 
power  necessary  to  change  the  heart  rests  with  man, 
while  the  latter  part  of  the  verse,  "  for  it  is  God,"  &c. 
seems  to  attribute  it  to  God.  How  is  this?  what  degree 
of  agency  has  man  himself  in  the  production  of  those 
holy  feelings  which  the  BiWe  represents  as  necessary  to 
salvaiion,  and  what  part  devolves  upon  the  Creator? 
This  is  a  question  which,  as  has  been  already  remarked, 
has  come  up  in  a  thousand  forms.  It  has  been  the  foun- 
dation of  many  a  captious  cavil,  as  well  as  of  many  an 
honest  doubt.  If  the  Bible  had  taught  us  that  man 
alone  had  power  over  his  conduct,  so  as  to  be  entirely 
independent  of  an  over-ruling  hand,  we  could  understand 
it.  Or  if  it  had  maintained  that  God  reigned  in  the  hu- 
man heart,  and  controlled  its  emotions  and  feelings  to 
such  an  extent  as  to  free  man  from,  the  responsihiUty, 
this  too  would  be  plain.  But  it  takes  neither  of  these 
grounds.  In  some  passages  it  plainly  teaches  us  that  all 
the  responsibility  of  human  conduct  rests  upon  the  indi- 
vidual being  who  exhibits  it.  In  other  places  we  are  in- 
formed that  the  great  God  is  supreme  in  the  moral  as  in 
the  material  world,  and  that  he  turns  the  hearts  of  men 
as  surely  and  as  easily  as  the  rivers  of  water.  And  these 
two  truths,  so  perplexing  to  philosophy,  are  brought,  by 
a  moral  daring  for  which  the  Bible  is  remarkable,  direct- 
ly side  by  side  in  the  passage  before  us.  There  is  no 
softening  of  language  to  obscure  the  distinctness  of  the 
difficulty — there  are  no  terms  of  limitation  to  bring  it 
in  within  narrow  bounds — there  is  no  interpretation  to 


Ch.  6.]  DIFFICULTIES    IN    RELIGION.  121 

IXifficulty  theoretical.  None  in  practice. 

explain,  no  qualifications  to  modify.  But  it  stands  fair 
and  legible,  and  unalterable,  upon  the  pages  of  the  word 
of  God,  saying  to  us  in  language  which  we  cannot  mis- 
understand— you  must  make  active  and  earnest  efforts 
yourselves  in  the  pursuit  of  holiness — and  you  must 
still  submit  to  the  power  that  rules  in  your  heart,  and 
look  for  assistance  to  God,  who  works  in  you  to  will 
and  to  do. 

It  ought  however  to  be  said  again  and  again,  that  the 
difficulty  is  not  a  practical,  but  a  theoretical  one.  There 
is  no  difficulty  in  making  the  efforts  required  by  the  for- 
mer part  of  the  passage,  and  at  the  same  time  in  feeling 
the  dependence  on  God  required  in  the  latter.  The  dif- 
ficulty is  in  understanding  the  principle  upon  which  the 
two  are  founded.  It  seems  to  me  that  this  is  a  very  fun- 
damental point.  Persons  seeking,  or  thinking  that  they 
are  seeking  to  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  are  often 
encumbered  with  these  very  difficulties.  They  cannot 
understand  the  comparative  influence  which  God  and 
man  have  over  the  human  heart,  and  hence  they  remain 
at  a  stand,  not  knowing  what  to  do.  They  forget  that 
the  difficulty,  great  as  it  is,  is  one  o{  speculation,  not  of 
action,  and  therefore  they  ought  not  to  waste  a  thought 
upon  it,  until  at  least  they  have  made  peace  with  God. 
Two  separate  duties  are  required.  We  can  understand 
ihem  well  enough — and  they  are  not  inconsistent  with 
each  other.  Exert  yourselves  to  the  utmost  in  seeking 
salvation.  What  difficulty  is  there  in  this  ?  Place  all 
your  hope  of  success  in  God.  What  difficulty  is  there 
in  this  ?  And  what  difficulty  is  there  in  making  exertion 
ourselves,  and  feeling  reliance  on  God  at  the  same  time? 
There  is  none.  It  has  been  done  a  thousand  times.  It 
is  doing  by  thousands  now.  It  can  be  done  by  all.  But 
we  cannot  understand,  it  may  be  said,  the  principle 
upon  which  these  two  duties  are  enjoined.  True,  we 
cannot  understand  it.     The  theory  is  involved  in  dark- 

6 


122  YOUNG     CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   6. 

Objects  of  this  chapter.         1.  Inquirers.         Disobedient  school-boy. 

ness  ;  in  which  any  who  choose  may  easily  lose  them- 
selves. But  the  duties  are  plain.  God  has  enjoined 
them,  and,  as  dutiful  children,  wc  ought  to  feel  that  ii 
he  clearly  tells  us  what  we  are  to  do,  he  may  properly 
conceal  in  many  cases  the  reasons  of  liis  requirements. 

There  are  three  or  four  very  common  evils,  which,  by 
taking  up  the  subject  of  this  chapter  so  formally,  I  have 
been  wishing  to  remove.     I  will  mention  them. 

1.  The  useless  perplexity  of  religious  inquirers.  A 
young  person,  perliaps  one  of  my  readers,  is  almost  per- 
suaded to  be  a  Christian.  You  reflect  upon  your  lost  con- 
dition as  a  sinner,  and  feel  desolate  and  unhappy.  You 
think  of  God's  goodness  to  you,  and  are  half  inclined  to 
come  to  him.  Instead,  however,  of  thinking  only  of  your 
duty,  and  spending  all  your  strength  in  resisting  tempta- 
tion, and  in  commencing  a  life  of  practical  piety,  you  im- 
mediately sieze  upon  some  theoretical  difliculty  connect- 
ed with  theology  and  trouble  yourself  about  that.  Per- 
haps you  cannot  understand  how  God  influences  the  hu- 
man heart,  or  how  man  can  be  accountable  if  the  Holy 
Spirit  alone  sanctifies.  "  How  can  I  work  out  my  own 
salvation,"  you  say,  '•  if  it  is  God  who  worketh  in  me  to 
will  and  to  do?"  Or  perhaps  you  perpkx  your  head 
about  the  magnitude  or  duration  of  future  punishment, 
or  the  number  who  will  be  saved,  as  though  the  admi- 
nistration of  Jehovah's  government  would  come  upon  your 
shoulders  if  you  became  a  Christian,  and  you  must  there- 
fore understand  thoroughly  its  principles  before  you  in- 
cur such  a  responsibility.  How  absurd  !  Can  you  not 
trust  God  to  manage  his  own  empire,  at  least  until  after 
you  have  come  yourself  fully  over  to  his  side  ? 

Suppose  a  child  were  to  show  a  disobedient  and  rebel- 
lious spirit  in  school,  and  should  be  called  upon  by  his 
teacher  to  reform,  and  should,  after  pausing  a  moment, 
begin  to  say,  "  I  ought  to  conduct  diflferently,  I  know,  and 


Ch.  6.]  DIFFICULTIES    IN    RELIGION.  123 

Present  duty  neglected  by  speculating  on  what  may  never  take  place. 

I  think  seriously  of  returning  to  my  duty.  But  there  are 
some  things  about  it  which  1  do  not  understand." 

"  What  things?"  says  the  teacher. 

"  Why,"  says  the  boy,  "  I  do  not  see  what  I  should  do 
if  you  and  my  father  were  to  command  me  to  do  oppo- 
site things.  I  do  not  clearly  understand  whom  I  ought 
to  obey." 

"  Do  you  not  know,"  replies  he  teacher,  '*  that  you  now 
disobey  me  in  cases  where  your  father  and  myself  both 
wish  you  to  obey  ?  Come  and  do  your  duty  in  these. 
You  have  nothing  to  do  with  such  a  question  as  you  men- 
tion.    Come  and  do  your  duty." 

"  But,"  says  the  boy,  "  there  is  another  great  difficul- 
ty, which  I  never  could  understand.  Suppose  my  father 
or  you  should  command  me  to  do  something  wrong  ;  then 
I  should  be  bound  to  obey  my  father,  and  also  bound  not 
to  do  what  is  wrong.  Now  I  cannot  understand  what  I 
ought  to  do  in  such  a  case." 

Thus  he  goes  on.  Instead  of  returning  immediately  to 
the  right  path,  beconiing  a  dutiful  son  and  a  docile  pupil 
at  once,  in  the  thousand  plain  cases  which  are  every  day 
occurring,  he  looks  every  way  in  search  of  difficulties 
with  which  he  hopes  to  perplex  his  teacher  and  excuse 
his  neglect  of  duty. 

Speculating  inquirer,  are  you  not  doing  the  same  ? 
when  it  is  most  plainly  your  duty  to  begin  to  love  God 
and  serve  him  at  once  in  the  thousand  plain  instances 
which  occur  daily,  instead  of  doing  it  with  all  your  heart, 
trusting  in  God  that  he  will  do  right, — do  you  not  search 
through  the  whole  administration  of  his  government  for 
fancied  difficulties — difficulties  to  your  feeble  powers — 
feeble  originally,  but  rendered  feebler  still  by  your  con- 
tinuance in  sin  ?  With  these  difficulties  you  embarrass 
yourself,  and  strive  to  perplex  your  minister,  or  your 
Sabbath  school  teacher,  or  your  parent,  and  thus  find  a 
momentary  respite  from  the  reproaches  of  a  wounded 


124  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  6. 

2.  Perplexities  of  Christians.  Way  ta  avoid  them. 

spirit  by  carrying  the  war  away  from  your  own  conscience, 
which  is  the  proper  field,  into  your  pastor^s  or  your  pa- 
rent's intellect.  While  llie  argument  is  going  on  here, 
your  sense  of  guilt  subsides,  conscience  is  seared,  and  you 
fall  back  to  coldness  and  hardness  of  heart.  Now  why 
will  you  thus  waste  your  time  and  your  moral  strength 
on  questions  in  regard  to  which  you  have  no  responsibil- 
ity, instead  of  walking  in  the  plain  path  of  duty,  which 
lies  open  before  you  ? 

2.  Useless  perplexities  of  a  Christian.  In  bringing 
op  to  view  so  plainly  the  insuperable  difficulties  con- 
nected witli  religious  truth,  I  have  been  hoping  to  divert 
the  minds  of  experienced  Christians  from  being  perplexed 
and  embarrassed  by  them.  Orw.c  make  up  your  mind, 
fully  and  cordially,  that  there  are  depths  which  the 
sounding  line  of  your  intellect  will  not  reach,  and  you 
will  repose  in  the  conviction  that  you  do  not  and  cannot 
now  know,  with  a  peace  of  mind  which  you  cannot  in 
eny  other  v/ay  secure.  How  many  persons  perplex  them- 
selves again  and  again,  and  go  on  perplexing  themselves 
all  through  life  in  fruitless  endeavors  to  understand  tho- 
roughly the  precise  and  exact  relation  which  Jesus  Christ 
bears  to  the  Father.  The  Bible  gives  us,  clearly,  and  in 
simple  and  definite  language,  all  about  the  Savior  which 
it  is  of  practical  importance  for  us  to  know.  The  Word 
was  God,  and  the  Word  became  flesh,  or  man.  Now  just 
be  willing  to  stop  here.  "  But  no,"  says  some  one  who 
loves  his  Savior,  and  wishes  to  understand  his  character, 
*'  I  want  to  have  clear  ideas  on  this  subject ;  I  want  to 
know  precisehj  what  relation  he  sustained  to  the  Father 
before  he  became  man.  Was  he  in  all  respects  identical? 
or  was  he  a  different  being,  or  a  diflferent  person  ;  and 
what  is  the  difference  between  a  person  and  a  being  ? 
When  he  became  man,  I  want  to  know  precisely  how  the 
two  natures  came  together." 

"  You  want  to  know ;  but  how  will  you  ascertain  ? 


Ch.  6.]  DIFFICULTIES    IN    RELIGION.  125 

Plausible  reasoning  sometimes  unsafe.  Scholars  in  Geometry. 

Does  the  Bible  tell  you  ?  It  tells  you  that  your  Savior 
was  God,  and  that  he  became  man.  If  you  rest  upon  the 
Bible,  you  must  stop  here.  Will  you  trust  to  your  own 
speculations  ?  Will  you  build  up  inferences  upon  what 
the  Bible  states  ;  and  think,  if  you  are  cautious  in  your 
reasoning,  you  can  be  safe  in  your  conclusions?  You 
cannot  be  safe  in  your  conclusions.  No  mind  can  be 
trusted  a  moment  to  draw  conclusions  from  well  esta- 
blished premises  on  a  subject  which  it  does  not  fully 
grasp. 

If  you  doubt  this,  just  make  the  following  experiment. 
Undertake  to  teach  the  elements  of  geometry  to  a  class 
of  intelligent  young  people;  and  as  they  go  on  from 
truth  to  truth,  lead  them  into  conversation,  induce  them 
to  apply  the  active  energies  of  their  minds  to  the  subject, 
in  reasoning  themselves  from  the  truths  which  their  text- 
book explains,  and  you  will  soon  be  convinced  how  far 
the  human  mind  can  be  trusted  in  its  inferences  on  a 
subject  which  is  beyond  its  grasp.  Your  pupils  will 
bring  you  apparent  contradictions,  arising,  as  they  think 
they  can  show,  from  the  truths  established  ;  and  will  de- 
monstrate, most  satisfactorily  to  themselves,  the  most  ab- 
surd propositions.  In  one  case,  an  intelligent  scholar  in 
a  class  in  college  attempted  to  demonstrate  the  absurdity 
of  the  famous  forty-seventh.  He  drew  his  diagram,  and 
wrote  out  his  demonstration,  and  showed  it  to  his  class; 
/md  it  was  long  before  any  of  them  could  detect  the  fal- 
lacy. The  mathematical  reader  will  understand  this,  and 
all  may  understand,  that,  in  this  case,  the  pupil  made  out 
a  chain  of  reasoning  perfectly  satisfactory  to  his  own 
mind,  which  however  led  to  absurdity  and  falsehood. 

You  say,  perhaps,  "  Well,  this  was  because  he  had 
Just  begun  the  study;  he  knew  scarcely  any  thing  about 
it.  Such  mistakes  would  only  be  made  by  the  merest 
beginners." 

That  is  exactly  what  I  wish  you  to  say  ;  and  to  admit 


126  YOUNG   CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  6 

Drawing  inferences.  Story  of  the  knights  and  the  statue. 

the  same  thing  in  regard  to  ourselves,  as  students  of  reli- 
gious truth.  We  are  mere  beginners ;  we  know  almost 
nothing  of  such  subjects  as  God,  eternity,  and  the  consti- 
tution of  mind.  The  moment  therefore  we  leave  the 
plain  propositions  of  the  Bible,  which  are  all  that  are  ne- 
cessary for  us  to  understand,  and  go  to  drawing  infe- 
rences^ we  involve  ourselves  in  absurdity  and  falsehood, 
no  matter  how  directly  and  inevitably  our  inferences 
seem  to  follow.  Whenever  I  hear  a  man  attempting  to 
prove,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  that  the  Word  could 
not  have  been  God,  and  afterward  have  become  flesh, 
or  that  God  cannot  reign  in  the  heart,  as  the  Bible  says 
he  does,  and  yet  leave  man  free  and  accountable,  I  al- 
ways think  of  the  college  sophomore  endeavoring  by  his 
own  blundering  reasoning  to  upset  the  proposition  of 
Pythagoras. 

These  subjects,  which  are  too  difficult  in  their  very 
nature  for  our  powers,  are  the  source  of  very  many  of 
the  unhappy  controversies  which  agitate  the  church.  The 
mind  is  not  capable  of  grasping  fully  the  whole  truth. 
Each  side  seizes  a  part,  and,  building  its  own  inferences 
upon  these  partial  premises,  they  soon  find  that  their 
own  opinions  come  into  collision  with  those  of  their 
neighbors. 

Moralists  tell  the  following  story,  which  very  happily 
illustrates  this  species  of  controversy :  In  the  days  of 
knight  errantry,  when  individual  adventurers  rode  about 
the  world,  seeking  employment  in  their  profession,  which 
was  that  of  the  sword,  two  strong  and  warlike  knights, 
coming  from  opposite  directions,  met  each  other  at  a 
place  wh*^.re  a  statue  was  erected.  On  the  arm  of  the  sta- 
tue was  a  shield,  one  side  of  which  was  of  iron,  the  other 
of  brass,  and  as  our  two  heroes  reined  up  their  steeds, 
the  statue  was  upon  the  side  of  the  road,  between  them, 
in  such  a  manner  that  the  shield  presented  its  surface  of 
brass  to  the  one,  and  of  iron  to  the  other.    They  imme- 


Ch.  6.]  DIFFICULTIES    IN    RELIGION.  127 

The  shield  of  brass  arid  iron.  One  kind  of  controversy 

diately  fell  into  conversation  in  regard  to  the  structure 
before  them,  when  one,  incidentally  alluding  to  the  iron 
shield,  the  other  corrected  him,  by  remarking  that  it  was 
of  brass.  The  knight  upon  the  iron  side  of  course  did 
not  receive  the  correction  :  he  maintained  that  he  was 
right ;  and,  after  carrying  on  the  controversy  for  a  short 
time  by  harsh  language,  they  gradually  grew  angry,  and 
soon  drew  their  swords.  A  long  and  furious  combat  en- 
sued ;  and  when  at  last  both  were  exhausted,  unhorsed, 
and  lying  wounded  upon  the  ground,  they  found  that  the 
whole  cause  of  their  trouble  was,  that  they  could  not  see 
both  sides  of  a  shield  at  a  time. 

Now  religious  truth  is  sometimes  such  a  shield,  with 
various  aspects,  and  the  human  mind  cannot  clearly  see 
all  at  a  time.  Two  Christian  knights,  clad  in  strong 
armor,  come  up  to  some  such  subject  as  moral  agency, 
and  view  it  from  opposite  stations.  One  looks  at  the 
power  which  man  has  over  his  heart,  and,  laying  his 
foundation  there,  he  builds  up  his  theory  upon  that 
alone.  Another  looks  upon  the  divine  power  in  the  hu- 
man heart,  and,  laying  his  own  separate  foundation, 
builds  up  his  theory.  The  human  mind  is  incapable,  in 
fact,  of  grasping  the  subject — of  understanding  how  man 
can  be  free  and  accountable,  and  yet  be  so  much  under 
the  control  of  God  as  the  Bible  represents.  Our  Chris- 
tian soldiers,  however,  do  not  consider  this.  Each  takes 
his  own  view,  and  carries  it  out  so  far  as  to  interfere 
with  that  of  the  other.  They  converse  about  it — they 
talk  more  and  more  warmly — then  a  long  controversy  en- 
sues— if  they  have  influence  over  others,  their  dispute 
agitates  the  church,  and  divides  brethren  from  brethren. 
And  why  ?  Why,  just  because  our  Creator  has  so  form- 
ed us  that  we  cannot,  from  one  point  of  view,  see  both 
sides  of  the  shield  at  the  same  time.  The  combatants, 
after  a  long  battle,  are  both  unhorsed  and   wounded  ; 


128  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   6. 

Difficulties  of  children.  Children's  questions. 

their  usefulness  and  their  Christian  character  is  injured 
or  destroyed. 

Now  what  is  the  true  course  for  us  to  take  in  regard 
to  such  a  subject?  Simply  this.  Look  at  our  depen- 
dence on  God  for  a  change  of  heart  and  for  the  exercise 
of  right  feeling,  just  as  the  Bible  presents  this  subject, 
and  go  cordially  and  fully  just  as  far  as  the  Bible  goes, 
which  is  a  great  way.  Fix  in  your  heart  that  feeling  of 
dependence  and  humility  which  this  view  is  calculated 
to  give.  Then  look  at  the  other  aspect  of  this  subject, 
the  active  power  of  man,  and  go  here  just  as  far  as  the 
Bible  goes,  and  carefully  learn  the  lesson  of  diligence 
which  it  teaches.  Suppose  yo«  cannot  find  where  the 
two  come  together,  be  willing  to  be  ignorant  of  a  theory 
which  God  has  not  revealed. 

It  has  been  my  design  in  presenting  this  subject,  to 
convince  Christians  that  they  cannot  understand  every 
thing  connected  with  Christian  theology,  and  to  try  to 
induce  them  to  repose  willingly  and  peacefully  in  a 
sense  of  ignorance  fully  realized  and  frankly  acknow- 
ledged. 

3.  Dijiculties  of  children.  I  have  discussed  this  sub 
ject  too  with  direct  reference  to  children,  for  the  sake 
of  trying  to  guard  you  against  two  faults.  One  is,  com- 
ing to  your  parents  or  teachers  with  questions,  and  ex- 
pecting that  they  can  in  all  cases  give  a  satisfactory  an- 
swer. They  cannot.  They  do  not  know.  The  wisest 
parent,  the  highest  intellect,  is  incapable  of  answering  the 
questions  which  the  youngest  child  can  ask  in  regard  to 
the  truths  of  Christianity.  Do  not  expect  it  then.  You 
may  ask  questions  freely,  but  when  the  answers  are  not 
perfectly  satisfactory  to  you,  consider  the  subject  as  be- 
yond the  grasp  of  your  present  powers.  Be  satisfied  if 
you  can  understand  the  principles  of  duty,  and  spend  your 
moral  strength  in  endeavoring  to  be  as  faithful  as  possible 
there. 


Ch.  6.]  DIFFICULTIES    IN    CHRISTIANITY.  129 

Difficulties  of  parents  and  teachers.  The  school-hoy's  question. 

There  is  one  other  suggestion  which  I  wish  to  make 
to  you.  When  you  carry  questions  or  difficulties  of  any 
kind  to  your  parents  or  teachers,  be  very  careful  to  be 
actuated  by  a  sincere  desire  to' learn,  instead  of  coming 
as  young  persons  very  often  do,  with  a  secret  desire  to 
display  their  own  acuteness  and  discrimination  in  seeing 
the  difficulty.  How  often  have  young  persons  brought 
questions  to  mo,  when  it  has  been  perfortlv  evident  that 
their  whole  object  was  not  to  be  taught,  but  to  show  me 
their  own  shrewdness  and  dexterity.  TJiey  listen  in  such 
cases  to  what  I  say,  not  to  be  taught  by  it,  but  to  think 
what  they  can  reply  to  it,  and  bring  objection  upon  ob- 
jection with  a  spirit  wliich  refuses  to  be  satisfied.  Be 
careful  to  avoid  this.  Ask  for  the  sake  of  learning.  Lis- 
ten with  a  predisposition  to  be  satisfied  with  the  answer, 
and  never  enter  into  argument,  and  take  your  side,  and 
dispute  with  your  parent  or  your  teacher,  with  a  view  to 
show  your  dexterity.  If  you  have  this  spirit  and  exer- 
cise it,  an  intelligent  parent  will  always  detect  it. 

4.  Difficulties  of  parents  and  teachers.  I  wish  to 
have  this  discussion  the  means  of  helping  parents  and 
teachers,  and  older  brothers  and  sisters,  out  of  one  of 
4heir  most  common  difficulties — I  mean,  that  of  answer- 
ing questions  brought  to  them  by  the  young.  Learn  to 
say,  "  I  do  not  know."  If  you  really  will  learn  to  say 
this  frankly  and  openl)-,  it  will  help  you  out  of  a  vast 
many  troubles. 

You  are  a  Sabbath  school  teacher,  I  will  imagine.  A 
bright  looking  boy,  whose  vanity  has  been  fanned  by  flat- 
tery, says  to  you  before  his  class, 

"  There  is  one  thing  in  the  lesson  I  do  not  understand. 
It  says  God  made  the  earth  first,'  and  afterward  the 
sun.  Now  the  sun  stands  still,  and  the  earth  and  all  the 
planets  move  round  it.  It  seems  to  me,  therefore,  that 
he  would  have  been  more  likely  to  have  created  the  sun 

0* 


130  YOUNG   CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  6. 


Pride  in  asking  questions.  Importance  of  a  humble  spirit. 

first,  for  that  is  the  largest  and  is  in  the  middle,  and  after- 
ward .the  planets." 

As  he  says  this,  you  see  a  half  smile  of  self:Complacency 
upon  his  countenance  as  he  looks  round  upon  his  class- 
mates, to  observe  how  they  receive  this  astonishing  dis- 
play of  youthful  acumen.  If  now  you  attempt  any  ex- 
planation, he  does  not  follow  you  with  any  desire  to  have 
the  difHculty  removed.  He  either  is  absorbed  in  think- 
ing how  shrewdly  he  discovered  and  expressed  the  diffi- 
culty, or  else,  if  he  listens  to  your  reply,  it  is  to  find  some- 
thing in  it  upon  which  he  can  hang  a  new  question,  or 
prolong  the  difficulty.  He  feels  a  sort  of  pride  in  not 
having  his  question  easily  answered.  He  cannot  be  in- 
structed while  in  this  state  of  mind. 

*'  What  then  would  you  say  to  a  boy  in  such  a  case  ?" 
you  will  ask. 

I  would  say  this  to  him  :  "  I  do  not  understand  that 
very  well  myself.  I  know  nothing  about  the  creation 
but  what  that  chapter  tells  me.  You  can  think  about  it, 
and  perhaps  some  explanation  will  occur  to  you.  In  the 
mean  time  it  is  not  very  necessary  for  us  to  know.  It  is 
not  necessary  for  you  to  understand  exactly  how  God 
made  the  wcrld,  in  order  to  enable  you  to  be  a  good  boy 
next  week." 

And  thus  universally  I  would  inculcate  the  importance 
of  a  humble,  docile  spirit,  which  will  disarm  every  theo- 
retical difficulty  of  its  power  to  perplex  us,  or  to  disturb 
our  peace. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY. 

*  God  who  at  sundry  times  and  in  divers  manners,  spake  in  time 
past  unto  the  fathers  by  the  prophets,  hath,  in  these  last  days,  spoken 
unto  us  by  his  Son." 

The  first  inquiry  which  meets  us  in  entering  upon  the 
consideration  of  tliis  subject  is,  "  What  sort  of  evidence 
are  we  to  expect?"  The  only  proper  answer  is,  that 
sort  of  evidence  which  nien  require  to  produce  convic- 
tion and  to  control  the  conduct  in  other  cases.  The  hu- 
man mind  is  so  constituted  that  men  are  governed  by  a 
certain  kind  and  degree  of  evidence  in  all  the  concerns 
of  life — a  kind  and  a  degree  which  is  adapted  to  the  cir- 
cumstances in  which  we  are  placed  here.  This  evidence, 
however,  almost  always  falls  very  far  short  of  demon- 
stration, or  absolute  certainty.  Still  it  is  enough  to  con- 
trol the  conduct.  By  the  influence  of  it  a  man  will  em- 
bark in  the  most  momentous  enterprises,  and  he  is  often 
induced  by  it  to  abandon  his  most  favorite  plans.  Still 
it  is  very  far  short  of  demonstration,  or  absolute  certain- 
ty«  For  example,  a  merchant  receives  in  his  counting- 
room  a  newspaper  which  marks  the  prices  of  some  spe- 
cies of  goods  at  a  foreign  port  as  very  high.  He  imme- 
diately determines  to  purchase  a  quantity,  and  to  send  a 
cargo  there ;  but  suppose,  as  he  is  making  arrangements 
for  this  purpose,  his  clerk  should  say  to  him,  "  Perhaps 
this  information  may  not  be  correct.  The  correspondent 
of  the  editor  may  have  made  a  false  statement  for  some 
fraudulen<^^  purpose,  or  the  communication  may  have  been 
forged  ;  or  some  evil-minded  person  having  the  article  in 
question  for  sale,  may  have  contrived  by  stealth  to  alter 
the  types,  so  as  to  cause  the  paper  to  make  a  false  report, 
at  least  in  some  of  the  copies," 


132  YOUNG     CHRISTIAN.  [Ch-   7. 

The  doubting  clerk.  The  unexpected  letter. 

Now  in  such  a  case  would  the  merchant  be  influenced 
in  the  slightest  degree  by  such  a  sceptical  spirit  as  this? 
Would  he  attempt  to  reply  to  these  suppositions,  and  to 
show  that  the  channel  of  communication  between  the  dis- 
tant port  and  his  own  counting-room  could  not  have  been 
broken  in  upon  by  fraud  somewhere  in  its  course,  so  as 
to  bring  a  false  statement  to  him  ?  He  could  not  show 
this.  His  only  reply  must  be,  if  he  should  reply  at 
all,  **  The  evidence  of  this  printed  sheet  is  not  perfect 
demonstration,  but  it  is  just  such  evidence  in  kind  and 
degree  as  I  act  upon  in  all  my  business  ;  and  it  is  enough. 
Were  I  to  pause  with  the  spirit  of  your  present  objec- 
tions, and  refuse  to  act  whenever  such  doubts  as  those 
you  have  presented  might  be  entertained,  I  might  close 
my  business  at  once,  and  spend  life  in  inaction.  I  could 
not,  in  one  case  in  ten  thousand,  get  the  evidence  which 
would  satisfy  such  a  spirit." 

Again  :  You  are  a  parent,  I  suppose ;  you  have  a  son 
traveling  at  a  distance  from  home,  and  you  receive  some 
day  a  letter  from  the  post-office  in  a  strange  hand-writing, 
and  signed  by  a  name  you  have  never  heard,  informing 
you  that  your  son  has  been  taken  sick  at  one  of  the  vil- 
lages'on  his  route,  and  that  he  is  lying  dangerously  ill  at 
the  house  of  the  writer,  and  has  requested  that  his  father 
.Tiight  be  informed  of  his  condition  and  urged  to  come 
and  see  him  before  he  dies. 

Where  now  is  the  father  who  in  such  a  case  would  say 
to  himself,  "  Stop,  this  may  be  a  deception ;  some  one 
may  have  forged  this  letter  to  impose  upon  me.  Before 
I  take  this  journey  I  must  write  to  some  responsible  man 
in  that  village  to  ascertain  the  facts." 

No  ;  instead  of  looking  with  suspicion  upon  the  letter, 
scrutinizing  it  carefully  to  find  marks  of  counterfeiting, 
he  would  not  even  read  it  a  second  time.  As  soon  as  he 
had  caught  a  glimpse  of  its  contents,  he  would  throw  it 
hnstily  aside,  and  urging  the  arrangements  for  his  depar- 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY  133 

The  sick  child.  Men  act  from  reasonable  evidence. 

ture  to  the  utmost,  he  would  hasten  away,  saying,  '*  Let 
me  go  as  soon  as  possible  to  my  dying  son." 

I  will  state  one  more  case,  though  perhaps  it  is  so  evi- 
dent, upon  a  moment's  reflection,  that  men  do  not  wait  for 
perfect  certainty  in  ihe  evidence  upon  which  they  act, 
that  I  have  already  stated  too  many. 

Your  child  is  sick,  and  as  he  lies  tossing  in  a  burning 
fever  on  his  bed,  the  physician  comes  in  to  visit  him.  He 
looks  for  a  few  minutes  at  the  patient,  examines  the 
symptoms,  and  then  hastily  writes  an  almost  illegible 
prescription,  whose  irregular  and  abbreviated  characters 
are  entirely  unintelligible  to  all  but  professional  eyes. 
You  give  this  prescription  to  a  messenger — perhaps  to 
some  one  whom  you  do  not  know — and  he  carries  it  to 
the  apothecary,  who,  from  the  indiscriminate  multitude 
of  jars,  and  drawers,  and  boxes,  filled  with  every  powerful 
medicine,  and  corroding  acid,  and  deadly  poison,  selects 
a  little  here  and  a  little  there,  with  v/hich,  talking  per- 
haps all  the  time  to  those  around  him,  he  compounds  a 
remedy  for  your  son.  The  messenger  brings  it  to  the 
sick  chamber,  and  as  he  puts  it  into  your  hands,  do  you 
think  of  stopping  to  consider  the  possibility  of  a  mis- 
take? How  easily  might  the  physician,  by  substituting 
one  barbarous  Latin  name  for  another,  or  by  making  one 
little  character  too  few  or  too  many,  have  so  altered  the 
ingredients,  or  the  proportions  of  the  mixture,  as  to  con- 
vert that  which  was  intended  to  be  a  remedy,  to  an  active 
and  fatal  poison.  How  easily  might  the  apothecary,  by 
using  the  wrong  weight,  or  mistaking  one  white  powder 
for  another  precisely  similar  in  appearance,  or  by  giving 
your  messenger  the  parcel  intended  for  another  customer, 
send  you,  not  a  remedy  which  would  allay  the  fever  and 
bring  repose  to  the  restless  child,  but  an  irritating  sti- 
mulus, which  should  urge  on  to  double  fury  the  raging 
of  the  disease,  or  terminate  it  at  once  by  sudden  death. 

How  possible  are  these,  but  who  stops  to   consider 


134  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  7. 

Evidences  of  Christianity,  historical,  internal  and  experimental. 


them  ?  How  absurd  would  it  be  to  consider  them  !  You 
administer  the  remedy  with  unhesitating  confidence,  and 
in  a  few  days  the  returning  health  of  your  child  shows 
that  it  is  wise  for  you  to  act,  even  in  cases  of  life  and 
death,  on  reasonable  evidence^  without  waiting  for  the 
absolute  certainty  of  moral  demonstration. 

Now  this  is  exactly  the  case  with  the  subject  of  the 
Christian  religion.  It  comes  purporting  to  be  a  message 
from  heaven,  and  it  brings  with  it  just  such  a  kind  of 
evidence  as  men  act  upon  in  all  their  other  concerns. 
The  evidence  is  abundant ;  at  the  same  time,  however, 
any  one  who  dislikes  the  truths  or  the  requirements  of 
this  Gospel,  may  easily,  like  the  sceptical  clerk  in  the 
case  above  mentioned,  make  objections  and  difficulties 
innumerable.  A  man  may  be  an  infidel  if  he  pleases. 
There  is  no  such  irresistible  weight  of  argument  that  the 
mind  is  absolutely  forced  to  admit  it,  as  it  is  to  believe 
that  two  and  three  make  five.  In  regard  to  this  latter 
truth,  such  is  the  nature  of  the  human  mind,  that  there 
is  not,  and  there  cannot  be  an  individual  who  can  doubt 
it.  In  regard  to  Christianity  however,  as  with  all  other 
truths  of  a  moral  nature  which  regulate  the  moral  con- 
duct of  mankind,  there  is  no  such  irresistible  evidence. 
The  light  is  clear,  if  a  man  is  willing  to  see ;  but  it  is 
not  so  vividly  intense  as  to  force  itself  through  his  eye- 
lids, if  he  chooses  to  close  them.  Any  one  may  walk  in 
darkness  if  he  will. 

The  evidences  of  Christianity  are  usually  considered 
as  of  two  kinds,  historical  and  internal.  There  may 
properly  be  added  a  third,  which  I  shall  call  experi- 
mental. These  three  kinds  are  entirely  distinct  in  their 
nature. 

1.  If  we  look  back  upon  the  history  of  Christianity, 
we  fijid  it  was  introduced  into  t^he  world  under  very  re- 
markable circumstances.    Miracles  were  performed,  and 


Ch.  t.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  135 

Illustration.  The  Phosphorus. 

future  events  foretold,  in  attestation  of  its  divine  origin, 
and  the  founder  was  restored  to  life  after  being  crucified 
by  his  enemies.  These,  with  the  various  circumstances 
connected  with  them,  constitute  the  historical  evidence 
of  Christianity. 

2.  If  now  we  examine  the  book  itself,  its  truths,  its 
doctrines,  its  spirit,  we  find  that  it  is  exactly  such  in  its 
nature  and  tendency  as  we  should  expect  a  message  from 
Jehovah  to  such  beings  as  we,  would  be.  This  is  the 
internal  evidence. 

3.  And  if  we  look  upon  the  effects  which  the  Bible  pro- 
duces all  around  us  upon  the  guilt  and  misery  of  society, 
wherever  it  is  faithfully  and  properly  applied,  we  find 
it  efficient  for  the  purposes  for  which  it  was  sent.  It 
comes  to  cure  the  diseases  of  sin — and  it  does  cure  them. 
It  is  intended  to  lead  men  to  abandon  vice  and  crime, 
and  to  bring  them  to  God — and  it  does  bring  them  by 
hundreds  and  thousands.  If  we  make  the  experiment 
with  it,  we  find  that  it  succeeds  in  accomplishing  its  ob- 
jects.   This  we  may  call  the  experimental  evidence. 

These  three  kinds  of  evidence  are  so  entirely  distinct 
in'  their  nature,  that  they  apply  to  other  subjects.  You 
have  a  substance  which  you  suppose  is  phosphorus.  For 
what  reason?  Why,  in  the  first  place,  a  boy  in  whom 
you  place  confidence  brought  it  for  you  from  the  che- 
mist's, who  said  it  was  phosphorus.  This  is  the  histori- 
cal evidence :  it  relates  to  the  history  of  the  article  be- 
fore it  came  into  your  possession.  In  the  second  place, 
you  examine  it,  and  it  looks  like  phosphorus.  Its  color, 
consistence  and  form  all  agree.  This  is  internal  evi- 
dence :  it  results  from  internal  examination.  In  the  third 
place,  you  try  it.  It  burns  with  a  most  bright  and  vivid 
flame.  This  last  may  be  called  experimental  evidence  ; 
and  it  ought  to  be  noticed  that  this  last  is  the  best  of  the 
three.  No  matter  what  grounds  of  doubt  and  hesitation 
there  may  be  in  regard  to  the  first  and  second  kinds  of 


VOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  7. 


Historical  Evidence.  The  Seal. 

evidence,  if  the  article  simply  proves  its  properties  on 
trial.  If  any  one  should  say  to  you,  "  I  have  some  rea- 
son to  suspect  that  your  messenger  was  not  honest ;  he 
may  have  brought  something  else ;"  or  "  This  does  not 
look  exactly  like  real  phosphorus ;  it  is  too  dark  or  too 
hard  ;"  your  reply  would  be,  "  Sir,  there  can  be  no  pos- 
sible doubt  of  it.     Just  see  how  it  burns  !" 

Just  so  with  the  evidences  of  Christianity.  It  is 
interesting  to  look  into  the  historical  evidences  that  it 
is  a  revelation  from  heaven,  and  to  contemplate  also  the 
internal  indications  of  its  origin;  but  after  all,  the  great 
evidence  on  which  it  is  best  for  Christians,  especially 
young  Christians,  to  rely  for  the  divine  authority  of  the 
Bible,  is  its  present  universal  and  irresistible  power  in 
changing  character,  and  saving  from  suffering  and  sin. 

I.    HISTORICAL    EVIDENCE. 

If  the  Creator  should  intend  to  send  a  communication 
of  his  will  to  his  creatures,  we  might  have  supposed  that 
he  would,  at  the  time  of  his  making  it,  accompany  the 
revelation  with  something  or  other  which  should  be  a 
proof  that  it  really  came  from  him.  Monarchs  have  al- 
ways had  some  way  of  authenticating  their  communica- 
tions with  their  subjects,  or  with  distant  officers.  This 
is  the  origin  of  the  use  of  seals.  The  monarch  at  home 
possesses  a  seal,  of  a  peculiar  character.  When  he  sends 
any  communication  to  a  distance,  he  impresses  this  seal 
upon  the  wax  connected  with  the  parchment  upon  whicli 
the  letter  is  written.  This  gives  it  authority.  No  one  else 
possessing  such  a  seal,  it  is  plain  that  no  one  can  give  the 
impression  of  it,  and  a  seal  of  this  kind  is  very  difficult 
to  be  counterfeited.  Various  other  devices  have  been  re- 
sorted to  by  persons  in  authority  to  authenticate  their 
communications. 

In  the  same  manner  we  must  have  expected  that  Jeho- 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  137 

Miracles.  Examining  witnesses. 

vah,  when  he  sends  a  message  to  men,  will  have  some 
way  of  convincing  us  that  it  really  comes  from  him. 
There  are  so  many  bad  men  in  the  world  who  are  willing 
to  deceive  mankind,  that  we  could  not  possibly  tell, 
when  a  pretended  revelation  comes  to  us,  whether  it  was 
really  a  revelation  from  heaven  or  a  design  of  wicked 
men,  unless  God  should  set  some  marks  upon  it,  or  ac- 
company it  with  some  indications  which  bad  men  could 
not  imitate. 

The  Bible  professes  to  have  been  accompanied  by  such 
marks.  They  are  the  power  of  working  miracles  and  fore- 
telling future  events,  possessed  by  those  who  brought 
the  various  messages  it  contains.  It  is  plain  that  man, 
without  divine  assistance,  could  have  had  no  such  power. 
If  this  power  then  really  accompanied  those  who  were 
the  instruments  of  introducing  the  Christian  religion  in- 
to the  world,  we  may  safely  conclude  that  it  was  given 
them  by  God,  and  as  he  would  never  give  this  power  to 
sanction  imposture,  the  message  brought  must  be  from 
him. 

The  way  then  to  ascertain  whether  these  miracles  were 
actually  performed,  is  like  that  of  ascertaining  all  other 
matters  of  fact,  by  calling  upon  those  who  witnessed  them 
for  their  testimony. 

The  manner  in  which  these  witnesses  are  to  be  exa- 
mined, is  similar  to  that  pursued  in  ordinary  courts  of 
justice.  It  is  similar,  I  mean,  in  its  principles,  not  in  its 
forms.  I  know  of  nothing  which  shows  more  convincing- 
ly the  satisfactory  nature  of  this  evidence,  than  a  compa- 
rison of  it  with  that  usually  relied  on  in  courts  of  justice. 
In  order  to  exhibit  the  former  then  distinctly,  I  shall 
minutely  describe  the  course  pursued,  and  to  make  my 
description  more  definite,  I  shall  select  a  particular  case. 

I  was  once  walking  in  the  streets  of  a  large  city,  in 
which  I  was  a  stranger,  looking  around  for  some  striking 
exhibitions  of  human  character  or  efforts,  when  I  saw  se- 


138  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    7. 

The  court.  The  courtroom.  The  prisoner. 

veral  persons,  of  apparently  low  rank  in  life,  standing  be- 
fore the  door  of  what  was  apparently  some  public  building. 
I  thought  it  was  probably  a  court-house,  and  that  these 
were  the  men  who  had  been  called  as  witnesses,  and  that 
they  were  waiting  for  their  turn  to  testify.  As  courts 
are  always  open  to  the  public,  I  concluded  to  go  in  and 
hear  some  of  the  causes.  I  walked  up  the  steps  and  en- 
tered a  spacious  hall,  and  at  the  foot  of  a  flight  of  stairs 
saw  a  little  painted  sign,  saying  that  the  court-room  was 
above.  I  passed  up  and  pushed  open  the  light  baize  door, 
which  admitted  me  to  the  room  itself. 

At  the  end  at  which  I  entered  there  were  two  rows  of 
seats,  one  row  on  each  side  of  an  aisle  which  led  up  through 
the  centre.  These  seats  seemed  to  be  for  spectators;  for 
those  on  one  side  were  nearly  filled  with  women,  and  those 
on  the  other  by  men.  I  advanced  up  the  aisle  until  I 
nearly  reached  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  then  took  my 
seat  among  the  spectators,  where  I  could  distinctly  hear 
and  see  all  that  passed.  Before  me,  at  the  farther  end 
of  the  room,  sat  the  judge,  in  a  sort  of  desk  on  an  eleva- 
ted platform,  and  in  front  of  him  was  another  desk, 
lower,  which  was  occupied  by  the  clerk,  whose  business 
it  was  to  make  a  record  of  all  the  causes  that  were  tried. 
There  was  an  area  in  front  of  the  judge,  in  which  were 
seats  for  the  various  lawyers ;  and  in  boxes  at  the  sides 
were  .'jcats  for  the  jury,  who  were  to  hear  the  evidence, 
and  decide  what  facts  were  proved.  On  one  side  of  the 
room  was  a  door  made  of  iron  grating,  with  sharp  points 
upon  the  top,  which  led,  I  supposed,  to  an  apartment 
where  the  prisoners  were  kept. 

Not  long  after  I  had  taken  my  seat,  the  clerk  said  that 
the  next  caus«  was  the  trial  of  O.  B.  for  housebreaking. 
The  judge  commanded  an  ofiicer  to  bring  the  prisoner 
into  court.  The  officer  went  to  the  iron  door  I  have 
described,  unlocked  it,  and  brought  out  of  the  room 
into  which   it    opened,    a    prisoner ;  he   looked    guilty 


Ch.    7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  130 

His  accusation  and  trial.  Testimony  of  the  owner. 

and  ashamed ;  his  face  was  pale — not  as  though  he  was 
afraid,  but  as  if  his  constitution-  had  been  impaired  by- 
vice.  They  brought  him  into  the  middle  of  the  room, 
and  placed  him  in  a  sort  of  pew  with  high  sides,  and 
shut  him  in.  He  leaned  against  the  front  of  it,  looked 
at  the  judge,  and  began  to  listen  to  his  trial. 

The  clerk  read  the  accusation.  It  was,  that  he  had 
broken  open  an  unoccupied  house  once  or  twice,  and 
taken  from  it  articles  belonging  to  the  owner  of  the 
house.  The  judge  asked  him  if  he  pleaded  guilty,  or  not 
guilty.  He  said,  not  guilty.  The  judge  then  asked  the 
jury  at  the  side  to  listen  to  the  evidence,  so  that  they 
might  be  prepared  to  decide  whether  this  man  did  break 
open  the  house  or  not. 

Men,  not  accustomed  to  speak  in  public  assemblies, 
could  not  easily  give  their  testimony  in  such  a  case,  so 
that  it  would  be  fully  understood  on  all  the  important 
points.  In  fact,  very  iew  know  fully  what  the  important 
points  are.  Hence  it  is  proper  that  there  should  be  law- 
yers present,  who  can  ask  questions,  and  thus  examine 
the  witnesses  in  such  a  manner  as  to  bring  out  fully  all 
the  facts  in  the  case.  There  is  one  lawyer  appointed  by 
the  government,  whose  business  it  is  to  bring  to  view 
all  the  facts  which  indicate  the  prisoner's  guilt ;  and  ano- 
ther appointed  by  the  prisoner,  who  takes  care  that  no- 
thing is  omitted  or  lost  sight  of  which  tends  to  show  his 
innocence.  When  the  prisoner  has  not  appointed  any 
counsel,  the  judge  appoints  some  one  for  him  ;  this  was 
done  in  the  case  before  us. 

The  first  witness  called  was  the  owner  of  the  house. 
It  is  necessary  that  each  witness  should  be  a  man  of 
good  character,  and  that  h'e  should  testify  only  to  what 
he  saw  or  heard.  No  one  is  permitted  to  tell  what  some 
one  else  told  him  ;  for  stories  are  very  likely  to  be  alter- 
ed in  repetition;  so  that,  even  in  a  complicated  case,  each 
man  goes  only  so  far  as  his  own  personal  knowledge  ex 


140  "NOTING    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  7. 

Testimony  of  the  watchman.    Lawyer's  question.  Watchman's  story. 

tends.  And,  in  order  to  be  sure  that  the  jury  shall  have 
his  own  story,  he  is  -obliged  to  come  personally  into 
court,  and  tell  the  story  in  presence  of  all.  The  owner 
of  this  house  was  probably  a  man  of  business ;  and  a 
great  deal  of  valuable  time  would  have  been  saved  if  he 
had  been  permitted  to  write  down  his  account  and  send 
it  in.  But  no  ;  every  witness,  where  it  is  possible,  must 
actually  come  into  court  and  present  his  evidence  with 
his  own  voice.  This  remark  it  is  important  to  remem^ 
ber,  as  the  principle  will  eome  to  view  when  we  consi- 
der the  other  case. 

The  witness  testified,  that  he  owned  a  certain  house ; 
that  he  moved  out  of  it,  and  locked  it  up,  leaving  some 
articles  in  an  upper  chamber  ;  that  one  da)^  he  went  in 
and  found  that  the  house  had  been  entered,  I  believe  by 
a  window,  and  that  the  chamber-door  had  been  broken 
open,  and  some  of  the  articles  taken  away.  He  said  that 
he  then  employed  a  watchman  to  sleep  in  the  house,  and 
to  try  to  catch  the  thief. 

Here  he  had  to  stop ;  for,  although  he  knew  how  the 
watchman  succeeded,  he  was  not  permitted  to  tell,  for  he 
did  not  see  it.  No  man  testifies  except  to  what  he  has 
seen  or  heard. 

The  watchman  was  next  called.  The  lawyer  for  the 
government  asked  him, 

*'  Were  you  employed  by  the  owner  of  this  house  to 
watch  for  a  thief  in  it?" 

*'  Yes,  sir." 

*♦  What  did  he  tell  you  when  he  engaged  you?*' 

"  He  told  me  that  his  house  had  been  broken  open, 
and  he  wished  me  to  watch  for  the  thief.'* 

"Did  you  do  it?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  relate  to  the  jury  what  occurred  that  night." 

"I  watched  several  nights.  For  some  nights  nothing 
occurred.     All  was  quiet  till  morning.'* 


Ch.    7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  I4i 

The  Prisoner  convicted.  Points  secured  on  trial 

"  In  what  room  did  you  stay  ?" 

•'  In  the  room  under  the  chamber  from  which  the  arti- 
cles had  been  stolen.'* 

"Well,  go  on  with  your  account." 

"  At  last,  on  the  15th  of  June,  as  I  was  then  watching, 
about  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  I  heard  a  noise.  Some 
one  was  coming  softly  up  stairs.  He  went  up  into  the 
room  over  my  head,  and  after  remaining  a  few  minutes 
there,  he  began  to  come  down.  I  immediately  went  out 
into  the  entry  and  seized  him,  and  took  him  to  the  watch- 
house.     The  next  morning  he  was  put  in  prison.'* 

The  lawyer  tlien  pointed  to  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  and 
asked  if  that  was  the  man.     The  witness  said  it  was. 

The  judge  then  asked  the  counsel  for  the  prisoner 
if  he  had  any  questions  to  ask,  and  he  did  ask  one  or 
two,  but  they  were  not  material.  The  jury  then  consult- 
ed together,  and  all  agreed  that  the  prisoner  was  proved 
guilty  ;  and  the  judge  ordered  him  to  be  sent  back  to  the 
prison  till  he  should  determine  what  punishment  must  be 
assigned. 

This  is  substantially  the  way  in  which  all  trials  are 
conducted.  Three  or  four  points  are  considered  very 
necessary.  1.  That  the  witnesses  should  be  oy^ootZcAa- 
racter,  2.  That  they  should  have  actually  witnessed 
what  they  describe.  And,  3.  That  the  precise  account 
which  they  themselves  give,  should  come  into  court. 
These  points  the  judge  or  the  lawyers  secure.  The  lat- 
ter they  obtain  by  having  the  witness  himself  always 
come,  if  it  is  possible,  even  if  he  has  to  leave  most  im- 
portant business  for  this  purpose.  If  from  sickness,  or 
any  other  similar  cause,  he  cannot  come,  his  testimony  is 
taken  down  in  writing  and  signed  by  himself,  and  that 
paper,  the  very  one  which  he  signed,  must  be  brought 
into  court  and  read  there.  This  is  called  a  deposition. 
The  second  point  is  secured  by  not  allowing  any  man 
to  go  any  farther  in  his  testimony  than  he  himself  saw 


142  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  7. 

Three  points  to  be  attended  to.  Irruption  of  the  barbariana. 

or  heard.  So  that  sometimes,  when  the  case  is  compli- 
cated, a  very  large  number  of  witnesses  are  called  before 
the  whole  case  is  presented  to  the  jury.  The  first  point 
they  secure  by  inquiring  into  the  character  of  the  wit- 
nesses. If  any  man  can  be  proved  to  be  unworthy  of 
credit,  his  testimony  is  set  aside. 

Now  all  these  points  must  be  looked  at  in  examining 
the  evidence  of  the  Christian  miracles.  I  alter  the  ar- 
rangement, however,  placing  them  now  in  the  order  in 
which  it  is  most  convenient  to  examine  them. 

1.  We  must  ascertain  that  we  have  the  exact  account 
given  by  the  witnesses  themselves. 

2.  We  must  ascertain  that  they  had  distinct  opportuni- 
ties to  witness  what  they  describe. 

3.  We  must  have  evidence  that  they  are  credible ; 
that  is,  that  they  are  honest  men,  and  that  their  word 
can  be  relied  upon. 

These  three  points  I  shall  examine  in  order  in  refer- 
ence to  the  Christian  miracles.  The  witnesses  are  the 
four  evangelists,  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke,  John  ;  and  the 
first  inquiry,  according  to  the  list  above  presented,  is  to 
determine  whether  we  have  exactly  the  account  which 
they  themselves  give.  Witnesses  are  commonly  called 
into  court  to  tell  their  own  story,  and  then  there  can  be 
no  mistake.  If  that  is  impossible,  as  I  remarked  above, 
their  deposition  is  taken  with  certain  forms,  and  the  very 
paper  they  originally  signed  is  brought  and  read  in  court. 
But  neither  of  these  courses  can  be  taken  here.  For,  in 
the  first  place,  the  witnesses  have  been  for  a  long  time 
dead,  so  that  they  cannot  come  forward  to  give  their  tes- 
timony ;  and  though  they  did  write  a  full  account  at  the 
time,  yet  it  was  so  many  years  ago  that  no  writing  could 
remain  to  the  present  period.  Time  has  entirely  destroy- 
ed all  vestiges  of  the  writings  of  those  days. 

I  presume  all  my  readers  are  aware,  that  not  long  after 
the  time  of  our  Savior  the  barbarians  from  the  north,  in 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  143 

Dark  ages.  Old  manuscripts, 

innumerable  hordes,  began  to  pour  down  upon  the  Ro- 
man empire,  until  at  last  they  subverted  and  destroyed  it. 
Very  many  of  these  barbarians  became  nominal  Chris- 
tians and  preserved  some  copies  of  the  Bible,  and  in  fact 
they  saved  many  extensive  and  valuable  libraries  of  ma- 
nuscripts in  rolls,  (the  art  of  printing  not  being  then 
known,)  but  they  destroyed  most  of  the  institutions  and 
the  accumulated  property  of  civilized  life,  and  brought  a 
long  period  of  ignorance  and  semi-barbarrsm,  called  the 
dark  ages,  upon  the  world.  After  some  time,  however, 
there  began  to  be  in  various  parts  of  Europe  a  gradual 
improvement.  The  monks  in  the  various  convents  hav- 
ing no  other  employment,  began  to  explore  the  old  libra- 
ries and  to  study  the  books.  They  made  themselves  ac- 
quainted with  the  languages  in  which  they  were  written, 
and  when  the  art  of  printing  was  invented  they  published 
tr;em.  In  consequence  however  of  the  immense  number 
of  manuscripts  collected  in  some  of  the  libraries,  a  long 
time  elapsed  before  they  were  fully  explored,  and  even 
now  the  work  is  not  absolutely  completed.  New  writings 
are  occasionally  brought  to  light  and  published.  The  dif- 
ficulty of  deciphering  such  old,  worn  out,  faded,  and  al- 
most illegible  parchment  rolls,  is  very  great. 

A  great  deal  of  interest  was  felt  at  the  very  first  by 
these  explorers,  to  find  the  oldest  copies  of  the  Bible,  or 
of  any  parts  of  the  Bible.  They  wished  to  have  the  most 
accurate  and  authentic  copy  possible  ;  and  the  more  an- 
cient the  copy,  the  more  probable  it  was  that  it  was  taken 
directly  from  the  original,  and  consequently  the  more  it 
was  to  be  depended  upon.  If  they  could  h?ve  found  a 
manuscript  which  was  evidently  the  very  copy  origi- 
nally written  by  the  author  himself,  it  would  have  been 
considered  invaluable. 

The  number  of  manuscripts  of  the  whole  or  of  parts 
of  the  Hebrew  Bible,  thus  found,  and  now  preserved  in 
various  libraries  of  Europe,  is  more  than  four  hundred ; 


144  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  7. 

Genuineness  of  the  Scriptures.  Quotations.  Illustration. 

and  of  the  Greek  Testament,  not  far  from  one  hundred 
and  fifty.  They  are  scattered  all  over  Europe,  and  are 
preserved  in  the  libraries  with  great  care.  The  oldest  of 
them  however  was  written  several  hundred  years  after 
the  death  of  Christ,  so  that  we  now  cannot  ever  have  the 
manuscripts  actually  written  by  the  original  witnesses. 
The  two  methods  usually  relied  on  therefore  in  courts  of 
justice,  for  being  sure  that  the  actual  story  of  the  wit- 
ness himself  is  presented  in  court,  fail  in  this  case.  We 
must  resort  therefore  to  another  method  equally  certain, 
but  different  in  form. 

The  evidence  relied  upon  to  prove  that  the  books  we 
have  now,  or  rather  the  ancient  manuscripts  in  the  libra- 
ries in  Europe  from  which  they  are  translated,  are  really 
the  same  with  the  accounts  originally  written  by  the  wit- 
nesses themselves,  is  this  :  Immediately  after  they  were 
written,  a  great  many  otlier  Christian  writers,  very  much 
interested  in  these  accounts,  began  to  quote  them  in  their 
own  letters  and  books.  They  quoted  them  much  more 
copiously  than  it  is  customary  to  quote  now,  because  the 
art  of  printing  puts  every  important  book  within  the  reach 
of  all  who  are  interested  in  it.  Then,  the  original  ac- 
counts were  only  in  manuscript,  and  consequently  could 
be  seen  and  read  only  by  a  few.  These  few  therefore  in 
their  writings  made  frequent  and  copious  extracts  from 
them  ;  and  these  extracts  have  come  down  to  us  sepa- 
rately, and  each  one  proves  that  the  passage  it  contains, 
which  is  in  the  account  now,  was  in  that  account  when 
the  quotation  was  made. 

An  imaginary  instance  will  make  this  plain.  The  Vat- 
ican manuscript,  as  it  is  called,  that  is,  a  very  ancient 
manuscript  preserved  in  the  library  of  the  Vatican  at 
Rome,  is  supposed  to  have  been  written  about  four  hun- 
dred years  after  Christ.  It  contains,  we  will  suppose. 
John's  Gospel,  just  as  we  have  it  now  in  our  Bibles. 
This  proves,  that  if  the  real  original  account  which  John 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  146 


Use  made  of  quotations.  Paley's  evidences. 

gave  was  altered  at  all  after  he  wrote  it,  it  was  altered 
before  that  time.  Now  suppose  a  Christian  at  Antioch, 
living  two  hundred  years  before  the  Vatican  manuscript 
was  written,  had  been  writing  a  book,  and  in  it  had  men- 
tioned John's  Gospel,  and  had  copied  out  a  whole  chap- 
ter. This  book  he  leaves  at  Antioch :  it  is  copied  there 
again  and  again,  and  some  copies  are  found  there  at  the 
revival  of  learning  after  the  dark  ages.  Here  we  have 
or>e  chapter  proved  to  have  been  in  John's  account  two 
hundred  years  earlier  than  the  date  of  the  Vatican  ma- 
nuscript. In  the  same  manner  another  chapter  might 
have  been  quoted  in  another  book  kept  at  Alexandria, 
another  at  Rome,  &c.  And  the  fact  is,  that  these  quota- 
tions have  been  so  numerous,  that  they  have  formed,  an 
uninterrupted  succession  of  evidences,  beginning  but  a 
very  short  time  after  the  original  accounts  were  written, 
and  coming  down  to  modern  times.  Every  chapter  and 
verse  is  not  indeed  confirmed  in  this  way,  but  every  thing 
in  the  least  degree  important  is.  All  the  material  facts, 
and  every  particular  in  regard  to  which  there  could  be 
any  necessity  for  this  evidence,  are  furnished  with  it. 
Learned  men  have  taken  a  great  deal  of  pains  to  explore 
and  collect  this  mass  v>f  evidence  in  favor  of  the  genu- 
ineness of  the  sacred  books.  These  quotations  have  been 
most  carefully  examined  and  republished  ;  so  that  all  who 
are  inclined  to  go  into  an  examination  of  them  can  do  so. 
Dr.  Paley,  in  his  evidences  of  Christianity,  has  presented 
enough  to  satisfy  any  mind  of  sufficient  attainments  to 
appreciate  such  an  argument. 

I  say,  of  sufficient  attainment,  for  it  requires  not  a 
little.  There  are  very  ie\Y,  excepting  professed  scholars, 
who  can  have  time  to  go  fully  enough  into  an  examina- 
tion of  this  subject  to  form  an  independent  judgment.  I 
have  not  attempted  in  the  above  remarks  to  present  you 
with  the  argument  itself,  but  only  to  explain  the  nature 
of  it.    As  I  remarked  before,  1  do  not  think  the  historical 

7 


140  VOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    7. 


Necessity  for  proving  the  genuineness  of  the  Scriptures. 

argument  is  calculated  to  come  with  so  much  force  to  the 
minds  of  Christians  generally,  as  one  of  another  kind, 
which  I  shall  presently  exhibit.  All  ought  however  to 
understard  its  nature. 

We  may  consider,  then,  the  fact,  that  these  almost  in- 
numerable quotations  from  the  writers  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament, and  translations  from  them,  forming  a  series 
which  commenced  soon  after  the  writings  first  appeared, 
and  continuing  in  uninterrupted  succession  down  to  the 
present  time,  as  abundant  evidence  that  the  story  we 
now  havct  is  the  story  originally  given  by  the  witnesses 
themselves.  This  evidence  does  satisfy  all  who  fully 
examine  it.  And  this  is  the  first  point  in  the  investigation. 

But  the  question  will  arise  in  the  minds  of  many  of  my 
readers,  why  is  it  necessary  to  prove  so  fully  and  for- 
mally such  a  point  as  this  1  Why  is  it  necessary  to  show 
so  carefully  that  these  are  precisely,  in  all  important  re- 
spects, the  very  accounts  originally  written  by  the  wit- 
nesses themselves?  The  ansv/er  is  this.  Unless  this 
point  were  very  carefully  and  fully  proved,  we  might 
have  supposed  that  the  prevailing  belief  of  the  truth  of 
the  Christian  miracles,  and  the  general  circulation  of  our 
present  books,  might  have  arisen  In  this  way.  Suppose 
that,  eighteen  hundred  years  ago,  a  good  man,  named 
Jesus  Christ,  had  been  dissatisfied  with  the  prevailing 
errors  and  superstitions,  and  had  taught  a  purer  system 
of  religious  and  moral  duty.  His  followers  become 
strongly  attached  to  him.  They  repeat  to  one  another 
his  instructions,  follow  him  from  place  to  place,  and 
soon  attract  the  attention  of  ilxe  authorities  of  the  coun- 
try. Like  Socrates,  he  is  persecuted  by  his  enemies,  and 
put  to  death.  After  his  death,  his  disciples  make  greater 
and  greater  efforts  to  promote  his  principles.  They  re- 
late, with  some  exaggeration,  the  incidents  of  his  life. 
His  benevolence  and  kindness  to  the  sick  and  to  the 
afflicted  is  gradually,  as  the  stories  are  repeated  again 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  147 

The  original  records  remain. 


and  again,  magnified  to  the  exertion  of  miraculous 
power.  One  extraordinary  narrative  after  anotJier  gra- 
dually gains  credit  and  circulation.  No  one  intends  to 
deceive,  but,  according  to  the  universal  tendency  in  such 
cases,  even  where  stories  that  strongly  interest  the  feel- 
ings are  circulated  among  good  men,  the  accounts  gra- 
dually and  insensibly  assume  a  marvellous  and  miracu- 
lous air,  and  after  a  time,  when  years  have  elapsed,  and 
no  method  of  ascertaining  the  truth  remains,  these  ex- 
aggerated and  false  stories  are  committed  to  writing,  and 
these  writings  come  down  to  us.  This  supposition  might 
very  plausibly  have  been  made.  But  the  evidence  af- 
forded by  the  series  of  quotations  I  have  above  described 
cuts  it  off  altogether.  That  long  and  uninterrupted 
series  carries  us  irresistibly  back  to  the  very  time  when 
the  events  occurred.  There  is  no  tim.e  left  for  exag- 
geration and  misrepresentation.  We  prove  that  the  ac- 
counts which  we  now  have  were  written  on  the  spot — 
that  they  were  in  circulation,  and  exposed  to  rigid  scru- 
tiny at  the  very  time  in  which  the  events  themselves  took 
•place — and  we  are  thus  compelled  to  believe  that  the 
original  records,  made  at  the  time,  have  been  jireserved 
unaltered  to  the  present  day. 

"  But  does  this,"  you  will  ask,  "  prove  that  the  ac- 
counts are  true .'"'  Most  certainly  not.  We  have  not 
yet  attempted  to  prove  them  true.  We  have  not  yet 
come  to  the  examination  of  the  evidence  itself  at  all. 
The  original  witnesses,  if  we  admit  that  these  accounts 
were  written  by  them,  may  hiiVe  been  mistaken,  or 
they  may  have  been  false  witnesses.  We  have  said 
nothing  yet  on  these  points.  The  reader  must  bear 
in  mind  v>'hat  is  the  precise  point  now  up.  It  is  simply 
to  show  that  the  accounts  we  have  now,  whatever  they 
may  contain,  are  the  very  accounts  which  the  witnesses 
themselves  wrote.  The  depositions  are  properly  authen- 
ticate J ;  not,  indeed,  by  the  common  legal  forms — seal 


148  YOUNG   CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  7. 

The  second  point.    Opportunities  of  knowing.    House-breaker's  trial 

and  signature  and  witness — but  by  abundant  evidence — • 
and  evidence  of  exactly  the  kind  which  is  always  most 
relied  on,  and  entirely  relied  on,  in  all  other  cases,  where 
the  examination  of  very  ancient  documents  comes  up 
This  point  being  thus  settled,  we  are  now  prepared  to 
examine  the  evidence  itself,  in  reference  to  the  other 
points  I  have  mentioned.  As  it  is  very  desirable,  in  ordei 
to  have  clear  views  of  any  argument,  that  a  distinct  view 
of  its  parts  should  be  kept  in  mind,  the  reader  is  re- 
quested to  look  back  to  page  143,  for  an  enumeration 
of  the  points  to  be  examined,  and  he  will  recollect  that 
Ave  have  yet  discussed  only  the  first,  and  proceed  now  to 
the  second. 

2.  We  must  ascertain  that  the  writers  of  these  ac- 
counts had  distinct  opportunities  to  witness  what  they 
describe. 

Now,  in  regard  to  this,  their  own  testimony  is  to  be 
taken.  It  is  common  to  ask  witnesses  on  the  stand,  in 
a  court  of  justice,  about  the  opportunities  they  had  of 
knowing  certainly,  or  the  possibility  that  they  might  te 
mistaken,  and  they  give  their  own  account  of  the  situa- 
tion in  which  they  were  placed.  This  account  is  ad- 
mitted and  believed,  like  all  their  other  testimony,  unless 
something  appears  which  shows  that  the  witness  is  not 
to  be  trusted,  and  then  all  his  statements  are  abandoned 
together. 

I  noticed  in  the  trial  above  described,  that  the  counsel 
for  the  prisoner  was  particular  on  this  point.  He  asked 
the  witness,  after  he  had  told  all  the  story  about  his  de- 
tecting the  man  in  the  chamber,  as  follows  : 

"  But  are  you  sure  that  that  (pointing  to  the  prisoner) 
was  the  man  ?" 

"  Yes,  perfectly  sure.  I  could  not  be  mistaken,  for  I 
took  him  at  once  to  the  watch-house." 

This  was  decisive ;  it  proved  that  the  witness  had  a 
most  excellent  opportunity  to  know  what  he  described, 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  149 

Sacred  writers  could  not  have  been  mistaken. 

and  that  there  was  no  possibility  of  mistake.  Suppose, 
however,  that  the  thief  had  been  active  enough  to  have 
run  down  stairs  and  escaped,  allowing  the  witness  only  a 
glimpse  of  his  person,  and  the  next  day  the  witness  had 
met  a  man  in  the  street  whom  he  supposed  was  the  same, 
and  had  procured  his  arrest  and  trial,  the  jury  would  in 
this  case  have  placed  far  less  confidence  in  his  testimony, 
even  if  they  knew  that  he  was  a  very  honest  man  and 
intended  to  tell  the  truth.  The  difficulty  would  have 
been  the  want  of  a  full  and  unquestionable  opportunity 
to  know  what  the  truth  was. 

In  the  same  manner,  if  there  is  any  thing  which  might 
operate  to  produce  delusion,  a  jury  would  receive  testi- 
mony with  great  hesitation.  For  example,  suppose  a 
witness  should  testify  that  he  saw  some  supernatural  ap- 
pearance in  going  through  a  dark  wood  by  night.  Few 
%vould  believe  him,  however  honest  a  man  he  might  be, 
on  account  of  the  great  danger  of  being  deceived  in  going 
through  a  scene  full  of  irregular  objects,  such  as  the  va- 
rieties of  vegetation,  the  broken  rocks,  the  whitened 
trunks  of  decaying  trees,  and  goftg  through  too  at  night, 
when  all  forms  are  vague  and  indeterminate,  and  easily 
modified  by  the  imagination  or  the  fears.  Again,  an  ho- 
nest man,  one  in  whose  word  I  place  great  confidence, 
may  tell  me  of  a  cure  for  rheumatism.  He  says  .he  has 
tried  it,  and  it  always  does  great  good.  I  receive  his 
testimony  with  great  doubt,  because  he  cannot  probably, 
with  the  little  experience  he  has,  know  how  much  the  be- 
nefit he  experienced  was  owing  to  the  supposed  remedy, 
and  how  much  to  other  causes.  If  the  same  man  should 
come  home  from  Boston,  and  say  that  the  State  House 
was  burnt — that  ho  saw  it  all  in  flames — or  any  other  ex- 
traordinary fact,  far  more  extraordinary  than  the  effica- 
cy of  a  remedy  for  rheumatism,  I  should  believe  him,  it 
it  was  only  a  case  where  he  had  distinct  and  unquestiona- 


150  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  7. 

Proofs  that  sacred  writers  could  not  have  been  mistaken. 

hie  opportunity  to  observe,  and  where  no  room  was  left 
for  mistake  or  delusion. 

Now  if  we  examine  the  miracles  which  our  Savior  per- 
formed, and  the  opportunity  which  the  disciples  had  of 
witnessing  them,  we  shall  see  that  there  could  not  have 
been  a  mistake.  Remember,  however,  that  I  am  not  now 
saying  that  their  story  must  be  true.  I  am  only  here 
showing  that  they  could  not  have  been  mistaken.  They 
must  have  known  whether  what  they  were  saying  was 
true  or  not.  The  case  could  not  be  like  that  of  a  man 
telling  a  ghost  story, — something  which  he  thinks  is  true, 
but  which  is  in  reality  not  so.  The  things  done,  were 
done  in  open  day.  They  were  done  in  presence  of  mul- 
titudes ;  and  they  were  of  such  a  nature  that  those  who 
witnessed  them  could  not  be  deceived  :  healing  what  are 
called  incurable  diseases  ;  feeding  multitudes  with  a  small 
supply  of  food  ;  walking  on  the  sea ;  rising  from  the 
grave,  after  remaining  upon  the  cross  till  Roman  soldiers 
were  satisfied  that  life  was  gone.  Who  could  be  a  better 
judge  of  death  than  a  Roman  soldier?  These,  and  a  mul- 
titude of  similar  thing^  might  be  given  as  proofs  that 
these  witnesses  could  not  be  mistaken  in  what  they  de- 
scribed. They  knew  whether  they  were  true  or  not.  And 
consequently  if  the  third  point,  that  is  their  honesty,should 
be  proved,  we  must  believe  what  they  say.  If  they  had 
informed  us  only  of  a  iew  miraculous  events,  and  those 
seen  by  a  few  people,  or  of  such  a  character  as  to  render 
the  witnesses  peculiarly  liable  to  be  deceived,  we  might 
have  admitted  their  honesty,  but  denied  the  truth  of  their 
statements.     As  it  is,  however,  we  cannot  do  this. 

Not  only  were  the  facts  themselves  of  so  open  and  pub- 
lic a  character  that  there  could  not  be  any  mistcke  about 
them,  but  the  writers  of  our  accounts  were  eye-witnesses 
of  them.  They  did  not  obtain  a  knowledge  of  them  by 
hearsay  or  report :  they  wrote  what  they  themselves 
saw  and  heard.     It  is  noticeable  that  they  themselves 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  161 

They  were  eye-witnesses.  Third  point. 

placed  peculiar  stress  upon  this  circumstance.  Luke  be- 
gins bis  gospel  by  saying,  "  It  seemed  good  to  me,  having 
had  perfect  understanding  of  all  tilings  from  the  first,  to 
write  unto  thee."  John,  at  the  close  of  his  book,  distinct- 
ly records  the  fact,  that  the  \criter  of  the  account  was  one 
of  the  principal  actors  in  the  scenes  he  describes ;  Pe- 
ter, in  his  defence  of  himself  before  the  Jewish  authori- 
ties, says  he  cannot  but  speak  the  things  he  has  seen  and 
heard  ;  and  perhaps  the  most  striking  of  all  is,  that  when 
the  apostles  came  together  to  elect  one  to  take  the  place 
of  Judas,  they  restricted  themselves  in  their  selection  to 
those  who  had  been,  from  the  beginning,  witnesses  of 
the  whole.  "  Wherefore,"  was  the  proposition,  *'  of  these 
men  which  have  companied  with  us  all  the  time  that  the 
Lord  Jesus  went  in  and  out  among  us,  beginning  from  the 
baptism  of  John  unto  that  same  day  that  he  was  taken  up 
from  us,  must  one  be  ordained  to  be  a  witness  with  us  of 
his  resurrection."  These  men  understood  the  laws  of 
the  human  mind  in  regard  to  believing  testimony.  They 
knew  well  what  was  necessary  to  make  out  a  case,  and 
they  secured  it 

f,  We  have  now  explained  how  the  two  first  points  in  our 
chain  of  reasoning  are  established,  and  we  may  consider 
it  as  certain,  in  the  first  place,  that  though  our  witnesses 
are  not  living,  and  consequently  cannot  present  us  their 
testimony  in  person,  and  although  so  long  a  time  has 
elapsed,  that  their  original  writings  are  worn  out  and 
destroyed,  yet  that  there  is  abundant  evidence  that  we 
have  the  real  account  which  they  delivered  ;  and,  in  the 
second  place,  that  they  could  not  be  mistaken  in  the  facts 
to  which  they  give  their  testimony,  as  they  were  eye- 
witnesses of  them,  and  the  facts  are  of  such  a  nature 
that  there  couM  be  no  delusion.  There  is  no  possible 
way  now,  after  these  two  points  are  established,  by  which 
their  testimony  can  be  set  aside,  except  by  the  supposi- 


152  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   7. 

Third  point.  Their  style  of  writing.  Impartiality. 

tion  that  they  were  impostors.  This  brings  us  to  our 
third  and  last  point,  mentioned  on  page  143. 

3.  We  must  have  evidence  that  our  witnesses  are  cre- 
dible; i.  e.  that  they  are  honest  men,  and  that  their  word 
can  be  relied  upon. 

The  evidence  on  this  point  is,  if  possible,  more  com- 
plete and  more  absolutely  unquestionable  than  upon  either 
of  the  others  ;  the  honest  and  candid  manner  in  which 
they  relate  their  story  is  evidence  ;  it  is  plain,  straight 
forward,  and  simple.  Their  writings  have  exactly  the  air 
and  tone  of  men  conscious  that  they  are  telling  the  truth, 
but  aware  that  it  will  be  regarded  with  very  different 
feelings  by  their  readers.  They  narrate,  frankly  and 
fully,  the  events  in  which  they  or  their  companions  were 
to  blame  ;  and  they  do  nothing  more  in  regard  to  the 
guilt  of  their  enemies.  There  are  no  palliating  or  exte- 
nuating statements  or  expressions  on  the  one  side,  nor 
any  disposition  to  apply  epithets  of  odium  or  exaggera- 
tion upon  the  other.  The  story  is  .simply  told,  and  left 
to  work  its  own  way. 

How  differently  do  men  act  in  other  cases  !  How  easily 
can  you  tell  upon  which  side  the  writer  is,  when  he  gives 
an  account  of  circumstances  relating  to  a  contest  between 
two  individuals  or  two  parties!  Open  to  any  history  of 
the  battle  of  Waterloo,  or  of  the  campaign  in  Russia, 
and  how  long  can  you  doubt  whether  the  author  is  a 
friend  or  an  enemy  of  Napoleon?  Now  turn  to  St.  John's 
account  of  the  trial  and  crucifixion  of  the  Savior — a  most 
unparalleled  scene  "of  cruel  suffering — and  there  is  not 
a  harsh  epithet,  and  scarcely  an  expression  of  displea- 
sure, on  the  part  of  the  writer,  from  the  beginning  to 
the  end  of  it ;  you  would  scarcely  know  what  was  his 
opinion.  Take,  for  instance,  the  account  of  the  prefer- 
ence of  Barabbas  by  the  Jews.  Another  writer  would 
have  said,  "  The  Jews  were  so  bent  on  the  destruction 
of  their  innocent  and  helpless  victim,  that  when  Pilate 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  153 

Barabbas  chosen  and  Christ  rejected. 

proposed  to  release  him,  in  accordance  with  their  cus- 
tom of  having  a  prisoner  annually  set  at  liberty  on  the 
day  of  their  great  festival,  they  chose  a  base  malefactor 
in  his  stead  ;  they  preferred  that  a  robber,  justly  con- 
demned for  his  crimes,  should  be  let  loose  upon  society, 
rather  than  that  the  meek  and  lowly  Jesus  should  again 
go  forth  to  do  good  to  all."  But  what  does  John  say  ? 
There  is  no  attempt  in  his  account  to  make  a  display  of 
the  guilt  of  the  Jews — no  effort  to  throw  odium  upon 
them — no  exaggeration — no  coloring.  "  Will  ye,"  says 
Pilate,  "  that  I  release  unto  you  the  king  of  the  Jews  ? 
Then  cried  they  all  again,  saying — Not  this  man,  but 
Barabbas.     Now,  Barabbas  was  a  robber." 

In  the  same  spirit  is  the  whole  account — not  only  the 
narrative  of  this  writer,  but  all  the  writers  of  the  New- 
Testament  :  it  breathes  a  spirit  of  calm,  composed  dig- 
nity, which  scarcely  any  thing  can  equal.  In  the  midst 
of  one  of  the  greatest  moral  excitements  which  the  world 
has  ever  seen,  and  writing  upon  the  very  subject  of  that 
excitement,  and  themselves  the  very  objects  of  it,  they 
exhibit  a  self-possession  and  a  composure  almost  with- 
out a  parallel.  Exposed  to  most  extraordinary  persecu- 
tion and  consequent  suffering,  they  never  revile  or  re- 
tort upon  their  oppressors.  It  is  impossible  to  avoid  the 
conclusion,  when  reading  the  chapters  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament, that  the  writers  understood  and  felt  the  moral 
sublimity  of  the  position  they  were  occupying.  They 
seem  to  have  felt  that  they  were  speaking,  not  to  a  few 
thousand  cotemporaries  in  Judea,  but  to  countless  mil- 
lions of  human  beings,  scattered  over  the  earth,  or  com- 
ing up,  generation  after  generation,  to  read  their  story, 
to  the  end  of  time.  They  rise  entirely  above  all  the  in- 
fluences then  pressing  so  strongly  upon  them,  and  in 
calm  and  fearless  independence  offer  their  testimony. 
They  could  not  have  done  this — it  is  not  in  human  na- 
ture to  have  done  it — had  they  not  been  sustained  by  this 

7* 


154 

YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.                              [Ch.  7 

Elevate 

;d  views. 

Tliey  were  disinterested.      Our  Savior's  farewell 

consideration,  viz. :  They  knew  that  they  were  telling 
THE  TRUTH  oit  the  most  momentous  subject  ever  pre- 
sented tomen^  and  that  they  were  telling  it  to  the 

WHOLE  WORLD. 

Another  proof  of  their  honesty  is,  that  they  were  en- 
tirely disinterested  ;  or  rather,  they  were  interested  to 
conceal  the  truth,  not  to  tell  it.  Their  testimony  brought 
them  nothing,  and  could  bring  them  nothing  but  reproach, 
and  suffering,  and  death.  They  saw  this  in  the  history  of 
the  Savior,  and,  instead  of  endeavoring  to  keep  them  un- 
conscious of  the  sufferings  that  awaited  them,  he  plainly 
and  frankly  foretold  all,  just  before  he  left  them.  He  told 
them  in  the  most  affecting  manner — the  communication 
he  made  is  recorded  in  the  fiAeenth  and  sixteenth  chapters 
of  the  Gospel  according  to  St.  John — all  that  should  be- 
fall them.  "  You  must  not  expect,"  said  he,  in  substance, 
"  to  find  the  world  more  kind  to  you  than  it  has  been  to 
me.  They  have  persecuted  me,  and  they  will  persecute 
you.  They  will  put  you  out  of  the  synagogues,  and  who- 
soever killeth  you  will  think  he  doeth  God  service.  I  tell 
you  these  things  beforehand,  so  that  when  the  time  shall 
come,  you  will  remember  that  I  told  you,  and  be  com- 
forted then.  I  wish  you  lo  understand  the  dangers  and 
trials  that  await  you.  You  must  not,  however,  be  de- 
jected or  discouraged  because  I  have  told  you  these 
things.  It  is  necessary  for  me  to  go  away,  and  it  is  ne- 
cessary for  you  to  encounter  these  evils.  But  it  is  only 
for  a  little  time.  The  years  will  pass  away  swiftly,  and 
when  you  have  done  your  duty  here,  you  shall  come  to 
me  again,  and  find  a  perpetual  home  with  me  and  my 
Father  in  a  happier  world." 

Such  was  the  substance  of  this  part  of  our  Savior's 
farewell  address.  His  disciples  listened  to  it  in  sadness, 
but  thry  did  not  shrink  from  their  duly.  A  very  few 
hoi^ri  after  hearing  these  last  words  of  their  Master  in 
their  place  of  retirement,  they  found  themselves  gazing 


Ch.    7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  155 


Interested  witnesses. 


in  terror,  and  at  a  distance,  at  that  dreadful  throng  which 
was  pouring  out  of  the  gates  of  Jerusalem  to  see  their 
beloved  Master  struggling  upon  the  cross.  They  were 
overwhelmed  by  this  scene  :  but  terror  triumphed  only 
for  a  time.  Immediately  after  the  Savior's  ascension, 
we  find  them  assembled,  making  calmly,  but  with  fixed 
determination,  their  arrangements  for  future  efforts,  and 
waiting  for  the  command  from  above — one  hundred  and 
twenty  in  an  upper  chamber,  planning  a  campaign 
against  the  world  !  They  knew,  they  must  have  known, 
that  they  themselves  went  forward  to  suffering  and  to 
death.  They  went  forward,  however.  They  told  their 
story.  They  suffered  and  died.  Must  they  not  have 
been  honest  men? 

The  way  in  which  men  are  interested  is  always  to 
be  looked  at  in  judging  of  their  testimony.  If  a  jury- 
man is  interested  in  the  result  of  a  trial,  he  is  set  aside  : 
he  cannot  judge  impartially.  If  a  witness  is  interested 
at  all,  his  testimony  is  received  with  a  great  deal  of  cau- 
tion, or  else  absolute!)  rejected.  And  whenever  a  case 
is  of  such  a  nature  that  all  those  who  were  witnesses  of 
the  facts  are  interested  on  one  side  or  on  the  other,  it  is 
extremely  difficult  to  ascertain  the  truth.  A  very  strik- 
ing example  of  this  is  furnished  by  the  circumstances  of 
the  battle  of  Lexington,  at  the  commencement  of  the 
American  Revolution.  Each  of  the  parties,  anticipating 
a  struggle,  and  desirous  of  being  prepared  for  it,  had 
made  efforts  to  get  as  much  of  the  arms  and  ammunition 
of  the  country  as  possible  into  its  own  hands,  and  the 
British  General  in  Boston,  understanding  that  there  was 
at  Concord  a  supply  of  military  stores,  conceived  the 
design  of  sending  a  party  in  the  night  to  Concord  to  ob- 
tain it.  He  kept  his  design,  or  rather  tried  to  keep  it, 
secret.  Late  in  the  evening,  the  troops  embarked  in 
boats  on  the  Avest  side  of  the  peninsula  on  which  Boston 
is  built,  and  sailed  across  the  cove  to  the  main  land. 


166  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    7. 

Battle  of  Lexington.  rarliaraent  and  Congress. 

This  was  done  in  silence,  and  it  was  hoped  in  secrecy. 
The  Americans  however,  in  some  way,  heard  of  the  plan. 
The  country  was  alarmed  ;  men  rode  on  horseback  at 
midnight  from  town  to  town,  ringing  the  bells  and  call- 
ing out  the  inhabitants,  and  by  three  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing a  number  of  troops  were  collected  at  Lexington  to 
oppose  the  progress  of  the  British  detachment. 

Now,  neither  party  wished  to  begin  the  contest.  Like 
two  boys  eager  for  a  quarrel,  each  wished  to  throw  the 
odium  of  striking  the  first  blow  upon  the  other.  This 
difficulty  is  however  usualy  soon  surmounted,  and  in  this 
case  the  musketry  was  soon  speaking  distinctly  on  both 
sides.  After  a  momentary  conflict  the  Americans  were 
dispersed,  and  the  British  moved  on  to  the  place  of  their 
destination. 

Now,  after  all  this  was  over,  there  arose  the  question, 
not  in  itself  very  important,  one  would  think,  but  yet 
made  so  by  those  concerned  at  the  time,  "  Who  began 
this  affray?  Who  fired  j?rs?.'"'  To  determine  this  point, 
the  American  Congress  are  said  to  have  instituted  a  for- 
mal inquiry.  Thoy  examined  witnesses  who  were  on  the 
spot  and  saw  the  whole,  and  they  found  abundant  and 
satisfcictory  evidence  that  the  British  soldiers  fired  first, 
and  that  the  Americans  did  not  discharge  their  pieces 
until  they  were  compelled  to  do  it  in  self-defence.  The 
British  Parliament  entered  into  a  similar  inquiry,  and 
they  came  to  an  equally  satisfactory  conclusion — only  it 
happened  to  be  exactly  the  reverse  of  the  other.  They 
examined  witnesses  who  were  on  the  spot  and  saw  the 
whole,  and  they  found  abundant  evidence  that  the  Ame- 
rican soldiers  fired  first,  and  that  the  British  did  not  dis- 
charge their  pieces  until  they  were  compelled  to  do  it  in 
self-defence.  Now,  the  reason  for  this  disagreement  un- 
questionably was,  that  each  nation  examined  only  its  own 
soldiers,  and  the  soldiers  on  both  sides  were  interested. 
Suppose  now,  that  there  had  been  in  the  American  army 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  157 


Points  proved.  Argument  from  prophecy. 

a  considerable  number  who  admitted  that  the  first  guns 
were  fired  from  their  own  ranks.  Suppose  that,  in  con- 
sequence of  this  their  testimony,  they  brought  upon 
themselves  the  dislike  of  the  whole  army,  and,  to  a  great 
extent,  of  the  nation  at  large — how  strong  would  have 
been  the  reliance  placed  upon  such  testimony!  "  There 
cannot  be  a  doubt,"  the  British  would  have  said,  "  that 
you  fired  upon  us  first — half  of  your  own  troops  say  so." 
This  would  have  been  a  very  fair  inference.  When  men 
bear  testimony  contrary  to  their  own  interests  or  feel- 
ings, they  are  generally  believed. 

We  have  thus  abundant  evidence  that  the  original  pro- 
pagators of  the  Gospel  were  honest  men,  and  this  com- 
pletes the  three  positions  necessary  to  prove  that  the 
Christian  miracles  were  actually  performed. 

1.  We  are  sure  that  the  witnesses  are  honest  men. 

2.  The  facts  are  of  such  a  nature,  that  the  witnesses 
could  not  have  been  deceived  in  them. 

3.  It  is  proved  that  we  have  exactly  the  account  wliich 
they  themselves  gave. 

The  miracles  being  once  proved,  the  divine  authority 
of  the  religion  is  proved  ;  for  no  man  can  imagine  that 
the  Deity  would  exert  his  power  in  producing  miracu- 
lous effects  to  give  authority  to  a  message  which  he  did 
not  send. 

There  is  one  other  independent  head  of  the  external 
evidences  of  Christianity  :  it  is  the  argument  from  pro- 
pliecy.  I'hey  who  brought  the  comm.unication  which  is 
offered  to  us  as  a  message  from  heaven,  said  that  they 
were  endued  with  the  powder,  not  only  of  working  mira- 
cles, but  of  foretelling  future  events.  In  some  cases, 
human  sagacity  can  foresee  what  is  future,  and  even  dis- 
tant. They  however  professed  to  exercise  this  power  in 
cases  to  which  no  human  skill  or  foresight  could  have 
extended.    Such  a  power  as  this  is  evidently  miraculous, 


159  VOUNG  CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    7. 


The  Savior  foretold.  Prophecies.  Destruction  of  Jerusalem. 

and  they  who  possessed  it  must  have  received  it  from 
the  Creator. 

One  or  two  examples  will  clearly  illustrate  the  nature 
of  this  argument.  A  great  number  of  the  prophets  who 
appeared  in  the  early  years  of  the  sacred  history,  fore- 
told the  coming  of  a  Savior.  Precisely  what  sort  of  a 
Savior  he  was  to  be,  was  not  distinctly  foretold — at  least 
not  so  distinctly  as  to  remove  all  misconceptions  on  the 
subject.  So  certain  is  it  however  that  such  prophecies 
were  uttered,  and  generally  publislicd,  that  there  pre- 
vailed throughout  the  Jewish  nation,  and  even  to  some 
extent  in  neighboring  countries,  a  general  expectation 
that  an  extraordinary  personage  was  to  appear.  Wc  have 
evidence  enough  of  this — not  merely  from  the  Scriptures 
themselves,  hut  from  a  multitude  of  otlier  writings,  which 
appeared  at  tliat  time,  and  which  have  come  down  to  us 
by  separate  and  independent  channels.  There  can  be  no 
question  in  the  mind  of  any  one  who  will  examine  the 
subject,  that  the  coming  of  Clirist  was  predicted  with  so 
much  distinctness  as  to  produce  an  almost  universal  ex- 
pectation of  the  appearance  of  some  very  extraordinary 
personage  ;  and  the  event  corresponded  with  the  pre- 
diction. A  most  extraordinary  personage  appeared ;  the 
most  extraordinary,  as  all  will  acknowledge — Christiana 
and  infidels — that  ever  appeared  upon  the  earth. 

Our  Savior's  prediction  of  the  destruction  of  Jerusa- 
lem is  another  example.  The  scene  was  described  with 
astonishing  minuteness  and  accuracy,  sixty  or  seventy 
years  before  it  took  place — and  there  was,  at  the  time  of 
the  prediction,  no  reason  whatever,  so  far  as  human  fore- 
sight could  extend,  to  expect  such  a  catastrophe. 

Now,  to  examine  fuily  this  species  of  argument,  seve- 
ral points  ought  to  receive  special  attention.  First,  we 
must  ascertain  that  the  prophecy  was  really  anterior  to 
the  event  which  is  alleged  to  have  occurred  in  fulfillment 
of  it.     This  now,  in  regard  to  writings  and  facts  so  an- 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  159 

False  prophecies.  Subject  difficult. 

cient  as  those  of  the  Scriptures,  is  a  peculiarly  difficult 
task.  Secondly,  that  the  event  is  such  an  one  as  human 
foresiglit  could  not  have  foreseen.  Thirdly,  that  there 
were  not,  in  similar  writings,  a  multitude  of  other  pro- 
phecies which  failed,  and  that  those  only  have  been  pre- 
served which  have  apparently  succeeded.  Among  the 
ignorant  and  vulgar,  nothing  is  more  common  than  a 
belief  in  the  powers  of  fortune-tellers,  or  of  the  prophe- 
tic meaning  of  signs  and  dreams.  The  reason  why  this 
imposture  retains  its  ascendency  is,  that  the  few  suc- 
cessful cases  are  remembered  and  talked  about,  and  the 
cases  o(  failure  are  neglected  and  forgotten.  If  a  per- 
son predicts  at  random  in  regard  to  common  events,  he 
must  sometimes  be  successful,  and  if  his  votaries  will 
forget  the  unsuccessful  attempts,  he  may  soon  have  the 
reputation  of  a  conjurer.  Now,  we  must  ascertain  that 
the  prophecies  of  the  Bible  are  not  of  this  character,  i.  e. 
a  few  lucky  predictions  among  a  multitude  of  failures. 
Fourthly,  we  must  ascertain  that  the  events  themselves 
were  not  under  the  control  of  men  in  such  a  way  as  to 
enable  those  who  were  interested  in  the  success  of  the 
prophecy  to  bring  about  the  corresponding  result. 

Now  to  examine  thoroughly  all  these  points,  so  as  really 
to  form  an  independent  judgment  upon  them,  and  to  take 
nothing  upon  trust,  requires,  in  some  instances,  no  little 
maturity  of  mind,  and  in  others,  no  little  scholarship  and 
laborious  research.  The  young  must  almost  entirely 
take  this  argument  upon  trust.  I  can  only  explain  its 
nature,  and  thus  prepare  you  to  read  more  understand- 
ingly  other  works  on  this  subject.  Those  who  have  gone 
into  it  most  thoroughly,  as  is  the  case  with  all  the  histo- 
rical evidences  of  Christianity,  have  been  most  convinced 
of  the  firmness  of  the  ground.  The  most  profound  scho- 
lars in  all  Christian  nations,  if  they  have  given  the  subject 
due  attention,  have  been  most  decided  in  their  belief  of 
the  Christian  religion. 


160  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  7. 

Were  the  Christian  witnesses  believed  ?  Contest  with  Paganism. 

TMs  completes  the  view  which  I  intended  to  give  of 
the  historical  argument.  It  would  require  a  volume  to 
present  the  argument  itself  in  all  its  detail.  My  design 
has  been  to  give  a  clear  idea  of  the  nature  of  this  kind  of 
reasoning,  not  to  present  all  the  facts  upon  which  the  va- 
rious pillars  of  the  argument  are  founded.  And  here  I 
might  rest  this  part  of  my  subject,  were  it  not  that  there 
is  one  consideration  which  corroborates  very  much  the 
conclusion  to  which  we  have  come.  The  question  very 
naturally  arises,  "Was  this  story  believed  at  the  time? 
It  seems  to  be  a  plain  case,  that  the  disciples  of  Christ 
made  out  very  decisive  evidence  of  their  divine  commis- 
sion ;  but  the  people  who  lived  at  that  time,  and  upon  the 
spot,  had  a  much  better  opportunity  of  judging  in  this 
case  than  we  have. — Now,  did  they  believe  this  ac- 
count?" 

This  is  a  fair  question.  It  is  always  asked  in  similar 
cases.  A  merchant  will  ask,  "  Is  the  report  believed 
which  was  circulated  on  'Change  to-day  ?"  "  Was  itg-e- 
neraUy  believed  in  London  that  such  or  such  an  event 
would  take  place  ?"  And  this  belief  or  disbelief  on  the 
part  of  those  who  have  the  best  opportunities  of  knowing, 
is  sometimes  regarded  as  the  strongest  evidence  which 
can  be  procured.  It  is  right,  therefore,  Xo  ask  whether 
the  extraordinary  story  of  the  Christians  was  believed  by 
those  who  were  upon  the  spot  to  discover  error  or  im- 
posture, if  any  was  to  be  found. 

The  ansAver  is,  it  was  believed.  The  story  spread  with 
a  rapidity  to  which  no  other  revolution  in  the  public  mind 
can  afford  a  parallel.  When  the  hundred  and  twenty  as- 
sembled in  their  upper  room,  paganism  was  enjoying  un- 
disturbed and  unquestioned  possession  of  the  whole  Ro- 
man empire.  Paganism  reigned  in  every  crowded  city 
and  in  every  distant  province.  Her  temples  crowned  a 
thousand  summits ;  and  the  multitude,  whose  interests 
were  identified  with  the  support  of  her  rights,  might  at 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  161 

Power  of  truth.  Internal  evidence.  Unity  of  the  Scriptures. 

any  time  arm  themselves  with  all  the  power  of  the  Cae- 
sars to  resist  the  encroachments  of  truth.  A  hundred 
and  twenty,  with  the  story  of  a  crucified  Galilean  rising 
from  the  dead,  came  forth  to  attack  this  mighty  fabric  ; 
and  they  prevailed.  Opprobrium  and  ridicule,  gentle 
persuasion  and  stern  menaces ;  imprisonment,  fire  and 
sword  ;  torture  and  death,  tried  all  their  powers  in  vain. 
And  by  what  means  did  the  fearless  assailants  in  this 
most  unequal  war  prevail  against  such  an  array  as  this  ? 
"Why,  simply  by  reiterating  the  declaration,  Jesus  Christ 
did  rise  from  the  grave  ;  and  you  ought  to  repent  and  be- 
lieve on  him.  And  they  conquered.  "  The  truth  is  great, 
and  it  will  prevail,"  said  a  Roman  writer.  He  could  not 
have  found  an  example  like  this.  The  simple  declaration 
of  a  number  of  competent  witnesses,  after  a  most  ener- 
getic struggle,  prevails  over  one  of  the  greatest  civil  and 
military  powers  which  the  world  has  ever  seen.  Yes  ; 
the  story  was  believed.  It  spread  with  unexampled  ra- 
pidity, and  revolutionized  the  moral  world. 

But  we  must  pass  to  the  second  species  of  evidence  we 
have  enumerated. 

n.    INTERNAL    EVIDENCE. 

This  evidence  consists  of  an  examination  of  the  con- 
tents of  the  Bible,  to  see  whether  the  declarations  it  con- 
tains are  such  as  we  may  suppose  would  really  come  from 
our  Maker.  We  ought  to  enter  upon  such  an  examina- 
tion, however,  with  great  caution  ;  for  if  the  book  is  reab 
ly  a  message  from  Heaven,  we  are  to  receive  it,  whatever 
it  may  contain.  It  is  not  for  us  to  decide  what  our  Ma- 
ker ought,  and  what  he  ought  not,  to  communicate  to  us. 
It  is  interesting  however  to  examine  the  contents  of  the 
Scriptures,  to  see  the  indications,  with  which  the  volume 
is  filled,  that  it  is  from  God.  Some  of  these  indications  I 
shall  mention. 

1.  The  remarkable  simplicity  of  its  whole  design.     It 


162  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  7. 

The  Bible  a  number  of  books.  Its  single  object. 

seems  to  have  07ie  simple  and  single  object  from  the  be- 
ginning to  the  end  ;  and  this  is  very  remarkable,  if  we 
consider  how  many  distinct  authors  it  has,  and  in  how 
distant  periods  it  was  written.  The  Bible  is  not  a  book^ 
but  a  library.  It  consists  of  a  large  number  of  books  en- 
tirely separate  and  distinct,  bound  up  together.  The 
times  at  which  the  various  parts  were  written  are  scat- 
tered over  a  period  of  ffieen  hundred  years.  The  au- 
thors are  numerous.  It  would  be  a  very  interesting  ex- 
ercise for  young  persons  to  attempt  to  make  out  an  ac- 
curate list  of  them.  They  are  of  every  variety  of  cha- 
racter and  standing — learned  and  unlearned,  rich  and 
poor,  kings,  poets,  generals.  There  is  every  variety  in 
the  character  of  the  authors  and  of  the  style  ;  and  yet  one 
single,  simple  design  is  kept  in  view  from  the  beginning 
to  the  end,  with  a  steadiness  which  is  astonishing.  But 
what  is  that  object?  It  may  be  stated  thus  : 
-  The  Bible  is  a  history  of  the  redemption  of  our  race  by 
Jesus  Christ,  and  it  is  nothing  more.  From  the  begin- 
ning to  the  end  of  it,  with  a  very  few,  if  any  exceptions,  it 
is  notliing  but  that.  Open  at  Genesis  and  follow  on, 
chapter  after  chapter,  and  book  after  book,  until  you 
come  to  the  final  benediction  in  the  last  chapter  of  Reve- 
lation, it  all  bears  upon  this.  Now  if  this  book  was  plan- 
ned by  the  Supreme,  and  if  he  superintended  its  execu- 
tion during  the  fifteen  centuries  it  was  in  progress,  all 
this  is  easily  accounted  for.  Nothing  else  can  account 
for  it. 

But  I  must  show  more  fully  that  this  is  the  single  and 
simple  aim  of  the  Scriptures.  Let  us  briefly  review  its 
contents.  It  begins  by  explaining  simply  and  clearly  the 
creation  of  the  wcrld,  and  God's  design  in  creating  it. 
His  intention  was  to  have  had  a  happy  community  to 
tenant  it,  who  should  be  united  in  each  other,  and  united 
to  him  ;  forming  one  family  of  undivided  hearts  and  aims, 
all  interested  in  the  common  welfare,  and  all  looking  to 


Ch.    7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITV.  163 

The  Bible  a  history  of  Christ. 

him  as  to  the  common  bond  of  union  and  the  common 
source  of  happiness.  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy 
God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself," 
was  unquestionably  the  law  originally  written  on  the 
human  heart. 

Men  sinned,  however  ; — they  broke  God's  law,  and  the 
Bible  then  describes  the  consequences  of  sin,  in  bringing 
suffering  upon  the  human  family.  The  earth  was  filled 
with  violence.  One  dreadful  experiment  was  tried,  by 
the  flood,  of  the  power  of  punishment — retribution — to 
bring  men  back  to  duty,  but  they  who  escaped  the  flood 
escaped  only  to  go  on  in  sin. 

It  is  noticeable  that,  in  one  of  the  very  first  chapters  of 
the  Bible  the  coming  of  the  Savior  is  foretold,  and  from 
that  time  the  sacred  history  marks  out  and  follows  with 
minute  accuracy  the  line  of  succession  which  is  to  con- 
duct us  to  that  Savior.  There  were  a  vast  many  nations 
on  the  earth,  or  existing  in  embryo,  at  the  time  when  the 
Israelites  were  in  Egypt,  whose  history  is  far  more  im- 
portant, in  every  respect  but  one,  than  is  the  history 
of  the  Jews.  There  were  the  Egyptians,  the  Assyrians, 
and  the  Persians.  The  sacred  history  neglects  them  all, 
and  turns  its  whole  attention  to  a  body  of  Egyptian 
slaves;  and  why?  Why  it  was  because  among  these 
slaves  there  was  the   ancestor  of  the  coining  Messiah, 

The  Bible  represents  Jehovah  as  conducting  this  na- 
tion by  his  own  hand  to  a  counS-^y  which  was  to  be  their 
home,  in  order  that  he  might  preserve  them  separate  from 
the  rest  of  mankind,  and  make  them  the  keepers  of  his 
communications  with  men.  A  great  deal  of  the  Old  Tes- 
tament history  is  occupied  in  giving  us  an  account  of  the 
particular  institutions  established  among  this  people, 
and  of  the  circumstances  of  their  own  private  history. 
In  regard  to  their  institutions,  there  seem  to  have  been 
two  distinct  objects.  One  was  to  preserve  them  separate 
from  the  idolatrous  nations  around,  in  order  that  the  wor- 


164  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    7. 


Sacrifices.  Meaning  of  sacrifices. 

ship  of  the  true  God  might  be  the  better  preserved.  The 
other  object,  perhaps  more  important,  was  effected  by  the 
institution  of  sacrifices  ;  of  this  I  shall  presently  speak 
more  fully.  This  Jewish  nation,  however,  in  its  institu- 
tions and  history,  is  followed  by  the  sacred  writers,  who 
keep  all  the  time  as  close  as  possible  to  the  line  of  suc- 
cession leading  to  Jesus  Christ.  The  coming  Savior  is 
often  alluded  to,  especially  whenever  any  great  crisis  oc- 
curring in  their  history  furnishes  an  occasion  upon  which 
God  makes  to  some  leading  individual  a  distinct  commu- 
nication in  regard  to  his  plans. 

It  is  remarkable,  how  large  a  number  of  the  indivi- 
duals whose  lives  are  given  in  the  Old  Testament,  were 
the  ancestors  of  Christ,  and  how  steadily  there  is  kept 
in  view  the  future  coming  of  the  Son  of  God. 

I  have  mentioned  sacrifices.  The  design  of  Jehovah 
in  establishing  these  rites  so  early,  and  taking  such  ef- 
fectual precautions  to  secure  their  observance,  seems  to 
have  been  this  :  to  familiarize  the  minds  of  men  to  the 
idea,  that  there  muat  he  siomething  more  than  penitence  to 
atone  for  sin.  We  are  all  much  more  ready  to  admit  this 
in  reference  to  any  other  government  than  to  the  divine. 
Many  a  father  sees  the  inefficacy  of  pardon,  merely  up 
on  the  ground  of  sorrow  and  confession,  to  restrain  his 
sons  from  sin  ;  and  many  a  politician  will  admit  the  folly 
of  such  a  course  in  civil  society,  who  yet  think  that  God 
may  govern  his  dominions  on  such  a.  principle.  In  all 
God's  dealings,  however,  with  man,  he  has  taken  other 
ground.  Sacrifices  were  instituted  so  early,  that  they  have 
spread  to  almost  every  people  under  the  sun.  Wherever 
you  go — to  the  most  distant  heathen  nation — to  the  most 
barbarous  tribe — or  to  the  remotest  island  of  the  ocean, 
you  will  find  almost  all  prepared,  by  the  very  customs 
which  have  been  handed  down  from  the  time  of  Noah, 
to  admit  the  necessity,  that  there  must  be  retributive  suf- 
fering where  there  has  been  sin.  God  required  the  Jews, 


Ch.    7.]  EVIDENCES    OF   CHRISTIANITY.  165 

Their  moral  influence. 

when  they  had  done  wrong,  to  bring  an  offering  ;  not  to 
lead  them  to  suppose  that  the  sufferings  of  bulls  and 
goats  could  take  away  sin,  but  that  some  atonement  was 
necessary.  The  effect  upon  their  minds  was  undoubtedly 
this  : — A  man  having  committed  some  sin  ;  instead  of 
merely  confessing  his  guilt,  and  expecting  forgiveness  as 
a  matter  of  course,  came  with  the  innocent  dove,  or  the 
harmless  lamb,  and  offered  it  in  sacrifice  ;  and  v/hen  he 
did  it,  if  he  did  it  in  the  right  spirit,  he  unquestionably 
felt  that  his  sin  liad  done  an  injury  to  the  government  of 
God,  which  he,  himself,  could  not  repair.  He  could  not 
come  back  to  innocence  alone.  The  ceremony  must  have 
had  a  most  powerful  influence  in  producing  a  practical 
conviction  that  sin,  once  committed,  could  not  be  recall- 
ed by  the  individual  v»'ho  had  committed  it,  but  must  in- 
volve consequences  beyond  his  control.  That  is  precise- 
ly the  conviction  necessary  to  enable  us  to  avail  ourselves 
of  the  redemption  of  Christ.  It  is  exactly  the  prepara- 
tion of  heart  to  lead  us  to  him.  We  have  sinned,  and  the 
evil  we  have  done  it  is  out  of  our  power  to  remedy.  We 
may  stop  sinning,  but  the  evil  influence  of  our  past  guilt 
must  be  checked  by  some  other  agency  far  more  power- 
ful than  any  penitence  of  ours.  The  Jews,  then,  by  com- 
ing habitually  to  the  sacrifices  of  their  law,  had  this 
feeling  thoroughly  wrought  into  all  their  thoughts  and 
feelings  on  the  subject  of  sin  and  pardon.  When  they 
came  with  sincere  penitence  to  offer  the  sacrifice  requir- 
ed by  the  law,  and  with  such  a  feeling  as  I  have  described, 
they  were  undoubtedly  forgiven  through  the  mediation 
of  a  far  greater  sacrifice,  which  was  only  represented  by 
the  dove  or  the  lamb. 

If  we  thus  look  at  the  Jewish  history  and  institutions, 
and  see  their  spirit  and  design,  we  shall  see  that  they  ali 
point  to  Christ.  One  single  object  is  aimed  at  in  all. 
After  the  history  is  brought  down  to  the  return  from  the 
captivity,  it  is  suddenly  concluded — and  why?    Because 


166  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    7. 


Conclusion  of  the  book. 


all  is  now  ready  for  the  coming  of  Christ.  There  is  a 
chasm  of  some  hundred  years,  not  because  the  events  of 
that  time  are  less  interesting  than  of  the  preceding — to 
the  eye  of  the  mere  scholar  or  political  historian,  they 
are  more  so — but  because  they  do  not  bear  at  all  upon  the 
groat  event, — the  redeinption  of  mankind  by  Jesus  Christ 
— to  which  the  whole  Bible  tends.  The  nation  from  which 
the  promised  Savior  is  to  come,  is  followed  in  its  va- 
rious difficulties  and  adventures,  until  it  becomes  finally 
established  in  the  country  where  the  Messiah  is  to  ap- 
pear, and  then  left.  There  could  not  be  a  stronger  proof 
that  the  Bible  has  the  history  of  Christ  for  its  great  object, 
or  that  that  object  is  kept  steadily  in  view. 

As  we  draw  toward  the  developement  of  the  drama, 
however,  the  story  becomes  more  minute,  and  the  inte- 
rest increases.  The  great  Redeemer  at  length  appears. 
We  have,  from  four  separate  writers,  a  narrative  of  his 
life ;  we  have  a  simple  account  of  the  first  efforts  to  spread 
the  news  of  salvation  through  him  ;  we  have  a  few  of  the 
writings  of  some  of  those  wlio  originally  received  his  in 
structions,  and  then  a  revelation  of  the  future — in  some 
respects  clear  and  distinct  in  the  awful  pictures  of  scenes 
to  come  which  it  draws,  and  in  others  dark,  and  as  yet  un« 
intelligible  to  us — closes  the  volume. 

There  is  something  deeply  sublime  in  the  language  with 
which  this  final  conclusion  of  the  sacred  volume  is  announc- 
ed. Perhaps  it  was  intended  to  apply  particularly  to  the 
book  of  Sevelation  itself,  but  we  can  scarcely  read  it  with- 
out the  conviction,  that  the  writer  felt  that  he  was  bringing 
to  a  close  a  series  of  communications  from  heaven  which 
had  been  making  for  fifteen  hundred  years.  The  great 
subject  of  the  whole  was  now  fairly  presented  to  man- 
kind. The  nature  and  the  effects  of  sin,  the  way  of  sal- 
vation, and  the  future  scenes  through  which  we  are  all 
to  pass,  had  been  described,  and  he  closes  with  the  invi- 
tation— O  how  cordially  is  it  expressed^ — "  And  the  Spirit 


Ch.    7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  167 

Appropriate  language.       Advent  of  ibe  Siivior.       Its  time  and  place. 

and  the  bride  say,  Come, — and  let  him  that  heareth  say, 
Come  ;" — -that  is,  spread  the  invitation  far  and  wide.  Let 
every  one  that  heareth  it  repeat  the  sound.  "  Let  him  that 
is  atliirst  come,  and  whosoever  will,  let  him  partake  of  the 
water  of  life  freely." 

And  then  he  says — and  how  appropriate  for  the  last 
language  of  the  Bibie  ! — 

"  I  testify  unto  every  man  that  heareth  the  words  of  the 
prophecy  of  this  book,  if  any  man  shall  add  unto  these 
things,  God  shall  add  unto  him  the  plagues  that  are  written 
in  this  book  ;  and  if  any  man  shall  take  away  from  the 
words  of  the  book  of  this  prophecy,  God  shall  take  away 
his  part  out  of  the  book  of  life,  and  out  of  the  holy  city, 
and  from  the  things  which  are  written  in  this  book." 

Yes,  the  plan  and  object  of  the  Bible  is  single  and  simple 
from  beginning  to  end.  Amidst  all  that  endless  variety 
which  makes  it  an  inexhaustible  mine  of  interest  and  in- 
struction, the  great  ultimate  design  is  never  lost  sight  of 
or  forgotten.  That  design  is  the  redcnvption  of  a  lost 
world  hy  the  Son  of  God ;  a  design  which  is  surely  great 
enough  for  God  to  announce  to  his  creatures. 

There  is  something  interesting  in  the  time  and  place  se- 
lected for  the  advent  of  the  Savior.  This  earth  being  a 
globe,  of  course  has  not,  that  is,  its  surface  has  not  any 
geographical  centre  ;  but  if  we  take  into  view  its  mor:.i 
and  political  condition  and  history,  it  has  some  parts  far 
more  suitable  to  be  radiant  points  from  which  any  extra- 
ordinary message  from  heaven  is  to  be  disseminated  than 
others.  It  would  be  difficult  to  find  a  place  more. suita- 
ble for  sutn  A  purpose  than  the  very  country  chosen  by 
Jehovah  as  the  scene  of  the  sufferings  and  death  of  Christ 
Look  upon  the  map,  and  you  find  that  the  land  of  Canaan 
is  situated  upon  the  eastern  coast  of  the  Mediterranean 
sea ;  and  if  you  look  east,  west,  north,  and  south,  at  the 
various  connexions  of  this  spot,  you  will  find  that  no  other 
on  earth  will  compare  with  it  for  the  purpose  for  which 


168  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    7. 

The  Mediterranean  sea.  Interesting  associations. 

it  was  selected.  Egypt  and  the  other  regions  of  Africa 
on  the  south,  are  balanced  by  Syria  and  the  Caucasian 
countries  on  the  north.  There  were  the  Persian  and 
Assyrian  empires  on  the  east,  and  there  were  the  Grecian 
and  Roman  empires  on  the  west.  India  and  China,  with 
their  immense  multitudes,  are  upon  one  side,  and  modern 
France,  and  England,  and  Germany,  with  their  vast  poli- 
tical power,  upon  the  other.  Then  look  upon  the  Medi- 
terranean sea, — on  the  borders  of  which  Canaan  lies, — 
bathing  as  it  does  the  shores  of  three  quarters  of  the 
globe,  and  bearing  upon  its  bosom  almost  every  ship  that 
sailed  for  the  first  five  thousand  years  of  the  earth's  his- 
tory. Palestine  is  a  most  remarkable  spot  for  such  a  pur- 
pose. If  no  such  communication  had  ever  been  made  from 
heaven,  and  the  earth  had  remained  in  darkness  and  pa- 
ganism to  the  present  day,  its  history  having  remained, 
in  other  respects,  the  same  as  it  has  been ;  and  we  had 
looked  over  it  to  find  the  best  station  for  an  embassy 
from  above,  Judta  would  have  been  the  very  spot.  We 
should  have  pointed  to  the  Levant,  and  said,  here  is  the 
moral  centre  of  the  world.  If  a  missionary  from  lieaYen 
is  to  "be  sent,  let  him  be  stationed  here. 

It  is  astonishing  how  much  of  the  interesting  history 
of  the  human  race  has  had  for  its  scene  the  shores  of  the 
Mediterranean.  Egypt  is  there.  There  is  Greece.  Xerx- 
es, Darius,  Solomon,  Caesar,  Hannibal,  knew  no  extended 
sea  but  the  Mediterranean.  The  mighty  armies  of  Persia, 
and  the  smaller,  but  invincible  bands  of  the  Grecians, 
passed  its  tributaries.  Pompey  fled  across  it — the  fleets 
of  Rome  and  Carthage  sustained  their  deadly  struggles 
upon  its  waters  ;  and,  until  the  discovery  of  the  passage 
round  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  the  commerce  of  the 
world  passed  through  the  ports  of  the  Mediterranean.  If 
we  go  back  to  ancient  ages,  we  find  the  Phenician  sai- 
lors— the  first  who  ventured  upon  the  unstable  element — 
slowly  and  fearfully  steering  their  little  barks  along  the 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OP    CHRISTIANITY.  169 

Clidiacter  of  God. 

shores  of  this  sea  ;  and  if  we  come  down  to  modern 
times,  we  see  the  men  of  war  of  every  nation  proudly- 
ploughing  its  waves,  or  riding  at  anchor  in  its  harbors. 
There  is  not  a  region  upon  the  face  of  the  earth  so  asso- 
ciated with  the  recollection  of  all  that  is  interesting  in 
the  history  of  our  race,  as  the  shores  of  the  Mediterra- 
nean sea  ;  nor  a  place  more  likely  to  be  chosen  by  the 
Creator  as  the  spot  where  he  would  establish  his  com- 
munication with  men,  than  the  land  of  Judea. 

The  time  selected  is  as  worthy  of  notice  as  the  place; 
I  irean  now,  the  time  of  the  advent  of  the  Messiah.  The 
world  had  been  the  scene  of  war  and  bloodshed  for  many 
centuries — emj)ire  after  empire  had  arisen  upon  the  ruins 
of  the  preceding,  none  however  obtaining  a  very  gene- 
ral sway  ;  at  last  the  Roman  power  obtained  universal 
ascendancy — and  all  was  at  peace.  A  very  considerable 
degree  of  civilization  and  knowledge  prevailed  over  a 
great  part  of  the  then  known  world  ;  and  every  thing 
was  favorable  to  the  announcement  and  rapid  spread  of 
a  message  from  heaven,  provided  that  the  message  itself 
should  come  properly  authenticated.  The  message  did 
come,  and  it  was  properly  authenticated  ;  and  the  pecu- 
liar suitableness  of  the  time  and  place  selected  was  seen 
in  the  very  rapid  spread  of  the  Gospel  over  almost  half 
the  globe. 

There  is  another  topic  of  internal  evidence  of  the  truth 
of  Christianity.  The  character  and  administration  of 
God,  as  exhibited  in  tlie  Bible,  correspond  precisely  with 
the  same  character  and  administration  as  exhibited  in  the 
light  of  nature.  They  both  exhibit  God  as  most  benevo- 
lent in  his  character,  but  most  decided  and  efficient  in 
his  government.  In  both,  we  find  him  providing  most 
fully  for  the  happiness  of  his  creatures  ;  but  in  both  we 
see  him  froxvning  upon  sin  with  an  awful  severity  of 
judgment.     This  is  a  fundamental  point,  and  it  ought  to 

8 


ItO  YOUNG   CHRISTIAN.  [Cll.  7. 

Language  of  nature;       Of  the  Bible.        Tlie  sufferer  in  the  hospital. 

be  fully  understood.  Let  us  look  then  at  God  as  he  re- 
veals himself  in  his  providence,  compared  with  the  views 
of  him  which  the  Bible  presents. 

See  yonder  child,  beginning  life  with  streams  of  en- 
joyment coming  in  at  every  sense  ;  he  is  so  formed  that 
every  thing  he  has  to  do  is  a  source  of  delight — he  has 
an  eye ;  God  has  contrived  it  most  ingeniously,  to  be  the 
means  by  which  pleasure  comes  in  every  moment  to 
him — he  has  an  ear,  so  intricately  formed  that  no  ana- 
tomist or  physiologist  has  yet  been  able  to  understand 
its  mysteries.  God  has  so  planned  it,  that  he  takes  in 
with  deliglit  the  sounds  which  float  around  him.  How 
many  times,  and  in  how  many  ways,  does  he  find  enjoy- 
ment by  its  instrumentality!  The  tones  of  conversa- 
tion— the  evening  song  of  his  mother — the  hum  of  the 
insect — the  noise  of  the  storm — the  rumbling  of  distant 
thunder ; — for  how  many  different  but  delightful  emo- 
tions has  the  Creator  provided  !  So  with  all  the  other 
senses  ;  and  now,  after  you  have  examined  in  this  way 
the  whole  structure,  body  and  mind,  of  this  being,  follow 
him  out  to  a  summer's  walk,  and  see  how  a  benevolent 
Creator  pours  upon  him,  from  all  the  scenery  of  nature, 
an  almost  overwhelming  tide  of  delight.  God  smiles 
upon  him  in  the  aspect  of  the  blue  heavens,  in  the  ver- 
dure of  the  fiekls,  in  tlie  balmy  breath  of  air  upon  his 
cheek — and  in  the  very  powers  and  faculties  themselves, 
which  he  has  so  formed  that  every  motion  is  delight, 
and  every  pulsation  a  thrill  of  pleasure.  Such  a  revela- 
tion does  nature  make  to  us  of  the  character  of  God,  and 
of  his  feelings  toward  his  creatures ;  and  the  Bible  cor- 
responds— "  God  is  love." 

But  nature  speaks  to  us  sometimes  in  another  tone. 
Let  this  child  grow  up,  and  abandon  himself  to  vice  and 
crime,  and  after  the  lapse  of  a  iew  years  let  us  see  him 
again.  How  changed  will  be  the  scene  !  To  see  him,  you 
must  follow  me  to  the  hospital-room  of  an  alms-house ; 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  171 

The  awful  misery  which  vice  sometimes  brings  upon  its  votaries. 

for  he  has  given  himself  up  to  vice,  and  endured  sufTering 
as  a  vagabond  in  the  streets,  until  society  can  no  longer 
endure  to  witness  his  misery,  and  they  send  him  to  an  asy- 
lum out  of  their  sight,  in  mercy  both  to  themselves  and 
to  him.  He  lies  upon  his  bed  of  straw  in  uninterrupted 
agony — his  bones  are  gnawed,  and  his  flesh  corroded 
by  disease — every  motion  is  torment,  every  pulsation  is 
agony  ;  for  the  God  who  has  so  formed  the  human  con- 
stitution, that  in  innocence,  and  in  the  health  which  ge- 
nerally attends  it,  all  is  happiness  and  peace,  has  yet 
so  formed  it,  that  vice  can  bring  upon  it  sufferings — awful 
sufferings,  of  which  no  one  but  the  miserable  victim  can 
conceive.  I  once  saw  in  an  alms-house,  a  sufferer  whose 
picture  has  been  in  my  imagination  while  writing  the 
above.  I  have  used  general  terms  in  my  description.  I 
might  have  given  a  much  more  detailed  and  vivid  pic- 
ture of  his  condition,  but  it  was  too  shocking.  Were  my 
readers  to  see  the  scene,  even  through  the  medium  of  a 
description  of  ordinary  clearness,  the  image  of  it  would 
haunt  them  day  and  night.  As  I  stood  by  the  side  of  this 
man,  and  reflected  that  God  had  brought  him  into  that 
condition,  and  that  God  was  Iwlding  him  there,  and  pro- 
bably would  hold  him  in  the  same  awful  suffering  while 
life  should  remain,  I  could  not  help  saying  to  myself, 
"With  how  efficient  and  decided  a  moral  Governor  have 
we  to  do  !"  No  man  would  have  held  this  miserable  being 
in  his  sufl*erings  a  moment :  the  superintendent  of  the 
nospital  would  have  released  him  instantly,  if  it  had  been 
in  his  power  ;  but  God  had  the  power,  and  he  held  the 
guilty  breaker  of  his  law  under  the  dreadful  v/eight  of  its 
penalty.  Man  shrinks  from  witnessing  suffering,  even 
where  it  is  necessary  to  inflict  it ;  but  this  feeling  will 
not  measure,  and  it  has  no  power  to  limit  God's  dreadful 
energy  in  the  punishment  of  sin.  All  nature  tells  us  so, 
and  the  language  that  the  Bible  uses  is  the  same — "  God 
is  a  consuming  fire."    Our  feelings  can  no  more  contem- 


173  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    7. 

Jehovah  just,  as  well  as  merciful.  Butler's  Analogy. 

plate  with  composure,  as  our  hearts  are  now  constituted^ 
the  judgments  which  the  Bible  denounces  against  the 
wicked  in  another  world,  than  they  can  the  agonies  of 
delirium  tremens,  or  the  gnawings  of  tlie  diseases  with 
which  God  overwhelms  the  dissipated  and  the  vile.  In 
both  cases  there  is  a  severity  whose  justice  we  must  ad- 
mit, but  whose  consequences  we  cannot  calmly  follow. 
If  any  one  thinks  that  I  describe  the  character  of  God 
in  too  dark  and  gloomy  colors,  I  have  only  to  say, 
that  all  nature  and  all  revelation  unite  in  painting  God  in 
the  most  dark  and  gloomy  colors  possible,,  as  he  exhibits 
himself  toward  those  who  persist  in  breaking  his  law. 
He  is  love  to  his  friends,  but  he  is  a  consuming  fire  to 
his  foes  ;  and  every  one  ought  to  go  to  the  judgment,  ex- 
pecting to  find  a  Monarch  thus  decided  and  efficient  in 
the  execution  of  his  laws,  presiding  there. 

"  The  Lord  reigneth,  let  the  earth  re;o2ce,"  says  the 
Psalmist ;  and  again  he  says,  "  The  Lord  reigneth,  let 
the  people  tremble.^'*  We  have  abundant  evidence,  both 
in  nature  and  revelation,  that  we  must  rejoice  with  trem- 
bling, under  the  government  of  God  ;  for  that  govern- 
ment is  most  eflicient  and  decided  against  sin — and  we 
are  sinners. 

There  are  many  other  points  of  correspondence  be- 
tween the  character  and  administration  of  God,  as  de- 
scribed in  the  Bible,  and  as  exhibited  in  the  constitution 
of  nature ;  but  I  must  not  stop  now  to  describe  them. 
Butler,  in  an  admirable  Avork  usually  called  Butler's  Ana- 
logy, has  explored  this  ground  fully ;  and  I  would  re- 
commend to  all  my  readers  who  take  an  interest  in  this 
subject,  to  obtain  and  study  that  work.  I  say  studij  it, 
for  it  is  not  a  work  to  be  merely  read,  in  the  ordinary 
sense  of  that  term  ;  it  must  be  most  thoroughly  studied, 
and  studied  too  by  minds  in  no  inconsiderable  degree 
mature,  in  order  to  be  fully  appreciated. 

I  have  endeavored,  by  thus  mentioning  several  points 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  173 

III.  Experimental  evidence. 

in  which  evidence  may  be  found  in  favor  of  the  truth  of 
the  Scriptures,  from  an  examination  of  their  contents,  to 
illustrate  the  nature  of  the  Internal  Evidence.  I  have  not 
designed  to  present  the  argument  fully.*  Having  accom- 
plished, however,  the  purpose  intended,  I  now  proceed  to 
the  third  head  I  proposed. 

III.    EXPERIMENTAL    EVIDENCE. 

The  Experimental  Evidence  of  the  truth  of  Christia- 
nity is  its  moral  power  over  the  human  heart.  This  is 
the  most  convincing  of  all.  It  is  direct.  There  is  no  la- 
borious examination  of  witnesses  to  bring  the  truth  to  us 
— no  groping  in  the  dimness  of  antient  times,  and  strain- 
ing the  sight  to  ascertain  the  forms  of  objects  and  tlie  cha- 
racters of  occurrences  there.  All  is  before  us.  We  can 
see  distinctly, — for  the  proof  is  near.  We  can  examine  it 
minutely  and  leisurely, — for  it  is  constantly  recurring. 

I  have  remarked,  that  I  considered  this  species  of  evi- 
dence far  more  calculated  to  make  a  strong  impression 
upon  the  mind  than  either  of  the  two  preceding  heads  I 
have  described,  on  account  of  the  difficulty,  on  the  part 
of  those  whose  lives  are  not  devoted  to  literary  pursuits, 
of  looking  back  eighteen  hundred  years,  and  judging, 
with  confidence  of  evidence  in  regard  to  events  that  oc- 
curred then.  But  I  have  often  heard  it  remarked,  by  men 
amply  qualified  to  investigate  such  subjects,  that  the 
power  of  the  Bible,  as  they  have  often  seen  it  exerted,  in 
elevating  to  virtue  and  to  happiness  some  miserable  vic- 
tim of  vice  and  crime,  has  made  a  far  stronger  impression 
upon  them,  in  favor  of  its  divine  origin,  than  any  exami- 

*  I  would  recommend  to  those  of  my  readers  who  are  interested  in 
this  part  of  my  subject,  the  examination  of  the  following  works:  Chal- 
mer's  Evidences  of  Christianily;  Paley's  do.;  Alexander's  do.;  Les« 
lie's  Short  Method  with  Deists;  Paley's  Horae  Paulinas;  Butler's 
Analogy. 


174  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  7. 

Case  of  sickness  supposed.  Medicine.  Proof  of  it. 

nation  of  the  labored  arguments  of  learned  men.  Now 
this  must  be  so,  not  only  in  the  case  of  Christianity,  but 
in  all  similar  cases. 

Suppose  that  some  dreadful  plague  should  break  out 
in  London,  and  after  raging  for  many  months, — suspend- 
ing all  business,  driving  away  from  the  city  all  who 
could  fly,  and  carrying  consternation  and  death  into  all 
the  families  that  should  remain, — suppose  that,  after  all 
this,  the  news  should  arrive,  that  in  some  distant  part  of 
the  earth  a  remedy  had  been  discovered  for  the  disease. 
We  will  imagine  it  to  have  been  in  China.  Perhaps  the 
same  disease  had  broken  out  in  former  times  at  Canton, 
and  some  plant  growing  in  that  vicinity  had  been  found 
to  be  a  specific  against  it :  it  would  cure  the  sick  and  pro- 
tect the  healthy.  The  government  of  Great  Britain  con- 
cludes to  send  a  ship  to  China  to  obtain  a  supply  of  the 
remedy.  After  waiting  the  proper  time  for  the  voyage,  a 
telegraph  announces  the  arrival  of  the  ship  on  her  return. 
She  sails  up  the  Thames,  comes  to  anchor,  and  soon  the 
remedy  for  which  they  have  all  waited  so  anxiously  is  in 
full  circulation  about  the  city.  Now,  what  will  interest  the 
people  of  London  most  in  such  a  case  ?  Will  it  be  an  ex- 
amination of  the  officers  of  that  ship^  in  order  to  satisfy 
themselves  that  they  are  not  imposing  some  spurious  ar- 
ticle on  the  nation  ?  Will  they  lay  aside  tlie  remedy  itself, 
and  allow  the  sick  to  die,  and  the  well  to  be  attacked, 
while  they  examine  the  proof  that  this  ship  has  actually 
been  to  China,  and  that  her  supercargo  was  really  faithful 
in  obtaining  the  identical  article  for  which  he  was  sent  ? 
No — all  such  inquiries,  if  they  are  made  at  all,  would  be 
left  to  the  few  official  agents  by  whom  the  ship  had  been 
employed.  The  mass  of  the  population  would  turn  them- 
selves to  the  remedy  itself,  with  the  eager  question, 
"Will  this  medicine  cure?"  And,  notwithstanding  any 
scepticism  or  opposition  of  a  few  who  might  be  interest- 
ed in  sustaining  some  other  mode  of  treatment,  the  im- 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  175 


The  Mother. 


ported  remedy,  if  found  successful  upon  trials  would 
soon  be  in  universal  use  among  the  sick  all  over  the  city. 

Now,  shall  a  man  who  is  still  under  the  power  and  do- 
minion of  sin,  with  this  great  remedy  (wliich  has  saved, 
and  is  continually  saving  thousands  all  around  him,)  en- 
tirely within  his  reach,  shall  he  waste  his  time  in  specu- 
lations and  inquiries  in  regard  to  the  manner  in  which 
Christianity  came  into  the  world,  instead  of  flying  to  it 
at  once  as  the  remedy  for  all  his  sin  and  suffering  ?  No  : 
come  at  once  and  try  the  remedy.  It  restores  others  to 
health  and  happiness,  and  it  will  restore  you.  Come  and 
be  saved  by  it,  and  then  you  may  inquire  at  your  leisure 
how  it  came  into  the  world. 

In  regard  to  the  case  supposed  above,  I  liave  spoken 
of  the  scepticism  or  opposition  of  those  who  might  be  in- 
terested in  some  other  mode  of  treatment.  Suppose  one 
of  these  men,  interested  in  the  continuance  of  the  disease, 
and  inhuman  enough  to  desire  on  this  account  to  perpe- 
tuate the  rriscry  of  his  fellows,  should  come  into  some 
wretched  tenement  in  a  crowded  part  of  the  city,  and 
should  find  there  one  or  two  inmates  under  all  the 
power  of  the  disease.  They  are  children.  The  mother 
has  been  away  to  some  public  office  from  which  the  re- 
medy is  distributed  to  the  poor,  and  has  obtained  a  sup- 
ply for  her  dying  boys.  As  she  comes  to  their  bedside, 
and  begins  with  trembling  joy  to  administer  it,  her  hand 
is  arrested  by  the  visiter,  who  says  to  her,  "  Stop  ;  how 
do  you  know  that  this  is  a  real  remedy  for  this  disease. 
I  believe  it  is  all  an  imposition.  That  ship  never  came 
from  China.  I  believe  the  captain  and  crev/  united  in  an 
attempt  to  impose  upon  the  community  ;  at  any  rate,  you 
have  yet  no  evidence  to  the  contrary.  You  have  not  ex- 
amined her  papers — you  have  seen  no  official  documents 
— you  have  heard  no  witnesses.  If  you  are  wise  you 
will  look  into  this  subject  a  little  before  you  place  your 


176  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  7. 

The  mother  and  her  sick  sons.  The  unheliever. 

confidence  in  a  remedy  which  will  probably,  after  all, 
prove  only  imposture  and  delusion." 

What  would  be  the  reply  ?  The  mother,  if  she  should 
stop  to  say  any  thing,  would  say  this  : 

*'  I  have  not  time  to  examine  any  documents  or  wit- 
nesses;  my  children  are  dying.  Beside,  this  medicine 
has  cured  hundreds  in  this  city,  and  is  curing  hundreds 
more.  Nay,  I  was  myself  sick,  and  it  cured  me.  That  is 
the  evidence  I  rely  upon.  I  believe  it  will  save  them, 
and  there  is  nothing  else  to  try." 

That  is  in  substance  what  she  would  say,  and  they  who 
wish  to  be  saved  from  sin  should  say  the  same.  You  suf- 
fer now  under  this  disease,  and  you  must  suffer  more 
hereafter,  and  nothing  but  Christianity  pretends  to  he 
able  to  save.  It  is  successful,  wherever  it  is  tried.  Now 
suppose  an  infidel,  or  a  vicious  man,  interested  in  perpe- 
tuating sin  in  tliis  world,  and  inhuman  enough  to  be  will- 
ing that  the  sufferings  of  sin  should  continue  to  burden 
his  fellows,  should  come  and  say  to  you,  "  This  religion 
is  delusion — it  is  all  an  imposture."  You  need  not  go 
with  him  into  any  examination  of  documents  and  witness- 
es ;  you  ought  only  to  say,  *' Christianity  saves  others, 
and  makes  them  virtuous  and  happy — and  I  hope  it  will 
save  me." 

But  I  must  present  more  distinctly  the  evidence  that 
Christianity  has  power  to  rescue  from  sin,  and  that  it 
exhibits  this  power  now  in  the  world.  "  And  now  how 
shall  I  show  this  *?"  thought  I,  when  I  first  began  to  re- 
flect on  the  way  in  which  I  should  treat  this  part  of  my 
subject.  "  How  shall  I  present  most  clearly  and  vividly 
to  the  young,  the  moral  power  of  Christianity  ?"  I  thought 
first  of  the  elevated  rank  in  knowledge,  in  civilization,  to 
which  all  christian  nations  had  attained,  and  concluded  to 
show,  if  I  could,  that  the  passions  and  sins  of  men  always, 
when  left  to  themselves,  loaded  communities  with  a  bur- 
den which  kept  the  mind  from  expanding  and  the  arts  of  life 


Ch.   7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  177 

Power  ot  Christianity.  Particular  case. 

from  flourishing,  and  bound  down  the  whole  in  barbarism 
or  in  subjection  to  despotic  power.  Among  the  thousands 
of  nations  which  this  earth  has  seen,  there  have  not  been 
more  tlian  lialf  a  dozen  exceptions  to  this.  Christianity- 
controls  these  passions,  and  purifies  communities  to  such 
an  extent  that  inind  is  free  ;  and  then  the  energies  with 
which  God  has  provided  them  freely  expand.  Religion 
has  taken  off  the  pressure  which  had  imprisoned  them; 
and  thus  Christian  nations  have  arisen  to  a  rank,  and 
power,  and  freedom,  which  no  other  communities  have 
ever  attained.  There  is  not  a  savage  Christian  nation 
on  the  globe.  A  savage  Christian  !  It  is  a  contradiction 
in  terms. 

But  I  thought  that  such  general  views  and  statements 
were  not  calculated  to  produce  so  distinct  and  clear  an 
impression  upon  the  mind,  especiall)^  upon  the  young; 
and  then  I  thought  that  I  might  point  my  readers  to  par- 
ticular cases  which  have  occurred,  undoubtedly,  within 
the  observation  of  every  one.  There  is  not  a  village  in 
our  land  where  are  not  to  be  seen  some  of  the  triumphs 
of  the  Gospel.  There  is  a  vicious  man  reclaimed,  or  a 
careless,  selfish,  ungovernable  young  man  made  humble, 
and  faithful,  and  docile,  by  the  pov/er  of  the  Bible.  Such 
cases  are  within  the  observation  of  every  one  ;  and  if  each 
one  of  my  readers  would  look  at  some  such  case  which 
has  occurred  within  his  own  immediate  reach,  and  exa- 
mine all  its  circumstances,'  he  would  find  in  it  an  over- 
whelming proof  that  the  Bible  is  indeed  a  remedy  for  sin. 
But  the  difficulty  is,  that  such  cases  are  so  common  that 
they  lose  all  their  power  to  impress  us.  The  cases  of  reform 
from  vice  and  sin,  now  continually  taking  place  in  every 
truly  Christian  country,  would  be  regarded  with  admira- 
tion, were  they  solitary ;  but  they  are  common,  very  com- 
mon, and  thus  produce  a  comparatively  faint  impression. 

But  to  show  distinctly  the  efficacy  of  this  remedy  for 
sin,  I  shall  point  you  to  its  operation  in  particular  cases. 

8* 


178  YOUNG   CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    7. 


State  Piison.  Old  and  new  system  of  discipline. 

And  in  choosing  the  cases  to  present,  I  have  selected 
some  where  the  disease  had  indeed  made  great  progress, 
but  which  are  in  other  respects  verv^  common.  Tliey  are 
both  cases  of  convicts  in  a  State  Prison.  I  might  per- 
haps have  selected  narrations  far  more  interesting  and 
striking  in  their  attendant  circumstances,  but  I  have  cho- 
sen to  present  those  which  may  be  taken  as  a  fair  speci- 
men of  the  ordinary  effects  of  the  Bible  in  saving  from 
sin.  My  object  is  utility,  and  it  is  therefore  far  better  to 
secure  sound  logic  than  to  bring  forward  a  romantic 
story. 

The  reason  I  take  the  cases  of  convicts  is,  because  I 
am  now  considering  Christianity  in  regard  to  its  power 
to  heal  the  disease,  sin  ;  of  course,  the  more  violent  the 
form  of  the  disease,  the  more  clear  is  the  exhibition  of 
power  in  tlie  remedy  which  cures  it.  The  prisons  of  our 
country  may  be  considered  as  hospitals,  moral  hospitals, 
wbere  those  whose  diseases  have  become  so  violent  and 
malignant  th^t  it  is  no  longer  safe  to  allow  them  to  go  at 
large  in  society,  are  shut  up,  so  that  they  can  injure  no 
one,  at  least  for  a  time.  It  has  been,  and  is  now  the  prac- 
tice in  many  countries,  to  shut  up  these  miserable  victims 
together,  and  leave  them  to  themselves.  Of  course  they 
grew  worse  and  worse.  The  practice  is  as  absurd  as  it 
Would  be  to  send  a  hundred  patients,  in  all  the  stages  of 
fever,  consumption,  and  plague,  into  one  great  crowded 
hospital  together,  with  no  physician,  no  medicine,  and 
no  attendants  but  turnkeys,  and  there  to  leave  them,  each 
one  by  the  unobstructed  intercommunication  conveying 
his  own  peculiar  infection  to  all  the  rest ;  the  whole  ex- 
posed to  every  cause  that  can  aggravate  disease,  and  thus 
forming  one  living  mass  of  pestilence  and  corruption. 
Such  have  been  a  great  many  prisons,  and  those  who  en- 
tered them  came  out  far  worse  than  they  went  in. 

Some  philanthropists  formed,  some  years  ago,  the  plan 
of  visiting  these  prisons,  and  carrying  the  Bible  there, 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  179 

Stories  of  the  convicts.  The  disobedient  son. 

believing  that  its  moral  power  would  be  great  enough  to 
cure  even  those  desperate  cases  of  disease — and  it  has 
succeeded.  A  vast  number  of  the  most  abandoned  men 
have  been  entirely  reformed  by  it.  I  do  not  mean  that 
they  have  pretended  to  be  reformed  while  in  the  prison, 
but  have  proved  themselves  reformed  by  their  good  con- 
duct after  having  been  restored  to  society,  when  the  time 
of  their  imprisonment  had  expired. 

The  account  of  the  first  case  I  shall  mention  was  ta- 
ken down  from  the  individual's  own  lips.  There  is  no- 
thing extraordinary  in  it,  except  that  he  was  a  very  bad 
man.  I  give  the  account  in  his  own  language,  except  that 
I  have  in  one  or  two  instances  inserted  a  few  words  to 
make  the  sense  more  clear,  and  I  have  omitted  some  of 
the  very  frank  confessions  of  his  vices  and  crimes,  which 
could  not  be  properly  introduced  into  this  book. 

THE    FIRST    CONVICT^S    STORY. 

**  When  I  had  been  in  prison  about  eighteen  months 
I  began  to  think  of  my  past  ways,  and  to  see  that  I  had 
sinned  against  God — to  think  about  dying,  and  where  I 
should  go  v'hen  I  die  and  appear  before  God.  When  I 
first  came  here,  I  did  not  think  any  thing  about  dying ; 
I  had  no  just  idea  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  did  not 
know  any  thing  of  the  Lord.  I  first  began  to  think  about 
my  former  life  when  I  had  been  here  about  eighteen 
months.  Once  I  went  off  from  all  my  friends,  and  never 
let  any  of  them  know  where  I  was  going.  I  led  one  of 
my  brothers  away,  and  it  was  the  means  of  his  death.  Af- 
ter I  lost  my  brother  I  went  home  again,  and  my  father 
blamed  mc  for  leading  him  away.  I  had  been  two  years 
from  home,  and  my  parents  said  that  I  was  the  means  of 
my  brother's  death.  They  tried  to  m.ake  me  steady,  and 
get  me  work  at  home  then  ;  but  I  wouldn't  be  steady  more 
than  a  few  months  before  I  went  off  again.  My  father  told 


l90  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    7. 


C<)iivei*9atinii. 


me  I  was  fitting  myself  for  State's  Prison.  I  went  away, 
however,  and  it  was  only  about  two  months  before  1  com- 
mitted my  crime  and  was  put  into  jail.  That  was  the 
first  time  I  ever  saw  the  inside  of  Prison.  I  often  used  to 
think  of  my  brother  after  I  came  into  the  prison.  A  great 
many  nights  I  used  to  see  a  black  coffin  placed  before 
me,  and  hear  a  voice  telling  me  I  must  go  soon  and  fol- 
low him.  I  not  only  thought  of  these  things,  but  all  my 
wicked  thoughts  and  all  my  actions  were  presented  before 
me — what  I  had  done  and  how  I  had  walked  in  the  sight 
of  the  Lord.  I  used  to  be  a  very  vicious  man,  and  all  the 
places  where  I  had  been  would  appear  before  me.  And 
I  used  to  be  a  violent  blasphemer  too,  and  a  riotous  per- 
son ;  and  I  saw  a  sign  which  said,  this  is  the  road  adul- 
terous persons  and  blai-phcmers  go. 

"  After  1  had  thought  about  rny  wicked  life,  I  felt  that  I 
had  incurred  the  holy  displeasure  of  the  Lord,  and  de- 
served all  that  he  could  inflict  upon  me.  I  thought  that  I 
could  not  suffer  too  much.  I  could  then  see  the  hand  of 
the  Lord,  how  it  had  followed  me  in  every  place  where 
I  had  been.  I  found  that  it  was  the  law  of  the  Lord 
that  brought  me  here  for  sins  which  1  had  committed 
against  God,  and  not  against  my  fellow-men. ''  Here  the 
gentleman  who  was  visiting  him  asked  him, 
*'  How  does  your  heart  appear  to  you  now  ?" 
"My  heart  appears  at  times  set  upon  evil;  but  then 
again,  sometimes  I  feel  that  I  shall  get  to  heaven  ;  and 
then  again,  I  feel  very  much  discouraged.  Whenever 
wicked  thoughts  arise  in  my  heart,  I  sometimes  feel  that 
the  Lord  has  given  me  up.  Then  again,  there  is  some- 
thing to  enliven  my  feelings,  and  all  my  wicked  thoughts 
go  away;  my  worldly  thoughts  will  be  drawn  away,  and 
my  mind  will  be  on  heavenly  things.  I  did  not  know 
what  it  meant  when  my  heart  used  to  burn  within  me, 
until  1  asked  my  teacher  in  Sabbath  School,  if  man's  heart 
would  be  warm  when  he  had  n^hi  feelino-s  of  heart.'* 


Ch.    7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  181 

His  struggles  with  sin.  The  story  true. 

"  Do  you  find  temptation  to  sin  now  ?"  asked  the  gen- 
tleman. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  What  do  you  do  ?" 

"I  trust  in  the  Lord." 

**Do  you  yield  to  your  evil  passions  and  lusts  nowl" 

"  I  have,  sometimes.  I  feel  now  that  the  Lord  will 
keep  me  from  them.  There  is  nothing  tliat  causes  me  to 
grieve  so  as  that  very  thing." 

"Does  it  take  away  your  happiness?" 

"  It  did  for  a  time." 

*  What  security  can  you  have,  that  when  you  go  out, 
you  will  not  do  just  as  you  have  done?" 

"  All  my  hope  is  in  the  Lord.  I  rely  upon  the  mercy 
of  the  Lord  to  keep  me.  Of  myself,  I  can  do  nothing  ; 
I  rely  upon  the  mercy  of  the  Lord. 

"Was  you  a  drunken  man?" 

"  I  have  been  intoxicated  a  number  of  times,  but  1  was 
never  much  given  to  it." 

In  the  course  of  the  conversation  the  convict  said  : 

"I  want  to  ask  if,  after  men  have  repented  of  their 
sins,  there  will  ever  be  times  when  they  will  give  up  to 
their  lusts  ?" 

"  It  is  a  very  bad  sign  if  they  do,"  replied  the  gentle- 
man. 

"  Once,  when  I  was  greatly  tempted,  I  wept  before  the 
Lord  night  after  night,  and  there  was  a  man  appeared  to 
me  in  the  room,  and  said  to  me,  "  Thy  sins  are  pardon- 
ed ;"  and  since  that  I  have  been  no  more  tempted,  and  I 
think  it  was  to  show  me  that  I  had  trusted  too  much  to 
my  own  heart.  I  thought  I  had  been  so  long  without 
any  temptation  that  I  was  fairly  weaned.  I  thouglit  so; 
but  then  I  was  tempted,  and  now  I  know  I  trusted  mor 
to  my  own  heart  than  I  did  to  the  Lord." 

Such  was  the  substance  of  the  conversation,  taken 
down  by  the  gentleman  on  the  spot,  and  copied  by  me, 


162  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  7. 


Second  story.  Nature  of  ardent  spirit. 

for  this  book,  from  his  original  record.  And  I  beg  that 
my  readers  will  not  forget  that  my  object  in  presenting 
it,  is  not  to  offer  them  a  remarkable  or  an  interesting  sto- 
ry. There  is  nothing  remarkable  in  it,  and,  excepting 
for  the  purpose  of  my  argument,  nothing  particularly  in- 
teresting. It  is,  however,  a  remarkably  fair  specimen  of 
the  ordinary  operation  of  religious  truth,  in  convicting 
of  sin  and  bringing  man  back  to  his  duty. 

But  I  must  postpone  the  comments  upon  this  story 
which  I  intend  to  make,  until  I  have  given  the  second 
narrative.  The  reason  why  I  present  two  is,  because  no 
one  that  I  could  obtain  exhibits,  so  fully  as  I  could  wis)), 
all  the  important  points  I  wish  to  bring  to  view. 

SECOND    convict's    STORY. 

There  lived  in  one  of  tne  middle  states  some  years 
ago,  a  man  whom  I  shall  call  W.  I  suppress  his  real 
name.  His  character  was  bad,  and  he  lived  with  another 
man  whose  character  was  worse  than  his  own. 

His  employer  having  some  quarrel  with  anotiier  man, 
wanted  W.  to  kill  him.  He  endeavored  for  live  or  six 
months  to  induce  hioi  to  do  it,  but  he  did  not  succeed. 
W.  however  showed  a  degree  of  indecision  about  it 
which  encouraged  his  wicked  employer  to  persevere.  A 
good  man  would  have  refused  an  application  like  that  in 
such  leriTis  and  in  such  a  manner  that  it  never  would  have 
been  renewed. 

The  employer  however  understood  his  character,  and, 
like  all  other  bad  men  who  endeavor  to  induce  others  to 
commit  crime,  he  knew  of  an  agent  which  would  cfiec- 
tually  assist  him  to  prevail  upon  W.  to  do  the  fatal  deed. 
That  agent  was  ardent  spirit — the  universal  stimulus  to 
crime.  He  accordingly  gave  it  to  him,  not  in  such  quan- 
tities as  completely  to  intoxicate  him,  but  moderately, 
only  enough  to   destroy  what  little  conscience  he  had. 


Ch.    7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  183 

W.'s  crime.  Learning  to  read  in  prison.  First  lesson. 

and  yet  leave  him,  in  asconsiderable  degree,  the  posses- 
sion of  his  faculties. 

After  he  had  drank  the  rum,  he  went  and  laid  down 
to  sleep  in  the  skirts  of  a  wood,  where  they  expected  to 
commit  the  murder.  In  a  little  while  another  man,  who 
had  been  employed  to  assist  in  this  work,  came  and  woke 
him  up,  and  said  to  him,  "  If  we  mean  to  do  any  thing, 
we  had  better  do  it  now."  W.  accordingly  rose,  and  they 
went  together.  When  they  came  to  their  victim,  W.  shot 
at  him,  and  then  his  accomplice  took  the  gun  and  beat 
him  over  the  head  till  he  was  dead. 

Two  persons  were  hung  for  this  crime,  and  W.  was 
sentenced  to  the  State  prison  for  a  long  time.  The  man 
whom  they  had  killed  was  a  very  bad  man  ;  but  as  W. 
afterward  said,  that  was  no  cloak  for  him. 

When  W.  came  to  the  prison,  he  was  very  ignorant; 
he  did  not  know  his  own  age  accurately,  and  he  could 
not  read.  There  was  in  that  prison,  however,  a  very  faith- 
ful chaplain,  who  knowing  that  the  Bible  alone  could  be 
the  means  of  reforming  the  miserable  convicts,  always 
placed  that  book  before  them  immediately.  When  they 
could  not  read,  he  used  to  teach  them.  I  have  been  told 
that  this  course  has  been  taken  to  teach  them  ;  the  first 
lesson  was  the  first  word  in  the  Bible — /-??. 

"  That  word  is — //i,"  the  teacher  would  say  to  the 
prisoner  in  his  cell — "  Can  you  see  how  many  letters 
there  are  in  it?" 

'*  Two,"  the  prisoner  would  reply,  after  examining  it. 

"  Yes,"  answers  the  teacher  :  "  The  first  letter  is 
called  i;  the  second,  n.  These  letters  are  very  common 
in  the  Bible,  and  in  all  reading;  see  if  you  can  find  ano- 
ther n  anywhere  on  this  page." 

The  prisoner  then  would  look  very  attentively  along 
the  lines  until  he  found  the  letter  required.  If  he  made 
a  mistake,  and  found  an  m  or  an  r  instead,  the  teacher 
would  explain  the  diflference,  and  call  his  attention  more 


Ig4  yOUNC    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  7. 

Ett'ects  of  the  Bil)Ie  upon  W.  Sins  against  God. 

fully  to  the  true  form  of  the  n.  He  would  also  explain  the 
difference  between  the  capital  and  small  t,  and  show  his 
pupil  that  he  must  expect  to  find  the  small  /,  generally. 
He  would  then  leave  him,  asking  him  to  find  as  many  of 
these  letters  as  he  could  before  the  teacher  should  come 
again.  The  next  lesson  would  be  tlie  next  word,  the  ; 
and  thus  the  pupil  would  go  on  slowly,  spelling  his  way, 
until  he  had  learned  to  read  for  himself. 

The  attempt  to  learn  to  read  was  proposed  to  W.  and 
he  commenced  it;  and  although  considerably  advanced 
in  life,  he  made  no  little  progress  in  his  work.  He  was 
soon  able  to  read  considerably;  and  as  the  truths  of  the 
word  of  God  came  home  to  his  mind  they  produced  their 
usual  effects  there  ;  they  led  him  to  see  his  sins,  and  to 
feel  them  ;  and  they  led  him  to  come  to  the  Savior  for 
pardon.  His  whole  character  was  changed  ;  but  I  must 
allow  him  to  describe  this  cliangc  in  his  own  words. 
These  words  were  taken  down  by  the  same  gentleman 
^i^hom  I  have  mentioned  before.  He  visited  him  in  pri- 
son, and  after  first  conversing  with  him  in  regard  to  the 
crime  for  which  he  had  been  committed,  asked  him, 

♦'  Well,  W.  how  do  this  and  all  your  other  sins  now 
appear  to  you  ?" 

*'  Very  great,"  said  he  ;  "  but  this  does  not  appear  so 
great  as  all  my  other  sins  against  God — cursing  and 
swearing,  and  getting  drunk.  When  I  first  began  to  re- 
flect in  my  cell,  I  saw  my  sins  so  great  that  I  felt  I  could 
not  be  forgiven.  I  was  sitting  down  one  day  at  my  work 
in  the  prison,  and  the  chaplain  came  along  and  asked  me 
my  crime.     I  told  him. 

"  '  That,'  said  he,  '  is  one  of  the  greatest  crimes  ;  but 
then  you  may  rcaiember  David's  sin,  and  he  was  for- 
given. Let  your  crime  be  as  great  as  it  will,  pray  to 
God,  and  put  your  trust  in  him,  and  you  shall  find  rest  to 
your  soul.' 

"  He  told  me  also,  that  if  I  could  not  read,  he  would 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  185 


W.'s  menial  suffering. 


visit  me  in  my  cell,  and  put  me  in  the  way.  I  shall  ever 
love  him  while  God  gives  me  breath  ;  I  shall  love  the 
chaplain,  for  he  put  me  in  the  way  to  obtain  the  salvation 
of  my  soul ;  he  made  me  promise  him  faithfully  that  I 
would  go  to  God,  and  try  to  find  mercy;  and  yet,  mas^ 
ter,  I  had,  doubt  in  my  heart — my  sins  were  so  heavy — 
whether  I  should  be  forgiven.  The  chaplain  soon  left 
me,  and  I  went  into  my  cell  and  poured  out  my  heart 
to  God  to  have  mercy  on  me.  The  more  I  prayed  the 
more  miserable  I  grew.  Heavier  and  heavier  were  my 
sins. 

"  The  next  day  Mr.  B.  came  along,  and  I  asked  him  to 
read  a  chapter  to  me;  and,  as  God  would  have  it,  he 
turned  to  the  55th  chapter  of  Isaiah.  It  said,  "Every 
one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters,  and  he  that 
hath  no  money,  come  ye,  buy  wine  and  milk  without 
price.*'  He  read  along  to  where  the  Prophet  says,  "  Let 
the  wicked  forsake  his  way,  and  the  unrighteous  man  his 
thoughts,  and  let,  him  return  unto  the  Lord,  and  he  will 
have  mercy  upon  him,  and  to  our  God,  for  he  will  abun- 
dantly pardon.  For  my  thoughts  are  not  your  thoughts, 
neither  are  your  ways  my  ways,  saith  the  Lord.  For  as 
the  heavens  are  higher  than  the  earth,  so  are  my  ways 
higher  than  your  ways,  and  my  thoughts  than  your 
thoughts." 

'*  I  found  this  gave  me  great  encouragement  to  go  on 
to  pray,  to  see  if  I  could  find  relief  from  all  my  troubles 
— the  load  of  sin  that  was  on  my  heart.  I  thought  and 
prayed,  and  the  more  I  prayed  the  more  wretched  1 
grew — the  heavier  my  sins  appeared  to  be. 

"A  night  or  two  after  that  the  chaplain  came  to  my 
cell  and  asked  me  how  I  felt.  I  told  him  my  sins  were 
greater  than  I  could  bear — so  guilty — so  heavy.  He  ask- 
ed me  if  I  thought  praying  would  make  my  sins  any  less, 
I  gave  him  no  answer.  He  soon  left  me,  and  I  went  again 
to  prayer.    I  was  almost  fit  to  expire.    In  all  my  sorrows 


186  VOUiN'G    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   7. 

His  prayer.  His  way  of  finding  the  Slst  Psalm, 

I  had  not  a  right  sorrow.  My  sorrow  was  because  I  had 
sinned  against  man. 

"The  Sunday  following, just  after  I  had  carried  my 
dinner  into  my  cell,  I  put  ray  dinner  down,  and  I  went 
to  prayer.  I  rose,  and  just  as  I  rose  from  my  prayer  the 
Chaplain  was  at  the  door.  *  We  are  all  guilty  creatures,' 
he  said  to  me,  'and  we  cannot  be  saved  except  Go{\,  for 
Chrisfs  sake,  will  save  us.  If  we  pray  and  go  to  God, 
we  must  go  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ;  if  we  expect  to 
be  saved,  we  must  be  saved  through  the  blood  and  right- 
eousness of  Jesus  Christ.'  Then  I  picked  up  encourage- 
ment. 

*'  *  The  sins  which  you  have  committed,'  he  went  on, 
•  are  against  your  fellow  creatures,  but  they  are  much  more 
against  God.^  Now  I  never  knew  before  that  they  were 
against  God.  When  the  chaplain  left  me  I  went  to 
prayer  again.  I  could  eat  nothing  that  day.  I  did  not 
eat  a  mouthful. 

*'  I  recollected  at  that  time  that  a  minister  had  told  me, 
whenever  I  had  a  chapter  read,  to  have  the  51  st  Psalm. 
I  could  not  see  any  body  to  get  to  read  it,  and  how  to 
find  it  I  did  not  know,  and  the  Sunday  following,  before 
the  keeper  unlocked  the  door,  I  rose  up  and  I  went  to 
prayer,  and  I  prayed,  *  O  Lord,  thou  knowest  I  am  igno- 
rant, brought  up  in  ignorance.  Thou  knowest  my  bring- 
ing up.  Nothing  is  too  hard  for  thee  to  do.  May  it  please 
thee,  O  Lord,  to  show  me  that  chapter  that  I  may  read  it 
with  understanding.'  I  rose  from  prayer,  and  went  to 
my  Bible  and  took  it  up.  I  began  at  the  first  Psalm,  and 
turned  over  and  counted  every  Psalm,  and  it  appeared  to 
me  that  God  was  witli  me,  and  I  counted  right  to  the  51st 
Psalm,  I  could  read  a  little,  and  I  begun  to  spell  H-a-v-e 
m-e-r-c-y  <fec. ;  I  looked  over  the  Psalm  and  spelt  it,  and 
read  it,  and  then  put  the  Bible  down,  and  fell  upon  my 
knees  and  prayed:  'Have  mercy  upon  me;  O  God,  ac- 
cording unto  the  multitude  of  tliy  tender  mercies  blot  out 


Ch.    7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  187 

His  relief. 


my  transgressions.  Wash  me  thoroughly  from  mine  ini- 
quities,and  cleanse  me  from  my  sins,  for  my  sin  is  ever  be- 
fore me.  Against  thee,  thee  only  have  I  sinned,  and  done 
this  evil  in  thy  sight ;  that  thou  mightest  be  justified  when 
thou  speakest,  and  clear  when  thou  judgest.' 

'*When  I  came  to  the  words,  'Deliver  me  from  blood- 
guiltiness,'  I  was  struck  dumb.  I  could  not  say  any  more 
at  that  time.  I  fell  upon  my  knees  and  prayed  to  God  to 
have  mercy  upon  me,  for  Christ's  sake.  But  I  only  grew 
more  and  more  miserable.  The  load  of  my  sins  was  hea- 
vier and  heavier. 

*'  All  that  I  had  ever  done  came  plain  and  open  in  my 
sight,  and  I  was  led  to  see  that  I  must  perish  ;  there  was 
no  help  for  me  ;  all  my  sin  was  upon  my  own  head." 

Such  is  the  miserable  criminal's  account  of  the  suffer- 
ing to  which  he  was  brought  by  the  sense  of  guilt  whicli 
the  Bible  was  the  means  of  fastening  upon  his  soul.  He 
continued  in  this  state  for  some  time,  until  at  last,  as  he 
himself  describes  it,  one  day,  when  he  was  praying  in  his 
cell,  his  burden  of  guilt  was  removed.  He  felt  that  he 
might  hope  for  pardon  through  Jesus  Christ.  The  relief 
which  this  feeling  brought  over  his  mind  seems  to  have 
been  almost  indescribable.  Every  thing  wore  a  new  as- 
pect ;  even  the  gloomy  prison  seemed  a  cheerful  and 
happy  place.  His  expressions  of  joy  would  appear  al- 
most extravagant  to  any  person  not  sufficiently  acquaint- 
ed with  the  human  mind  to  understand  how  the  whole  as- 
pect of  external  objects  will  be  controlled  by  the  emo- 
tions which  reign  in  the  heart.  W.  concluded  his  narra- 
tion in  these  words  : 

"  And  ever  since  that,  master,  this  place  where  I  have 
been  confined,  has  been  to  me  more  like  a  palace  than  a 
prison — every  thing  goes  agreeable.  I  find  I  have  a  de- 
ceitful heart,  but  Jesus  tells  me,  if  I  lack  knowledge  he 
will  always  lend,  if  I  cast  my  care  on  Jesus  and  not  for- 
get to  pray.     It  is  my  prayer  morning  and  evening,  that 


188  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   7. 

Close  of  tijc  convicts'  stories.  Cliariestown  State  Prison. 

I  may  hold  out.  if  I  die  here,  let  me  die,  Lord,  in  thine 
arms.  I  have  great  reason  to  bless  this  institution,  and 
every  stone  in  it." 

Now  although  it  is  not  very  common  to  obtain,  in  writ- 
ing, accounts  of  changes  of  character  among  convicts  so 
full  and  minute  as  this,  yet  the  cases  themselves  are  very 
common  ;  so  common,  that  where  a  prison  is  regulated  in 
such  a  manner  that  the  prisoners  are  not  exposed  to  evil 
influence  from  each  other,  and  the  Bible  has  the  oppor- 
tunity to  try  its  power,  the  whole  aspect  of  the  prison  is 
changed.  After  I  had  written  the  above  I  was  convers- 
ing upon  the  subject  of  this  chapter  with  a  gentleman 
much  interested  in  the  improvement  of  prisons,  and  he 
asked  me  if  I  had  ever  visited  the  prison  at  Charleslown, 
Massachusetts.  I  told  him  I  had  not.  "  If  you  will  go 
over  wi*h  me,  Sabbath  morning,"  said  he,  '*  and  visit  the 
Sabbath  School  formed  there,  you  will  see  the  moral 
power  of  the  Bible  far  more  distinctly  than  you  can  by 
any  such  single  descriptions  as  these." 

I  of  course  gladly  availed  myself  of  the  opportunity 
to  accompany  hin'i.  We  walked  accordingly  on  Sabbath 
morning,  at  the  appointed  hour,  over  one  of  those  long 
bridges  which  connect  the  Peninsula  of  Boston  with  the 
main  land.  The  prison  is  situated  in  Charlestown,  on  a 
point  of  land  near  the  Charles  river.  The  yard  extends 
to  the  water's  edge,  to  afford  facilities  for  lading  and  un- 
lading the  boats  which  transport  stone  ;  hammering  stone 
for  building  being  the  principal  business  at  which  the 
convicts  are  employed. 

When  we  reached  the  outer  gate  of  the  prison  yard 
we  pushed  it  open,  and  on  closing  itself  after  we  had  en- 
tered, it  struck  a  bell,  which  gave  notice  to  the  keeper  of 
the  inner  gate  that  some  one  was  coming.  This  inner 
gate,  made  of  strong  iron  l«irs,  was  opened  for  us,  and 
we  passed  up  the  steps  of  a  large  stone  building,  through 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  189 

Old  building.  Crowded  niglil  rooms.  Arms.  Prison  yard. 

which  lay  our  passage  to  the  yard  beyond.  Tliis  build- 
ing consists  of  one  large  central  edifice,  occupied  by  the 
family  of  the  warden  and  by  some  of  the  keepers,  and 
two  extensive  wings.  In  these  wings  the  prisoners  were 
formerly  confined,  in  rooms  of  moderate  size ;  many 
convicts  however  being  lodged  in  one  room.  This  was 
the  old  system  of  prison  discipline,  of  which  I  have  al- 
ready spoken,  and  the  prisoners  almost  invariably  grew 
worse  instead  of  better  under  it.  A  young  man,  perhaps 
just  beginning  a  career  of  vice,  or  overcome /or  the  first 
time  by  some  strong  temptation,  was  placed  during  the 
long  hours  of  the  night  in  one  of  these  crowded  rooms. 
Of  course  he  grew  worse  by  such  an  exposure.  Those 
who  had  grown  old  in  sin  instructed  him  in  all  their 
wicked  arts.  He  became  familiarized  to  infamy ;  and 
even  while  under  sentence  for  one  crime,  often  formed 
plans  for  others,  to  be  executed  as  soon  as  he  should 
escape  into  society  again.  The  consequence  was,  that 
these  night  rooms,  in  the  wings  of  this  great  building, 
were,  as  they  were  often  called,  schools  of  vice  and 
crime. 

The  first  room  we  entered  in  this  edifice  seemed  to  be 
a  sort  of  an  office,  and  a  row  of  swords  and  guns,  which 
were  arranged  there  ready  to  be  used  at  a  moment's  no- 
tice, proclaimed  the  intention  of  the  keepers  to  resort  to 
the  most  decided  measures  if  the  prisoners  should  make 
any  attempt  to  escape.  We  passed  through  this  room, 
and  one  or  two  others,  every  narrow  passage  being 
guarded  by  a  formidable  door  of  iron,  which  a  turnkey 
opened  and  shut  for  us  as  we  passed. 

We  entered  a  spacious  and  beautiful  yard  in  the  rear 
of  this  building.  I  say  it  was  beautiful,  because  it  struck 
the  eye  most  pleasantly  by  its  expression  of  neatness  and 
industry.  It  was  spacious,  and  extensive  shops  were 
arranged  aiound  it,  in  which  the  convicts  were  accustom- 
ed to  work;  and  upon  the  smooth  and  level ^oo?',  1  had 


190  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Cll.  7* 

Chapel.  Prisoners  going  to  Sabbath  School. 

almost  said,  of  the  area  inclosed,  were  many  large  and 
beautiful  blocks  of  hammered  granite,  the  fruits  of  the 
prisoners'  industry. 

We  walked  across  the  yard  and  came  to  a  long  stone 
building  one  story  high,  behind  which  rose  another  spa- 
cious edifice  of  stone.  In  this  last  were  the  prisoners' 
cells.  lam  not  certain  that  I  shall  be  able  to  convey  to 
my  young  readers  a  very  accurate  idea  of  the  arrange- 
ment and  of  the  interior  of  these  buildings,  but  I  am  very 
desirous  of  doing  so,  as  it  will  give  them  clearer  ideas  of 
what  I  intend  to  present,  in  regard  to  the  moral  aspects 
of  such  an  institution  as  this.  Will  you  not  then  make 
an  effort  to  picture  distinctly  to  your  minds  what  I  am 
describing? 

The  long  low  building  which  I  have  mentioned,  had  a 
Strong  iron  door  in  the  centre,  and  from  that  door  a  pas- 
sage-way extended  across  to  the  great  new  prison  be- 
yond. On  one  side  of  this  passage-way  was  a  large  room 
appropriated  to  preparing  food  for  tlie  prisoners,  and  on 
the  other  side  was  the  chapel.  When  we  came  up  to  the 
iron  door  in  the  front  of  the  building,  we  found  several 
gentlemen,  who  had  come  over  from  Boston  to  act  as 
teachers  in  the  Sabbath  School,  waiting  for  admission. 
They  were  waiting  until  the  prisoners  themselves  should 
have  passed  into  the  chapel  ;  for  when  we  arrived,  they 
were  coming  in  a  long  procession,  from  their  cells  in  the 
rear,  into  this  building,  each  one  bringing  the  tin  vessel 
from  which  he  had  eaten  his  breakfast,  and  laying  it  up- 
on a  sort  of  counter  as  he  passed  on  into  the  chapel.  We 
could  see  this  by  looking  through  an  opening  i«  the  iron 
door. 

When  all  the  prisoners  had  gone  into  the  chapel,  the 
outer  door  was  opened  by  a  keeper,  and  we  all  passed  in; 
the  heavy  door  was  swung  to  behind  us,  and  its  strong 
bolt  secured.  We  turned  from  the  entry  into  that  end  of 
the  building  which  was  used  as  a  chapel.    There  was  an 


Cll.   7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  191 

Aspect  ot  llie  School.  Prisoners'  dress.  Exercises 

aisle  passing  up  the  centre,  on  each  side  of  which  were 
seats  half  filled  with  the  convicts.  The  chaplain  stood 
in  a  pulpit  at  the  farther  end,  and  on  each  side  of  him 
were  the  teachers,  gentlemen  from  Boston,  who  had  come 
to  assist  these  unhappy  men  to  read  and  to  understand 
the  word  of  God. 

It  was  a  most  delightful  May  morning,  and  the  whole 
aspect  of  the  room,  as  I  looked  over  it  from  my  stand 
near  the  chaplain,  was  that  of  cheerfulness  and  happiness, 
not  of  gloom.  The  sun  beamed  in  brightly  at  the  win- 
dows, and  the  walls  of  the  room  of  the  purest  white,  the 
neat  benches,  and  the  nicely  sanded  floor,  gave  a  most 
pleasant  aspect  to  the  whole. 

The  congregation  presented  a  singular  and  striking  ap- 
pearance. Had  it  not  been  for  thai|| dress  I  might  have 
forgotten  that  I  was  in  a  prison.  But'they  were  all  dress- 
ed in  coarse  clothes  of  two  colors,  one  side  of  the  body 
being  red,  and  the  other  of  some  different  hue.  This  is 
the  uniform  of  crime.  The  object  of  it  is,  I  suppose,  not 
to  mortify  them  with  a  perpetual  badge  of  disgrace,  but  to 
expose  any  one  who  should  by  any  means  escape,  to  im- 
mediate detection  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  country 
around. 

"  Is  it  possible,"  thought  I,  as  I  looked  over  this  most 
interesting  assembly,  "  that  all  these  men  have  come  vo- 
luntarily this  morning  to  read  and  study  the  word  of 
God  1"  Yes,  that  was  the  fact.  This  exercise  was  entire- 
ly voluntary  ;  and  out  of  two  or  three  hundred  Avho  had 
been  condemned  for  crime,  about  one  half  were  accus- 
tomed to  come  voluntarily  on  Sabbath  morning  to  study 
the  book  which  proclaims  from  heaven  free  forgiveness 
of  every  sin. 

The  chaplain  opened  the  school  with  prayer.  He  then 
explained  to  the  teachers  that  the  plan  to  be  pursued  was 
simply  to  hear  the  prisoners  read  the  Bible,  and  explain 
its  contents  to  them.  He  desired  them  to  confine  their  con- 


193  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    7. 

A  claas.  Cuiiversatiun  with  a  convict. 

versation  strictly  to  the  business  in  hand,  and  requested 
the  prisoners  not  to  ask,  and  the  teachers  not  to  answer 
any  questions  relating  to  other  subjects.  He  tlien  distri- 
buted the  teachers  around  the  room,  giving  each  one  a 
small  class.     Three  convicts  fell  to  my  charge. 

I  opened  almost  at  random  in  the  New  Testament,  and 
let  them  read  in  rotation;  and  more  apparently  humble 
and  docile  students  of  the  Bible  I  never  saw.  They  read 
slowly  and  with  hesitation,  and  I  thought  at  first,  with  a 
little  embarrassment ;  this  however  soon  passed  av/ay, 
and  it  was  most  interesting  to  watch  the  eager  expres- 
sion upon  their  countenances  as  the  various  truths  which 
were  such  glad  tidings  to  them  came  to  view.  We  came 
almost  accidentally  to  the  parables  of  the  one  sheep  and 
the  one  piece  of  moj^y  which  was  lost,  Luke,  15,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  the  wh«^  chapter  was  written  expressly  for 
prisoners. 

One  of  these  convicts,  after  expressing  a  strong  inte- 
rest in  these  parables,  said  that  the  Bible  appeared  like  a 
very  different  book  to  him  now,  from  what  it  did  in  for- 
mer times. 

"  How  did  it  formerly  appear  to  you?"  asked  I 

"  O,  I  used  to  despise  it.  I  used  to  wonder  why  so 
much  was  made  of  the  Bible.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I 
could  write  as  good  a  book  myself." 

*'  Well,  are  your  views  of  it  changed  now  ?" 

*'  O  yes,"  said  he,  '*  I  am  now  fully  persuaded  it  is  the 
word  of  God." 

*'  What  caused  you  to  disbelieve  formerly  ?  was  it  the 
influence  of  bad  company  ?" 

"  Why,  sir,  to  be  frank,  it  was  ignorance.  I  had  not 
studied  it.  I  had  read  it  a  little  here  and  there,  but  not 
attentively,  or  with  a  right  spirit." 

"  What  led  you  to  change  your  views  of  it?" 

*'  I  did  not  change  my  views  until  I  came  to  this  insti- 
tution.   I  had  some  days  of  solitary  confinement  when  I 


Ch. 

7-] 

EVIDENCES 

OF 

CIIR] 

[STIANITY. 

193 

Power  of  the  Bible. 

Keforraation 

of 

pri 

isoners. 

first  came,  with  no  book  but  the  Bible ;  and  when  1  first 
began  to  reflect,  I  recollected  that  a  Christian  family 
whom  I  once  lived  with,  seemed  to  enjoy  more  real,  sub- 
stantial happiness  than  any  other  persons  I  ever  saw ; 
and  this  led  me  to  think  there  might  possibly  be  some- 
thing in  religion.  So  1  thought  I  would  examine  the  Bible 
in  earnest,  and  I  found  it  a  very  different  book  from  what 
I  had  supposed.  I  took  a  very  strong  interest  in  it,  and 
at  last  a  minister  preached  a  sermon  here  from  the  text, 
'  What  shall  I  do  to  inherit  eternal  life  V  and  that  I  hope 
led  me  to  the  Savior.  I  hope  and  trust  that  I  have  really 
given  my  heart  to  God." 

I  told  him  that  wliat  he  said  gave  me  great  pleasure, 
and  that  I  hoped  he  would  persevere  in  Christian  duty, 
and  find  the  Bible  a  source  of  happiness  to  him  as  long 
as  he  should  live. 

"  When  I  first  came  to  this  institution,"  he  replied,  "  I 
thought  it  was  rather  a  hard  case  to  be  shut  up  here  so 
long.  My  time  is  however  now  almost  out.  In  a  few 
weeks  I  shall  go  away;  but  if  I  have  really  been  led  to 
see  and  forsake  my  sins,  I  shall  never  have  any  reason  to 
regret  coming  here." 

The  chaplain  about  this  time  gave  notice  that  it  was 
time  for  the  services  to  be  closed,  and  I  could  not  con- 
verse with  my  other  scholars  much.  One  of  them  told 
me  however  that  he  had  been  brought  up  by  pious  pa- 
rents, and  had  read  the  Bible  when  he  was  a  child.  *'It 
was  however,"  said  he,  "  only  to  please  my  parents.  I 
gave  no  heed  to  it.  I  have  found  it,  since  I  came  to  this 
institution,  a  very  different  book." 

I  afterward  learned  that  there  was  as  much  reason  as, 
under  the  circumstances,  there  could  be,  to  hope  that  all 
three  of  these  criminals  had  really  repented  of  sin  and 
obtained  peace  with  God,  and  that  they  would  return  to 
society  to  be  useful  and  happy  while  they  live,  and  be 
admitted  to  heaven  when  they  die. 

9 


194  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   7. 


Cases  numerous.  Temperance  sermon.  Marching  to  the  cells. 

Such  cases  as  these  too  are  becoming  very  numerous 
in  prisons  where  the  convicts  are  separated  from  each 
other,  and  brought  under  the  influence  of  the  word  of 
God.  Since  this  plan  has  been  adopted  in  this  very  pri- 
son, the  results  have  been  most  decisive.  The  number  of 
prisoners,  and  especially  of  recommitments,  is  very  much 
reduced.  The  whole  number  of  convicts,  which  was  for- 
merly 375,  has  been  reduced  under  the  operation  of  this 
system  to  235,  and  is  now  constantly  reducing. 

But  I  must  proceed  with  the  description  of  my  visit : 
At  the  close  of  the  Sabbath  school,  the  convicts  who  had 
attended  it  marched  out,  and  presently  returned  with  all 
the  other  prisoners  in  a  long  procession,  to  attend  public 
worship  ;  they  filled  the  chapel.  The  preacher  addressed 
them  on  the  subject  of  temperance ;  and  as  he  explained 
to  them  the  nature  of  ardent  spirit,  and  the  consequences 
of  its  use,  they  listened  with  the  most  eager  and  unin- 
terrupted attention.  Each  had  his  Bible  under  his  arm — 
his  only  companion  in  his  solitary  cell — and  it  was  evi- 
dent, I  thought,  from  the  countenances  of  the  whole  as- 
sembly, that  in  the  hour  of  stillness  and  solitude  it  had 
been  at  work  upon  the  conscience  of  many  a  hardened 
sinner  there.  It  seemed  impossible  for  a  man  to  look 
upon  that  assembly,  understanding  their  circumstances, 
and  knowing  how  exclusively  the  Bible  had  been  used 
as  the  means  of  restoring  them  to  moral  health,  and  how 
successful  it  had  been,  and  yet  doubt  whether  the  book 
was  really  from  God. 

After  the  meeting  was  closed  the  prisoners  marched 
by  divisions  in  regular  order,  each  under  the  care  of  a 
keeper,  back  to  the  great  building  in  the  rear,  which  con- 
tained their  cells.  As  they  passed  through  the  entry, 
each  one  took  from  the  place  where  he  had  left  it,  the 
tin  vessel  containing  his  evening  meal,  and  they  marched 
in  long  procession  to  their  silent  and  solitary  lodgings. 
We  followed  them  into  the  building.     Its  construction  is 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  195 

Construction  of  the  Prison.  The  buildings. 

peculiar  ;  and  as  it  is  similar  to  those  now  almost  uni- 
versally built  for  prisoners,  I  shall  describe  it. 

It  contains  a  building  within  a  building — the  outer  one 
being  a  mere  shell,  consisting  of  walls  and  a  roof,  with 
rows  of  narrow  grated  windows  in  the  sides.  The  inner 
building  is  distinct  and  independent,  with  a  passage  seve- 
ral feet  wide  all  around  between  it  and  the  outer  walls. 
This  inner  building  is  simply  a  block  of  cells,  four  or 
five  stories  high,  arranged  back  to  back,  so  that  the  doors 
open  on  each  side  into  the  passage-way  I  have  already 
described.  The  doors  however,  of  the  lower  story  only, 
can  be  entered  from  the  floor  of  the  passage-way  itself, 
and  to  gain  access  to  the  others,  long  narrow  galleries 
supported  by  iron  pillars,  project  from  each  story.  A 
staircase  at  one  end  leads  the  way  to  these. 

There  were  no  windows  to  the  cells,  except  a  grated 
opening  in  the  narrow  but  heavy  iron  door;  and  this,  it 
will  be  perceived,  did  not  furnish  an  access  to  the  open 
air,  for  the  outer  building  entirely  enclosed  the  inner  like 
a  case.  Sufficient  light  however  found  its  way  through 
the  outer  windows,  and  thence  through  the  grated  door, 
to  cheer  the  prisoner  a  little  in  his  solitude,  and  to  allow 
him  to  read  the  pages  of  the  word  of  God. 

When  we  came  into  the  passage-way  below,  the  trains 
of  prisoners  were  passing  along  the  galleries,  and  enter- 
ing, one  after  another,  their  respective  cells.  Each  one 
closed  after  him  the  massive  door,  and  there  was  some- 
thing peculiarly  solemn  and  impressive  in  the  heavy 
sound,  produced  in  regular  succession,  as  door  after  door 
closed  upon  the  unfortunate  inmates.  The  keepers  pass- 
ed along  after  the  prisoners  of  his  division  had  entered 
their  cells,  and  locked  them  in,  and  after  the  last  partv- 
colored  dress  had  disappeared,  and  the  last  bolt  sounded 
to  its  place,  tlie  keepers  one  after  another  returned,  and 
all  was  silence  and  apparent  solitude. 

Though  it  was  now  the  middle  of  a  bright  May  after- 


196  YOUNG   CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  ? 

Coittstraclion  of  the  cells.  Armed  keeper. 

noon,  it  was  but  twilight  within  these  walls — the  twilight 
of  a  prison — and  so  still,  that  one  could  hardly  realize 
that  within  the  sound  of  his  voice  more  than  two  hun- 
dred criminals  were  confined.  And  yet  they  were  with- 
in the  sound  of  one  voice  ;  for  the  construction  of  these 
buildings  is  such  that  every  prisoner  can  hear  the  chap- 
lain when  conducting  religious  services  in  the  passage- 
way. He  stands  there,  not  seeing  an  individual  whom 
he  addresses — nothing  before  him  but  the  cold  repulsive 
aspect  of  the^granite  walls  and  floor,  and  pillars,  doors 
and  locks  of  iron — and  reads  the  chapter,  and  offers  the 
evening  prayer  in  the  hearing  of  hundreds  ;  and  each 
prisoner,  alone  in  his  cell,  seated  upon  his  little  bench, 
hears  through  the  grated  window  the  voice  of  one  unseen, 
explaining  to  him  the  word  of  God,  or  guiding  him  in  his 
supplications  for  the  forgiveness  of  his  sins,  and  prepara- 
tion for  heaven. 

As  we  stood  contemplating  this  scene,  one  of  the  offi- 
cers of  the  prison  standing  there,  said  to  my  companion, 

"  How  different  this  is  from  what  we  used  to  see  and 
hear  in  the  old  prison  !" 

"Has  there  been,"  asked  I,  "a  very  decided  change 
in  the  aspect  of  the  prisoners  since  their  removal  to  this 
building  ?" 

*'  O  yes,"  said  he,  "  every  thing  is  changed.  Why, 
when  they  occupied  the  old  building  and  were  locked  up 
several  together  in  a  room,  there  was  nothing  but  cursing 
and  swearing,  and  riot,  and  quarreling,  and  blasphemy, 
to  be  heard  all  night.  How  they  would  rave  against  re- 
ligion and  the  Bible  and  ministers  !  Nothing  would  have 
tempted  me  to  have  staid  in  the  prison  if  that  state  of 
things  had  continued.  Now  it  is  a  quiet  and  peaceful 
family." 

We  passed  out  last.  A  keeper,  with  a  sword  at  his 
side  and  a  pistol  at  his  belt,  closed  and  locked  the  door 
after  us,  and  we  passed  through  the  yard,  and  through  the 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  1^1 

The  Bible  llie  means.  Analysis  of  the  Convicts'  stQi'ies. 

great  edifice  which  I  first  described,  out  beyond  the  pri- 
son walls,  and  returned  to  our  homes. 

Now  if  there  was  any  one  thing  which  stood  forth  to 
view  in  all  this  scene  mure  distinctly  and  vividly  than  all 
the  rest,  it  was  that  these  efiects  were  the  work  of  the 
Bible.  The  very  essence  of  the  whole  system  is  simply 
to  cut  off  the  bad  influences  which  would  otherwise  gain 
access  to  the  prisoner,  and  lay  before  him  the  Bible. 
This  was  done  with  kindness  and  sympathy  indeed,  but 
still  the  word  of  God  was  most  evidently  the  remedy 
which  was  applied.  The  prisoners  came  to  their  place 
of  worship  with  their  Bibles  in  their  hands — the  teach- 
ers in  the  Sabbath  .School  confined  their  efforts  to  read- 
ing and  explaining  the  sacred  book — and  it  was  affecting 
to  observe,  that  as  they  went  to  their  solitary  cells,  they 
found  there  the  word  of  God  for  their  only  companion. 
So  unquestionable  is  the  moral  power  of  this  book,  that 
the  very  authorities  of  the  State,  actuated  by  a  desire  to 
save  the  community  from  the  injuries  of  wicked  men, 
placo  a  Bible,  at  the  public  expense,  in  the  cell  of  every 
convict  committed  for  crime. 

Those  little  cells,  so  small  that  the  narrow  bed,  when 
let  down  at  night,  leaves  the  prisoner  scarce  room  to 
stand — destitute  of  almost  every  comfort,  and  showing 
by  their  whole  aspect,  that  their  design  is  to  connect  the 
most  gloomy  associations  possible  with  the  idea  of  crime 
— every  one  of  those  narrow  and  naked  cells  inust  have  its 
Bible.  Every  legislator  knows  that  that  is  the  book  to 
call  back  the  guilty  criminal  from  his  sins.  And  though 
men  may,  in  speculation,  deny  its  authority  and  question 
its  influence  in  practice,  when  they  wish  to  awaken  con- 
science in  the  abandoned,  and  to  recall  them  so  far  at 
least  to  duty  that  society  may  be  safe  from  their  crimes, 
they  are  unanimous  in  invoking  its  aid. 

But  I  must  return  to  the  two  convicts'  stories.     I  did 


198 

STOUNG    CHRISTIAN.                               [Ch.  7. 

1.  Bible  the  means. 

2.  Sins  against  God. 

not  intend  to  have  digressed  so  far  from  them.  My  read- 
ers are  requested  to  recall  those  narratives  to  mind,  for  I 
wish  to  analyse  them  a  little,  that  I  may  present  more 
distinctly  the  nature  of  the  process  by  which  convales- 
cence and  ultimate  health  returns  to  a  sin-sick  soul ;  for 
I  wish  to  consider  these  not  in  the  light  of  detached  and 
separate  instances,  but  as  fair  specimens  of  cases  which 
are  constantly  occurring  by  tens  of  thousands  in  Christian 
lands. 

I  should  like  to  have  you  notice  the  following  points, 
whi«h  are  brought  to  view  by  those  narratives. 

1.  The  Bible  was  the  means  of  the  change.  One  of 
the  convicts  said  he  had  no  proper  views  of  the  Scrip- 
tures till  he  came  to  the  prison  ;  the  other  could  not 
read  them  at  all,  and  it  was  plainly  by  means  of  this  book 
that  they  were  brought  to  understand  their  true  charac- 
ters. So  at  Charlestown.  The  whole  plan  of  moral  in- 
fluence consisted  in  bringing,  in  a  kind  and  sympathizing 
manner,  the  truths  of  the  word  of  God  to  those  minds. 
I  was  told  by  one  of  the  teachers  who  was  present  at 
the  time  of  my  visit,  that  he  had  in  his  class  a  convict 
who  had  been  repeatedly  imprisoned,  having  been  con- 
fined once  or  twice  in  the  old  building.  "  And,"  said  he, 
"it  only  made  me  worse.  But  now,  there  is  a  new  state 
of  things.  When  I  came  to  this  prison,  I  found  nothing 
but  my  Bible  and  I  believe  it  has  made  me  a  new  man." 
The  gentleman  who  had  taught  that  class,  said  that  he 
gave  every  evidence  which  could  be  given  in  so  short  a 
time,  of  being  a  humbled,  renewed  man. 

2.  Men  are  led  to  see  that  their  sins  are  against  God. 
This  you  will  perceive  to  be  very  strikingly  the  case,  from 
a  review  of  the  convicts'  stories.  And  this  is  one  of  the 
great  peculiarities  of  the  Scriptures.  They  lead  us  to 
see  that  we  owe  obligations  to  our  Maker  ;  a  truth  that 
is  always  neglected  or  forgotten  till  the  Bible  brings  it  to 
view. 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OP    CHRISTIANITY.  199 

Story  of  the  iiiceridiaiy.  Ignorance  of  the  law  of  the  land. 

But  what  is  the  meaning  of  our  sins  being  against 
God?  I  once  knew  a  boy  so  abandoned  to  evil  passions, 
ai,d  so  utterly  destitute  of  moral  principle,  that  he  set 
fire  to  his  mother's  house,  in  a  fit  of  anger  with  her  for 
some  reproof  or  punishment.  I  do  not  know  whether 
he  intended  to  burn  it  entirely,  or  whether  he  expected 
that  the  fire  would  be  extinguished,  and  he  should  thus  on- 
ly frighten  his  mother.  A  great  deal  of  injury  was  in  fact 
done  by  the  fire,  which  was  however  at  last  extinguish- 
ed. Now  the  boy  very  probably  supposed  this  offence 
was  against  his  mother  alone.  He  knew  ho  was  respon- 
sible to  her  authority,  and  thought  of  nothing  more 

How  surprised  then  would  he  be  if  some  friend  of  his, 
after  lie  had  done  this,  should  converse  with  him  as  fol- 
lows : 

*'  Do  you  know  what  you  have  done  V 

"Yes,  I  set  mother's  house  on  fire." 

**  And  what  do  you  expect  will  be  the  consequence  ?" 

"  Why,  perhaps  she  will  punish  me  ;  but  I  don't  care 
for  that." 

*'  I  think  you  will  find  that  that  is  not  the  worst  of  it." 

«  What  is  the  worst  of  it  1" 

*'  Why  you  have  broken  the  law  of  the  land,  and  I  ex- 
pect every  hour  that  the  officers  will  be  after  you  to  take 
you  up." 

*'  The  officers  !"  says  the  boy,  astonished  and  alarmed  : 
"I  didn't  know  any  thing  about  the  law  of  the  land." 

"  There  is  a  law  of  the  land,  you  will  find,  and  you 
have  broken  it,  and  they  will  have  you  tried  and  put  in 
State's  Prison  for  it." 

At  this  the  boy  would  perhaps  pause  and  turn  pale, 
and  his  next  word  M^ould  probably  either  be,  "I  don't 
believe  it,"  or  else,  "  What  shall  I  do  ?"  Perhaps  he 
would  attempt  to  excuse  himself  by  saying, 

*'  I  did  not  know  that  it  was  against  any  law — I  only 
did  it  to  plague  my  mother.'' 


200  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  7. 

Voice  of  the  Bible. 

"  That  makes  no  difference,"  his  friend  would  reply, 
"  it  will  not  help  you  at  all.  The  law  of  every  commu- 
nity is,  and  ought  to  be,  very  decided  against  incendia- 
ries, because,  as  you  well  know,  when  you  set  fire  to 
your  house,  you  endangered  the  others  near,  and  in  fact 
the  whole  village.  As  to  your  not  knowing  that  it  was 
against  the  law,  that  makes  no  difference  ;  you  knew  that 
it  was  wrong.''^ 

I  do  not  know  whether  this  boy  learned  that  he  had 
broken  the  law,  and  was  in  great  danger  of  punishment, 
by  any  such  conversation  as  the  above.  I  know  however 
that  he  learned  it  in  some  way,  and  he  fled  ;  he  escaped 
to  a  distant  city,  but  the  officers  found  him  there ;  and 
I  saw  him  afterward  confined  in  his  cell. 

Now  when  men  sin  in  this  world  they  almost  always 
forget  the  very  important  circumstance,  that  they  are  sin- 
ning against  God.  They  look  upon  their  offences  as 
committed  solely  against  their  fellow  men  ;  they  feel 
sometimes  a  little  compunction  in  regard  to  those  few 
cases  where  their  conduct  has  injured  their  fellows  ;  they 
never  consider  these  as  offences  against  a  far  higher 
law — and  as  to  all  their  other  conduct,  they  feel  entirely 
at  ease  in  regard  to  it. 

Now  the  Bible  comes  in  in  such  cases,  and  where  its 
voice  is  heeded,  it  holds  with  men  much  such  a  conver- 
sation as  that  which  I  have  described  between  the  boy 
and  his  friend. 

*'  Do  you  know,"  it  says  to  one  who  has  been  living 
an  irreligious  life  for  many  years,  *'  what  you  have  been 
doing?" 

*'  Yes,"  he  replies,  *'  I  have  very  often  done  wrong. 
I  have  sometimes  been  idle  and  sometimes  a  little  pas- 
sionate; but  then  I  have  endeavored  to  make  up  for  lost 
time  by  subsequent  industry,  and  I  have  always  repaired 
all  the  injuries  of  every  kind  that  I  have  done  to  others. 
On  the  whole,  I  have  been  a  good  neighbor  and  an  honest 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  301 

3.  Feeling  awakened. 

man  ;  I  liave  been  kind  in  my  family,  and  upright  as  a 
citizen." 

"  Ah  !"  says  the  Bible,  "  do  you  not  linow  that  there 
is  a  God,  and  that,  by  utterly  neglecting  him,  you  have 
been  all  the  time  unceasingly  breaking  his  law  ?  You  have 
been  living  for  yourself,  detached  and  separate  from  all 
around  you,  except  so  far  as  your  interests  or  instinctive 
feelings  have  formed  a  frail  tic.  What  a  divided  and  mi- 
serable community  would  be  the  result,  if  all  God's  crea- 
tures were  to  act  upon  the  same  principle !" 

*'  Besides,"  continues  the  word  of  God,  "  the  sins 
which  you  acknowledge  you  have  committed,  and  which 
you  seem  to  consider  as  chiefly  against  men,  are  in  a  far 
higher  sense  against  God.  They  are  violations  of  his  law, 
and  he  has  annexed  a  most  awful  penalty  to  such  trans- 
gressions. In  fact,  it  is  possible  that  some  of  his  officers 
are  now  sent  for  you,  to  summon  you  to  trial  and  con- 
demnation for  your  sins." 

Thus  men  are  led  to  see  by  the  Bible  what  law  they 
have  broken,  and  what  punishment  they  have  to  fear. 
The  convict,  whose  conversation  I  have  above  given,  saw, 
as  he  expresses  it,  that  all  his  sins  had  been  ""against 
God:' 

3.  The  Bible  makes  men  feel  their  guilt.  Undoubt- 
edly many  of  my  readers  will  go  over  the  explanation 
I  have  ju?t  given  of  our  connexion  with  God,  and  of  the 
fact  that  all  our  sins  are  against  him^  very  carelessly.  I 
do  not  mean  that  they  will  not  be  interested  in  the  mere 
reading;  I  mean  that  they  will  not  realize  the  truth,  in 
its  application  to  them.  Nothing  is  more  common  than 
for  persons  to  see  and  to  acknowledge  the  truths  I  have 
been  presenting,  without  feeling  any  compunction  for 
their  guilt;  but  the  Bible  arouses  conscience;  it  is 
^*  quick  and  powerful,  sharper  than  any  two-edged  sword, 
piercing  even  to  the  dividing  asunder  the  soul  and  spirit.'* 

It  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  properties  of  the  hu- 


202  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  7. 

A  slumbering  sense  of  guilt.  Sin  will  sting  at  last. 

man  mind,  that  a  consciousness  of  guilt  may  remain  a 
long  time  dormant  in  it — pioducing  no  uneasiness  and  no 
suffering — and  yet,  after  the  lapse  of  years,  it  will  burst 
forth  with  most  terrific  power,  and  drive  the  victim  of  it 
to  actual  despair.  This  has  often  been  the  case.  A  man 
who  has  committed  sin,  is  like  one  bitten  by  a  mad  dog. 
The  momentary  pain  is  slight — the  wound  soon  heals  ; 
it  may  keep  up  from  time  to  time  a  slight  irritation,  just 
enough  to  remind  him  occasionally  of  the  occurrence  ; 
but  ordinarily  it  is  forgotten,  and  he  goes  on  with  his 
daily  amusements  and  pleasures,  entirely  unconscious  of 
danger. 

But  though  the  wound  is  healed,  the  dreadful  infection 
which  it  has  admitted  to  his  system  is  circulating  insi- 
diously there.  The  poison  glides  imperceptibly  along  his 
veins  and  arteries  for  weeks,  months,  years.  It  does  not 
mar  his  enjoyments  or  disturb  his  repose  ;  but  still  the 
dreadful  enemy,  though  slumbering,  is  there.  At  last,  in 
some  unexpected  hour,  it  rises  upon  him  in  all  its 
strength,  and  overwhelms  and  conquers  him  entirely.  It 
brings  agony  to  his  body  and  indescribable  horror  to  his 
soul,  and  hurries  him  through  the  most  furious  paroxysms 
of  madness  and  despair  to  inevitable  death. 

And  it  is  just  so  with  sin.  A  murderer,  for  example, 
will  often  slumber  ten,  twenty,  or  thirty  years  over  his 
crime.  The  knowledge  of  it  will  be  in  his  heart,  like  a 
lurking  poison,  during  all  that  time.  He  will  recollect  it 
without  anxiety  or  compunction,  and  look  forward  to  the 
future  without  alarm.  At  last  however  some  circum- 
stance, often  apparently  trifling,  will  awaken  him;  he 
will  begin  to  feel  his  guilt ;  conscience  will  suddenly  rise 
upon  him  like  an  armed  man,  and  overwhelm  him  with 
all  the  horrors  of  remorse  and  despair.  Perhaps  if  one 
had  tried  a  few  weeks  before  to  make  him  feel  his  guilt, 
it  would  have  been  vain,  he  was  so  utterly  hardened  in 
it — so  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins  ;  but  now  you  will  find 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF   CHRISTIANITY.  203 


4.  The  Savior. 


it  far  more   difficult  to  allay  or  to   mitigate  the  storm, 
which  has,  perhaps  spontaneously,  arisen. 

Every  person  therefore  who  commits  sin,  takes  a  viper 
into  his  bosom — a  viper,  which  may  delay  slinging  him 
for  many  years — but  it  loill  sting  him  at  last,  unless  it  is 
removed  ;  he  is  unaware  of  the  misery  which  awaits 
him — but  it  must  come  notwithstanding.  This  is  parti- 
cularly the  case  with  sins  against  God  ;  and  the  wonder 
is,  that  the  sense  of  guilt  will  remain  so  entirely  dor- 
mant as  it  often  does,  so  that  no  warning,  no  expostula- 
tion, no  remonstrance  will  disturb  the  death-like  repose  ; 
and  yet  at  last  the  volcano  will  often  burst  forth  spon- 
taneously, or  from  some  apparently  trifling  cause,  and 
overwhelm  the  sinner  in  suffering. 

Now  we  certainly  should  not  wish  that  this  suflJering 
should  come  upon  any  individual,  were  it  not  that  in  a 
vast  multitude  of  cases  it  leads  him  to  repent  of  and  to  for- 
sake his  sins.  Remorse  is  not  penitence,  it  is  true,  but  it 
very  frequently  leads  to  it. 

4.  The  Bible  leads  men  to  a  Savior.  Men  every  where 
have  the  impression  that  penitence  is  not  enough  to  re- 
move and  expiate  guilt.  Whenever  we  do  wrong,  there 
is  implanted,  as  it  were  in  the  very  soul,  a  fearful  looking 
forward  to  punishment  to  come  in  consequence  of  it.  We 
know  that  no  government  can  be  efficiently  maintained 
where  its  settled,  regular  plan  is  to  forgive  always  upon 
confession.  Now  it  is  found  by  universal  experience, 
and  the  cases  I  have  narrated  happily  illustrate  this,  that 
when  men  are  really  brought  to  feel  their  sins  against 
God,  they  cannot  be  quieted  by  any  general  assurances 
that  God  is  merciful.  They  know  he  is  merciful,  but 
then  they  know  he  is  just.  They  know  he  is  the  great 
moral  Governor  of  the  universe;  and  the  young-cst  cliild, 
or  the  most  ignorant  savage,  has  an  instinct,  I  might  al- 
most call  it,  which  so  assures  him  of  the  necessity  of  a 
retribution,  that  he  cannot  rest,  (after  a  repeated  disobe- 


204  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  7 

Penance.  Forgiveness  on  mere  penitence.  Stoiy  of  Regulus. 

dience,)  in  the  hope  that  his  penitence  alone  will  secure 
his  pardon.  Hence,  in  all  unchristian  countries  they  have 
various  ways  of  doing  penance,  that  is,  inflicting  severe 
voluntary  suffering  upon  themselves  by  way  of  retribu- 
tion for  their  sins.  Now  when  men,  under  such  circum- 
stances, hear  that  a  Savior  has  died  for  them,  it  brings  re- 
lief. It  is  very  often  the  case  that  there  is  not  a  very 
clear  idea  of  the  way  in  which  his  sufferings  are  of  avail 
in  opening  the  way  for  pardon  ;  in  fact,  it  is  not  absolutely 
necessary  that  there  should  be  very  clear  ideas  on  this 
subject.  The  mind,  however  darkened  and  ignorant,  is 
capable  of  seeing  that  these  sufferings  may  in  some  way 
stop  the  evil  consequences  of  its  sins,  and  open  the  way 
for  pardon,  and  yet  not  fully  understand  in  all  their  detail 
the  various  moral  influences  which  the  crucitixion  of  the 
Son  of  God  is  calculated  to  produce. 

My  reader,  do  you  feel  a  secret  but  continual  burden 
from  a  sense  of  your  sins?  Try  the  experiment  of  com- 
ing and  asking  forgiveness  in  the  Savior's  name,  and  see 
if  it  does  not  bring  relief. 

I  suppose  that  most  of  my  readers  remember  the  story 
of  Regulus.  The  ancient  cities  of  Rome  and  Carthage 
stood  opposite  to  each  other,  across  the  Mediterranean 
sea.  As  these  two  cities  grew  up  to  power  and  distinc- 
tion nearly  together,  they  were  the  rivals  and  enemies  of 
each  other.  There  was  many  a  hard  fought  battle  be- 
tween their  armies  and  their  fleets. 

At  last,  Regulus,  a  celebrated  Roman  general,  was  sent 
across  the  sea  to  carry  the  war  if  possible  to  the  very 
gates  of  Carthage.  He  was  at  first  very  successful,  and 
he  took  many  prisoners  and  sent  them  to  Rome.  At 
length  however  the  scale  was  turned,  the  Roman  army 
was  conquered,  and  Regulus  himself  was  captured  and 
thrown  into  a  Carthagenian  prison. 

After  some  time  however  had  elapsed,  the  Carthage- 
nians,  foreseeing  that  the  Roman  power  would  in  the  end 


Ch.    7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  205 

War  between  Home  and  Carthage.  llegulus  as  ambassador. 

overwhelm  their  own,  concluded  to  send  an  embassy  to 
Rome  to  offer  peace.  They  proposed  toRegulus  to  go  on 
this  embassy.  They  entrusted  him  with  the  commission, 
saying  to  him,  "We  wish  you  would  go  to  Rome  and 
propose  to  your  countrymen  to  make  peace  with  us,  and 
endeavor  to  persuade  them  to  comply.  If  you  do  not 
succeed,  however,  we  expect  you  to  return  to  us  again  as 
our  lawful  prisoner.  We  shall  confide  in  your  word." 

Regulus  accepted  the  trust.  He  set  off  to  Rome,  pro- 
mising to  return  to  Carthage  if  the  Romans  should  not 
accede  to  the  peace.  He  sailed  across  the  sea  and  up  the 
Tiber,  and  was  soon  approaching  the  gates  of  the  great 
city.  He  had  determined  however  to  do  all  in  his  power 
to  prevent  a  peace,  knowing  that  it  would  not  be  for  the 
interest  of  his  country  to  make  one.  He  understood, 
therefore,  that  he  was  going  to  his  native  city  only  to 
communicate  his  message,  and  then  to  return  to  im;^ri- 
sonment,  torture  and  death  at  Carthage. 

His  wife  came  out  of  the  gates  to  meet  him,  rejoicing 
in  his  return.  He  received  her  dejected,  silent  and  sad. 
"I  am  a  Carthagenian  prisoner  still,"  said  he,  "  and  must 
soon  return  to  my  chains." 

He  refused  to  enter  the  city.  He  had  indeed  a  mes- 
sage for  the  senate,  but  the  Roman  senate  was  not  ac- 
customed to  admit  foreigners  to  their  sessions  within  the 
city.  He  sent  them  word,  therefore,  that  Regulus,  no  lon- 
ger a  Roman  general,  but  a  Carthagenian  prisoner,  was 
the  bearer  of  a  message  to  them,  and  wished  them  to  hold, 
as  usual,  a  meeting  without  the  gates  for  the  purpose  of 
receiving  it. 

The  senate  came.  They  heard  the  proposal  which 
the  Carthaginians  sent,  and  the  arguments  of  Regulus 
against  it.  The  arguments  prevailed.  They  decided 
against  peace,  and  Regulus  began  to  speak  of  his  re- 
turn. 

"  Return  !"  said  his  friends,  and  the  senators,  and  all 


5206  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  7. 


Death  of  Reguliis.  Cruel  retaliaaon.  Supposed  case. 

the  people  of  Rome  ;  "  you  are  under  no  obligation  to 
return  to  Carthage." 

'•I  promised  to  return,"  said  Regulus,  •' and  I  must 
keep  my  word.  I  am  well  aware  that  the  disappointed 
and  exasperated  Carthagenians  will  inflict  upon  me  cruel 
tortures,  but  I  am  their  prisoner  still,  and  I  must  keep 
my  word." 

The  Romans  did  all  in  their  power  to  persuade  Regu- 
lus  that  a  promise  extorted  under  such  circuinsiances  was 
not  binding,  and  that  he  could  be  under  no  obligations  to 
return.  But  all  was  vain.  He  bade  the  senate,  and  his 
countrymen,  and  his  wife  farewell,  and  was  soon  sailing 
back  to  the  land  of  his  enemies.  The  Carthagenians 
were  enraged  at  the  result  of  his  mission.  They  put  him 
to  death  by  the  most  cruel  tortures. 

When  the  tidings  of  his  death  came  hack  to  Rome,  the 
senate  and  the  people,  who  had  already  been  much  im- 
pressed by  the  patriotism  of  Regulus  and  his  firm  adhe- 
rence to  his  word,  were  overwhelmed  with  admiration 
and  gratitude.  This  feeling  was  mixed  loo  with  a  strong 
desire  of  revenge  upon  the  Carthagenians,  and  a  decree 
was  passed,  giving  up  the  Carthagcnian  prisoners  then  in 
their  hands  to  Marcia,  the  wife  of  Regnlus,  to  be  dispos- 
ed of  as  she  might  desire.  She  most  unjustly  and  cruel- 
ly ordered  them  all  to  be  put  to  death  by  the  same  suf- 
ferings which  her  lamented  husband  had  endured. 

My  story,  thus  far,  is  substantially  true.  Tlie  dialogue 
I  have  given  is  intended  to  exhibit  the  substance  cf  what 
was  said,  not  the  exact  words.  The  facts,  however,  are 
correctly  stated.  The  whole  occurrence  is  matter  of 
history. 

In  order,  however,  to  make  the  use  of  this  story  which 
I  have  intended,  I  must  now  go  on  in  fiction.  I  will  sup- 
pose that  Marcia,  instead  of  desiring  to  gratify  a  revenge- 
ful spirit  by  destroying  the  lives  of  the  innocent  prison- 
ers at  Rome,  in  retaliation  for  the  murder  of  her  husband, 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  207 

Forgiveness  of  criminals  for  Regulus'  sake. 


had  been  actuated  by  a  nobler  spirit,  and  had  sent  such  a 
message  as  this  to  the  Roman  senate,  in  reply  to  their 
proposal  to  her  : 

"I  do  not  wish  for  revenge.  It  will  do  no  good,  either 
to  Regulus  who  is  dead,  or  to  his  unhappy  widow  who 
survives,  to  torture  or  to  destroy  the  miserable  captives 
in  our  hands.  Dispose  of  them  as  the  good  of  the  state 
requires.  If  you  think,  however,  that  any  thing  is  due 
from  the  commonwealth  to  the  memory  of  Regulus  or  to 
his  surviving  friends,  let  it  be  paid  in  happiness,  not  in 
suflering.  There  are  in  the  public  prisons  many  misera- 
ble convicts  condemned  for  their  crimes  ;  let  them  be 
forgiven  for  Regulus'  sake,  if  they  will  acknowledge  their 
crimes  and  return  to  their  duty.'' 

A  Roman  senate  would  have  granted  undoubtedly 
such  a  request  as  this,  if  made  under  such  circumstances 
as  I  have  described.  Let  us  suppose  they  had  done  so, 
and  that  the  prison  doors  had  been  opened,  and  the  of- 
fers of  pardon  had  been  circulated  among  the  convicts 
there. 

Now  I  wish  my  reader  to  bear  in  mind  that  I  am  not 
intending  here  to  offer  an  illustration  of  the  way  in  which 
our  salvation  is  effected  by  the  sufferings  of  the  Son  ot 
God  ;  no  analogy  drawn  from  any  earthly  transactions, 
can  fully  illustrate  thq.  way  in  which  the  Lamb  of  God 
taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world.  My  object  is  to  illus- 
trate the  spirit  with  which  the  offer  of  mercy  through  him 
is  to  he  received,  and  I  have  made  this  supposition  for 
the  purpose  of  placing  these  prisoners  in  a  situation 
somewhat  like  that  of  condemned  sinners  in  this  world, 
that  I  may  show  how  the  Bible  brings  relief  to  those  suf- 
fering under  the  burden  of  sin,  by  offering  them  mercy 
through  a  Savior. 

A  messenger  comes  then,  we  will  suppose,  among  the 
imprisoned  malefactors — tells  them  he  brings  good  news 
to   them — an  offer  of  pardon  from  the  Roman  senate 


20S  YOUNG   CHRISTIAN.  [Cll.    7 

lis  effects  in  prison. 


The  prisoners  look  incredulous.  They  know  that  the 
Roman  government  is  an  efficient  one,  and  that  it  is  ac- 
customed to  execute  its  Iuavs.  *'  Wc  arc  justly  imprison- 
ed," they  would  say,  "  and  our  time  is  not  yet  -expired 
' — there  can  be  no  forgiveness  for  us  till  the  law  sets  us 
free." 

The  messenger  then  relates  to  them,  that  in  conse- 
quence of  the  distinguished  services  and  subsequently 
cruel  sufferings  of  a  great  Roman  general,  the  senate  had 
wished  to  make  to  his  widow  some  public  expression  of 
the  sympathy  and  gratitude  of  the  commonwealth,  and 
that  she  had  asked  it  as  a  boon,  that  every  penitent  pri- 
soner, willing  to  abandon  his  crimes  and  return  to  his 
duty,  might  be  set  free  for  her  husband's  sake. 

Now  unquestionably,  if  there  were  any  among  these 
prisoners  who  were  really  penitent  for  sin  and  willing 
to  return  to  duty,  their  abhorrence  of  their  crimes  would 
be  increased,  and  their  determination  to  be  faithful  citi- 
zens in  future  would  be  strengthened  by  receiving  such 
an  offer  of  pardon.  Nay,  it  would  not  be  surprising  if 
some  who  were  still  hardened  in  their  sins,  and  even  in 
the  midst  of  noise  and  revelry  in  the  prison  at  the  very 
time  the  messenger  appeared,  should  be  arrested,  and 
their  feelings  touched  by  such  an  address. 

"  How  different,"  they  might  reelect,  "  is  the  conduct 
of  Rcgulus  from  ours  !  We  liave  been,  by  our  vices  and 
crimiBs  bringing  injuries  without  number  upon  our  coun- 
try. He,  by  his  labors  and  sufferings,  has  been  unceas- 
ingly endeavoring  to  do  her  good  ;  and  Marcia,  too — it 
was  kind  for  her  to  think  of  us.  "NVhen  we  were  at 
liberty,  we  thought  only  of  gratifying  our  own  passions; 
we  made  no  effort  to  promote  the  happiness  of  others, 
or  to  diminish  their  sufferings  ;  we  will  return  to  our 
duty,  and  imitate  the  example  they  have  set  for  us." 

It  would  not  be  surprising  if  such  a  transaction  had 
awakened  these  reflections  in  some  minds ;  and  on  the 


Ch.    7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  *309 

The  cffec*^  oC  the  Gospel  the  same.  The  penitent  convict. 

whole,  the  effect  of  the  offer  of  mercy  through  Jesus 
Christ  produces  very  similar  effects  in  the  world  to  those 
I  have  here  imagined  in  the  prison.  When  men  are  told 
in  general  terms,  that  God  is  merciful  and  will  forgive 
their  sins,  it  does  not  in  ordinary  cases  really  relieve 
them.  Though  perhaps  they  do  not  say  it  distinctly,  yet 
they  feel  that  God'^  government,  to  bo  efficient,  must 
have  strict  laws,  and  penalties  strictly  executed  ;  and 
they  are  afraid  that  a  mere  reliance  on  God's  general 
mercy  may  not  be  quite  safe.  Thousands  trust  to  this 
till  they  come  to  their  dying  hour,  and  then  abandon  it. 

But  when  men  are  told,  by  the  word  of  God,  that  Jesus 
Christ  died  for  them — the  just  for  the  unjust — and  that 
they  must  come,  asking  forgiveness  in  his  name  and  for 
his  sake,  it  throws  a  different  aspect  over  the  whole  case; 
a  bright  gleam  of  hope  from  a  new  and  unexpected  quar- 
ter darts  in.  Though  they  may  not  know  fully  in  what 
way  the  sufferings  of  Christ  may  be  the  means  of  open- 
ing the  way  for  their  forgiveness,  they  siill  can  see  that 
it  is  very  possible  it  may  in  some  way  do  this.  It  is  not 
necessary  that  we  should  understand  fully  the  way.  The 
convicts  might  be  released  without  knowing  all  about  the 
story  of  Rcgulus,  or  comprehending  exactly  how  such 
a  transaction  as  their  release  on  his  account  would  affect 
the  public  mind  in  Rome,  so  as  to  obviate  the  evil  effects 
of  laxity  in  the  administration  of  public  justice.  There 
might  be  many  a  poor  ignorant  convict  who  could  not 
comprehend  such  subjects  at  all,  and  yet  possess  the 
spirit  of  mind  which  should  bring  him  most  fully  within 
the  conditions  of  release.  Such  an  one  might  come  to 
the  officer  appointed  for  the  purpose,  and  say, 

**  I  am  very  grateful  to  the  Roman  senate  for  offer- 
ings to  pardon  me  for  the  sake  of  Regulus ;  I  was  really 
guilty  of  the  crime  for  which  I  was  sentenced,  and  the 
term  of  my  imprisonment  is  not  longer  than  I  justly  de- 
serve ;  but  I  am  glad  to  be  restored  to  freedom  and  to 


210  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  7. 


The  penitent  sinner. 


happiness  now.  I  shall  always  be  grateful  to  the  senate, 
and  shall  cherish  the  memory  of  Regulus  as  long  as 
Hive."  M 

Now  if  a  prisoner  had  this  spirit,  there  is  no  question 
that  he  would  be  released,  whether  he  was  or  was  not 
statesman  or  philosopher  enough  to  understand  fully  the 
moral  character  and  influence  of  such  a  transaction;  and 
so,  my  reader,  if  you  are  willing  to  acknowledge  and  to 
forsake  your  sins,  and  to  accept  of  freedom  and  happi- 
ness in  future,  on  account  of  another's  merits  and  sufller 
ings,  you  need  not  distress  yourself  because  you  do  not 
fully  comprehend  the  nature  of  that  great  transaction  of 
which  Gethsemane  and  Calvary  were  the  scene.  It  can- 
not be  fully  understood  here.  From  the  windows  of  our 
prison-house  in  this  world,  we  can  see  but  a  small  part 
of  the  great  city  of  God.  We  cannot  therefore  appreciate 
fully  any  of  the  plans  of  his  government ;  we  can  how- 
ever feel  right  ourselves.  We  can  ask  forgiveness  in 
Christ's  name,  and  believe,  on  the  authority  of  God's 
word,  that  God  has  set  forth  Jesus  Christ  to  be  a  propi- 
tiation for  us,  that  we  might  be  saved  through  faith  in 
his  blood — that  is,  by  our  trusting  in  his  sufferings — that 
God  might  be  just,  and  yet  save  those  who  trust  in  the 
Savior.* 

But  to  return  to  the  Roman  prison.  I  have  repre- 
sented one  prisoner  as  accepting  the  offer,  and  going  out 
to  freedom  in  consequence  of  it.  Let  us  now  suppose 
that  the  public  officer,  appointed  by  the  senate  to  carry 
the  message  to  the  prisoners,  and  to  receive  their  re- 
plies, should  meet  in  one  of  the  rooms  a  very  different 
reception.  He  passes,  we  will  suppose,  along  a  dark  pas- 
sage-way, until  he  comes  to  the  door  of  a  gloomy  dun- 
geon ;  the  keeper  removes  the  heavy  rusty  bars,  arid  un- 
bolts and  unlocks  the  door,  and  as  he  opens  it,  he  hears 
the  unexpected  sounds  of  mirth  and  revelry  within. 

*  See  Romans,  iii,  23—26. 


Ch.    7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  211 

The  offer  neglected.  The  offer  rejected. 

As  he  enters,  he  sees  the  wretched-looking  inmates  ly- 
ing around  the  cold  stone  floor  upon  their  beds  of  straw. 
In  a  corner  sit  some  with  wild  and  haggard  looks  rela- 
ting to  each  other,  with  noisy  but  unnatural  mirth,  the 
profane  jest  or  immoral  story.  In  the  middle  of  the 
room,  two  arc  quarrelling  for  a  morsel  of  food,  which 
each  claims,  filling  the  air  with  their  dreadful  oaths  and 
imprecations.  Near  the  door  lies  a  miserable  object  half 
covered  in  his  tattered  garment,  and  endeavoring  in  vain 
to  get  a  little  sleep.  A  small  grated  window  high  in  the 
wall  admits  a  dim  light,  just  sufficient  to  reveal  to  view 
the  objects  which  compose  this  scene  of  vice  and  misery. 

The  quarrellers  and  the  rioters  pause  a  moment,  each 
retaining  his  attitude,  and  listen  while  the  messenger 
from  the  senate  lays  before  them  the  offer  of  forgiveness 
and  freedom.  They  gaze  upon  him  for  a  few  minutes 
with  vacant  looks,  but  before  he  has  fairly  finished  his 
message,  the   angry  combatants  re-commence  their  war 

the  story  t'^Mpr  in  thp  corner  gops  on  with  his  narra- 
tive— the  sleeper  composes  himself  again  to  rest — and 
perhaps  some  fierce  and  angry  looking  criminal  comes 
up  to  the  messenger  and  says,  in  a  stern  voice,  "  Away  ! 
you  have  no  business  here." 

Do  you  think  that  these  prisoners  would  be  liberated 
for  the  sake  of  Regulus  ?  No  !  The  bolts  and  bars  must 
be  closed  upon  them  again,  and  they  must  bear  their  sen- 
tence to  the  full.  This  is  the  way  that  multitudes  receive 
the  offers  of  forgiveness  through  Jesus  Christ. 

Once  more.  Suppose  this  messenger  were  to  meet,  in 
some  part  of  the  prison,  one  of  the  convicts  walking  back 
and  forth  alone  in  his  cell,  and  should  repeat  to  him  the 
story  which  he  was  commissioned  to  bring. 

*'  Forgiveness  for  the  sake  of  Regulus  !"  says  he,  with 
a  tone  of  scorn;  "I  want  no  forgiveness  on  account  of 
another  ;  you  have  no  right  to  shut  me  up  here  for  any 
thing  I  have  done  ;  it  is  unJHist  and  cruel.     I  demand  re- 


212  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    7 

Grateful  acceptance  of  the  offer.  Object  of  this  illustration. 

lease  on  my  own  account — without  any  condition  or  any 
acknowledgment  of  my  dependence  for  it  upon  the  merits 
of  another." 

Now  if  the  messenger  should  meet  with  the  exhibition 
of  such  a  spirit  as  this,  he  would  turn  away  and  close  the 
bolts  and  bars  of  the  prison  again  upon  such  a  convict, 
and  seek  subjects  of  mercy  elsewhere.  God  too  requires 
of  us  all  a  humble  and  subdued  spirit,  and  willingness  to 
accept  of  pardon  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christy  who  died 
for  us.  We  must  come  with  the  spirit  which  I  first  de- 
scribed— the  spirit  of  the  convict  who  said, 

*'  I  am  grateful  to  the  Roman  senate  for  offering  to  par- 
don me  for  the  sake  of  Regulus.  I  was  really  guilty  of 
the  crime  for  which  I  was  sentenced,  and  the  term  of  my 
imprisonment  is  not  longer  than  I  justly  deserve.  But  I 
am  glad  to  be  restored  to  freedom  and  happiness  now.  I 
shall  always  be  grateful  to  the  sei?ate,  and  shall  cherish 
the  memory  of  Regulus  as  long  as  I  live." 

Before  dismissing  this  illustration.  I  wish  to  remind 
my  readers  again,  that  I  have  been  endeavoring  to  exhi- 
bit by  it  the  spirit  of  mind  with  which  we  ought  to  re- 
ceive the  offer  of  mercy  through  Jesus  Christ,  not  the 
nature  of  the  atonement  which  he  has  made  for  sin.  The 
case  I  have  imagined  could  not  safely  occur  in  any  hu- 
man government,  because  there  would  be  no  way  of  as- 
certaining who  among  the  convicts  were  truly  penitent, 
and  were  really  determined  on  leading  a  life  of  virtue  in 
future.  Several  other  difficulties,  wliich  in  God's  govern- 
ment do  not  exist,  are  unavoidable  in  every  human  em- 
pire. The  spirit  of  mind  with  which  the  offer  of  free 
forgiveness  in  Jesus'  name  is  welcomed  or  refused,  is  all 
which  I  design  by  this  illustration  to  explain.  If  the 
h^art  is  really  ready  to  acknowledge  its  guilt,  and  willing 
to  accept  of  pardon  which  it  does  not  deserve,  the  offer 
of  a  Savior  is  most  admirably  calculated  to  restore  peace 
of  conscience,  and  heal  the  wounded  spirit.  And  nothing 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  213 

Excitement  and  delusion.  Anecdote  of  Brinley. 

but  the  Bible  can  make  such  an  offer.  Thus  one  of  the 
most  powerful  means  by  which  it  changes  character,  is  awa- 
kening the  sensibilities  of  the  heart  through  the  exhibition 
of  a  Savior  crucified  for  our  sins,  and  leading  us  to  feel 
that  we  may  be  forgiven,  and  the  obligation  and  authori- 
ty of  the  law  we  have  broken  be  yet  sustained. 

5.  These  changes  of  character  are  of  ten  attended  with 
strong  excitement,  and  sometimes  with  mental  delusion. 
My  readers  recollect  that  the  first  convict  saw  at  one 
time  a  black  coffin,  according  to  his  statement;  and  at 
another,  he  was  addressed  by  an  audible  voice  in  his  cell, 
telling  him  that  his  sins  were  pardoned.  These  two  cir- 
cumstances were  what  chiefly  induced  me  to  insert  that 
narrative,  that  I  might  bring  up  distinctly  this  point,  viz. 
that  the  changes  of  character  produced  by  the  Bible  are 
often  attended  with  mental  delusion  iti  little  things,  espe- 
cially among  those  minds  that  have  been  but  little  disci- 
plined by  philosophical  thought.  I  could  not  have  a  fair 
specimen  without  including  an  example  of  this. 

The  human  mind  is  so  constituted,  as  all  who  have  studi- 
ed its  nature  are  fully  aware,  that  when  any  subject  of  great 
interest,  or  any  strong  emotion,  takes  possession  of  it, 
it  operates  immediately  upon  the  body,  producing  some- 
times animal  excitement,  and  sometimes  delusions  of  the 
senses.  So  that  these  very  delusions,  and  this  very  bodi- 
ly excitement,  prove  the  greatness  and  the  reality  of  the 
emotions  of  heart  which  have  occasioned  them.  If  a 
man  becomes  very  much  interested  in  any  scheme,  how 
likely  he  is  to  become  enthusiastic  in  it !  And  this  en- 
thusiasm the  public  usually  consider  as  proving,  not  dis- 
proving,  his  sincerity.  It  indicates  the  strength  of  the 
interest  which  he  feels.  It  is  astonishing  what  extrava- 
gancies people  will  put  up  with  from  men  engaged  in  the 
prosecution  of  favorite  plans,  and  will  consider  them  as 
pleasant  indications  of  the  strength  of  the  interest  which 
is  felt.     Brinley,  a  famous  canal  engineer,  was  so  much 


214  YOUNG   CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    7. 


Cases  of  excileraent. 


interested  in  liis  favorite  mode  of  transportation,  that  he 
used  to  express  the  opinion  that  a  canal  was  far  more 
valuable  to  a  country  than  a  navigable  river.  He  was 
once  asked  what  he  supposed  Providence  intended  in 
creating  rivers.  He  said  they  were  good  for  nothing 
but  to  feed  canals.  And  this  story  has  been  copied  by 
every  biographer  of  Brinley ;  it  has  been  told  again  and 
again,  in  lectures  and  conversations  and  debates,  as  a 
pleasant  instance  of  extravagance  in  a  man  devoted  to  a 
favorite  pursuit,  which  proves  notliing  but  the  greatness 
of  the  interest  he  feels  in  it.  Nobody  ever  thought  the 
worse  of  Brinley  for  it,  or  distrusted  his  judgment  on 
any  point  in  the  science  of  engineering.  Millions  were 
risked  on  his  opinion  while  he  was  living,  and  his  name  is 
remembered  with  the  highest  respect.  So  Cliristians  of 
uncultivated  minds  will  be  sometimes  extravagant  in  their 
opinions,  or  in  their  conduct,  and  only  show  by  it  the 
strength  of  the  interest  they  feel. 

A  man  who  is  inventing  a  machine,  will  become  so 
excited  that  he  cannot  sleep.  He  will  perhaps,  in  his 
efforts  to  obtain  repose,  fall  into  an  uncertain  state,  be- 
tween sleeping  and  waking,  in  which,  half  in  reverie  and 
half  in  dream,  fancy  will  present  him  with  splendid  ima- 
ges of  success.  He  will  hear  a  voice  or  see  a  figure, 
or  he  will  be  assured  by  some  extraordinary  mode  that 
he  shall  overcome  all  his  difficulties,  if  he  will  perse- 
vere. In  the  morning,  light  and  the  full  possession  of 
his  faculties  return,  and  as  he  is  generally  a  man  of  in- 
telligence, he  can  analyse  the  operations  of  his  mind, 
and  separate  the  false  from  the  true.  If  he  was  an  un- 
enlightened man,  however,  and  should  in  the  morning 
tell  his  story,  how  narrow  would  be  the  philosophy 
which  would  say  to  him,  "  Sir,  it  is  all  a  delusion.  Your 
mind  is  evidently  turned.  You  had  better  give  up  your 
invention,  and  return  to  other  pursuits."  It  would  be  a 
great  deal  more  wise  to  neglect  altogether  the  story  of 


Ch.  7.]  EVIDENCES    OF   CHRISTIANITY.  215 


Conversion  a  very  great  cliange. 


supernatural  voices  and  appearances  which  he  might  tell, 
and  judge  of  the  value  of  his  proposed  invention  by  ex- 
amining impartially  his  plan  itself,  and  calculating  on  so- 
ber evidence  the  probability  of  success  or  failure. 

So,  my  reader,  when  you  hear  of  any  thing  which 
you  deem  extravagance  or  delusion  among  Christians, 
remember  how  immense  a  change  the  beginning  of  a 
Christian  course  sometimes  is.  The  man  has  been  all 
his  life  neglecting  and  disliking  religion.  He  has  been 
engrossed  in  sinful  pursuits  and  pleasures,  and  perhaps 
addicted  to  open  vice.  All  at  once,  while  contemplating 
God's  holy  truth,  his  eyes  are  opened — he  sees  his  guilt, 
and  his  imminent  danger  of  ruin.  He  is,  and  he  must 
be,  strongly  excited.  If  he  feels  in  any  sense  his  condi- 
tion, he  cannot  sleep.  Can  an  arrested  malefactor  sleep 
quietly  the  first  night  in  his  cell?  He  must  be  strongly 
excited,  and  this  excitement  must,  in  many  cases,  bring 
something  like  temporary  mental  delusion.  lie  must  do 
and  say  many  things  in  which  the  calm  spectators  can- 
not sympathize.  But  it  is  most  certainly  very  unphilo- 
sophical  to  fasten  upon  these,  and  say  it  is  all  delusion 
and  wildness.  The  real  question  to  be  considered  is  this: 
Is  a  bad  character  really  changed  for  a  good  one  ?  If  so, 
it  is  a  great  moral  change,  invaluable  in  its  nature  and 
results,  productive  of  inconceivable  good  to  the  individual 
himself,  and  to  all  connected  with  him.  The  excess  of 
feeling  is  momentary  and  harmless.  In  regard  to  the 
permanency  of  the  change  in  the  case  of  those  convicts, 
there  is  one  whose  subsequent  character  I  have  no  means 
of  knowing.  The  other  however,  when  he  was  libera- 
ted, became  a  useful  and  respectable  citizen  ;  and  after 
sustaining  uninjured  for  two  or  three  years  the  tempta- 
tions of  the  world,  he  was  admitted  to  a  Christian  church  ; 
and  up  to  the  latest  accounts  which  I  have  been  able  to 
obtain,  ho  was  a  most  trustworthy  man  and  an  exempla- 
ry Christian.     An  abandoned  profligate,  imprisoned  for 


216  YOTJNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch .  7. 

Narrow  views.  Danger  on  both  sides. 

his  crimes,  becomes  a  useful  and  a  virtuous  man.  Can 
you  expect  such  a  cliange  without  excitement?  How 
unphilosophical  then  is  it  to  fasten  upon  the  slight  and 
momentary  indications  of  excitement  as  evidence  that 
there  is  nothing  real  in  the  case  ! 

And  yet  unphilosophical  as  this  is,  I  have  no  doubt 
that  there  are  many  persons  whose  eyes,  if  they  were 
reading  the  first  convict's  story,  would  catch  at  once 
the  accounts  of  the  supernatural  appearances  which  he 
thought  he  saw,  and  they  would  stop  short  there.  "Ah  !" 
they  would  say,  *'  he  heard  a  voice  forgiving  his  sins — 
he  saw  a  black  coffin  !  It  is  all  fanaticism  and  delusion." 
This  is  narrow-mindedness.  The  intellect  which  rea- 
sons thus,  is  in  such  a  slate  that  it  does  not  lake  a  sur- 
vey of  the  whole  of  a  subject  presented,  so  as  to  form  an 
independent  and  unbiassed  opinion.  The  man  fastens 
upon  one  little  blemish  which  happens  to  be  turned  to- 
Avard  him,  and  seeing  no  farther,  he  condemns  the  whole. 
Like  the  inexperienced  mariner,  who  thinks  he  has  come 
to  a  barren  and  inhospitable  land,  because  he  sees  no- 
thing but  precipitous  rocks  or  sandy  beaches  on  the 
shore  which  first  comes  to  view. 

There  is,  however,  a  narrow-mindedness  which  may 
operate  in  another  way.  Many  a  sincere  Christian  will 
read  such  an  account  and  be  perfectly  satisfied,  because 
he  meets  with  a  few  expressions  of  penitence,  that  the 
convict's  heart  is  really  changed.  He  thinks  the  crimi- 
nal has  certainly  become  a  Christian,  just  because  he 
talks  like  one.  Whereas  it  is  very  possible  that  he  is  on- 
ly repeating  language  which  he  has  heard  others  use, 
for  the  sake  of  exciting  sympathy,  or  pretending  to  be 
reformed,  in  hope  of  pardon  and  release  from  his  cell. 
Now,  it  is  as  narrow-minded  to  judge  from  a  very  partial 
knowledge  of  facts  in  one  way  as  in  another.  An  ex- 
perienced Christian  can  indeed  often  form  a  tolerably  safe 
opinion  of  the   reality  or  fictitiousness  of  a  pretended 


Ch.    7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  217 

Criterion.  Immediate  and  peaceful  submission  the  duty  of  all. 

change  by  conversation ;  but  the  great  decisive  evidence 
after  all  is  perseverance  in  a  holy  life. 

If  then  men  who  have  been  abandoned  to  vice  be- 
come virtuous  and  trustworthy  citizens,  and  exemplify 
for  years  the  graces  of  the  Christian  character,  we  will 
bear  with  a  little  excitement,  and  even  enthusiasm,  at  the 
time  of  the  change.  For  it  is,  after  all,  of  comparative- 
ly little  consequence  whether  tliis  excitement  shows  it- 
self by  some  open  manifestation,  as  by  the  black  coffin 
rising  to  the  disturbed  imagination  of  the  convict  in  his 
cell,  or  the  loud  shout,  "  Glory  to  God,"  v/hich  resounds 
in  the  Methodist  camp  ;  or  whether  it  is  subdued  and  re- 
strained, as  in  the  still  solemnity  of  an  inquiry  meeting 
on  the  evening  of  the  Sabbath,  or  in  the  solitary  suffer- 
ing of  an  awakened  sinner  mourning  at  midnight  the 
burden  of  his  sins.  Remember  that  I  say  it  is  of  little 
consequence,  not  that  it  is  of  none.  It  would  be  better 
if  men  would  follow  Jesus  as  readily  and  as  easily  as 
Matthew  did.  Jesus  said  unto  him,  "  Arise  and  follow 
me  ;  and  he  arose  and  followed  him."  Immediate  sub- 
mission, with  cordial  confidence  in  the  Savior,  will  at 
once  remove  all  mental  suffering  and  all  cause  for  it. 
But  if  men  will  only  give  up  their  sins  and  lead  lives  of 
actual  piety,  we  will  not  quarrel  with  them  about  the 
manner  in  which  they  enter  the  new  way. 

Such  then  are  some  of  the  effects  of  the  Bible  upon 
the  human  character  considered  in  detail.  I  have  thought 
it  best,  in  order  to  show  the  moral  power  of  this  book  as 
distinctly  as  possible,  to  analyse  thus  minutely  the  ope- 
ration of  it  in  some  particular  cases.  But  the  argument 
would  be  very  deficient  if  I  should  leave  it  here  ;  for  if 
these  cases  were  uncommon,  they  would  prove  but  little. 
But  they  are  not  uncommon.  Even  in  prisons,  a  very 
large  number  of  such  cases  have,  as  I  have  already  sta- 
ted, occurred ;   and   the  subjects   of  such  changes  have 

10 


218  VOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch. 


Limited  circulation  of  the  Bible.  Fear  of  death. 

gone,  when  they  have  been  liberated,  in  peace  and  hap- 
piness to  their  homes.  There  are  now  scattered  over  our 
land  vast  numbers  who  have  been  brouglit,  from  every 
stage  and  degree  of  guilt,  to  seek  pardon  through  the 
Savior,  and  to  begin  a  life  of  virtue  and  piety.  The  in- 
fluence of  the  Bible,  too,  upon  the  community  at  large  is 
so  great,  that  every  country  w^herc  it  freely  circulates  is 
distinguished  for  the  peace  which  reigns  there.  Vice  is 
comparatively  unknown,  property  and  life  are  safe,  every 
man  sits  under  his  own  vine  and  fig-tree,  with  none  to 
molest  or  make  him  afraid.  But  when  man  is  left  to 
himself,  he  makes  his  home  a  den  of  robbers.  If  you  tra- 
vel on  the  Nile  or  the  Tigris,  you  must  look  well  to  your 
means  of  defence.  Men  must  go  in  caravans  in  all  those 
regions  for  mutual  protection.  But  how  would  an  armed 
escort  for  a  traveler  appear  on  the  banks  of  the  Con 
necticut  or  the  Hudson? 

And  yet  though  benefits  so  great  are  procured  to  socie- 
ty by  the  Bible,  they  are  procured,  after  all,  only  by  a 
limited  application  of  its  moral  power.  It  is  a  very 
small  proportion  of  the  whole  population,  even  in  the 
United  States,  which  attends  at  all  to  the  commands  and 
instructions  of  the  word  of  God.  The  numbers  are  how- 
ever rapidly  increasing.  The  cause  of  God  is  advancing 
with  great  rapidity ;  and  as  a  military  despotism  or  a  Chris- 
tian republic  must  be  the  ultimate  destiny  of  every  nation, 
we  can  look  only  to  the  spread  of  the  influence  of  the 
Bible  to  save  our  country  from  ruin. 

I  will  close  this  chapter  by  mentioning  one  more  in- 
stance of  the  moral  power  of  the  Bible — it  is  its  effect 
in  destroying  the  fear  of  death.  The  fear  of  death  is  in- 
stinctive, not  founded  on  reasoning.  It  is  reasonable  for 
us  to  fear  some  things  connected  with  death,  but  the  chief 
apprehension  which  every  man  feels  in  looking  forward 
to  that  hour,  is  the  result  of  an  instinctive  principle  which 
Providence  has  implanted  in  every  man's  mind  ;  and  the 


Ch.    7.]  EVIDENCES    OF    CHRISTIANITY.  219 

The  sick  young  man.  Sting  of  death.  The  dying  mother 

only  way  by  which  it  can  be  counteracted  without  the 
Bible,  is  by  banishing  the  subject  from  the  thoughts. 
That  is  the  way  that  soldiers  acquire  courage  in  battle- 
by  accustoming  themselves  not  to  think  of  death  at  all. 
It  is  not  in  human  nature  to  contemplate  its  approach, 
habitually  and  calmly,  without  si>ch  a  preparation  as  the 
Bible  gives.  '   r---^ 

Come  in  imagination  to  this  sick  chamber.  That  young 
man  tossing  restlessly  upon  his  pillow  is  soon  to  die.  His 
physicians  have  given  him  over.  His  friends  despair, 
but,  by  a  most  absurd  and  preposterous  species  of  kind- 
ness, they  will  not  tell  him  of  his  danger,  for  they  know 
he  is  unprepared  to  die,  and  the  knowledge  of  the  ap- 
proach of  the  dread  hour  they  think  will  distress  him  ! 
But  the  sad  secret  they  cannot  conceal ; — he  reads  his 
sentence  in  their  anxious  looks  and  agitated  words — his 
pale  cheek  turns  paler  with  fear,  and  to  the  natural  rest- 
lessness of  disease,  there  is  added  the  overwhelming  agi- 
tation of  mental  anguish.  Can  you  soothe  him?  Can 
you  calm  him  ?  Your  very  effort  reveals  to  him  his  dan- 
ger more  distinctly,  and  his  heart  sinks  within  him  in 
hopeless  terror.  Sometimes,  it  is  true,  this  fear  of  death 
does  not  reign  in  the  heart  at  the  closing  hour,  for  rea- 
son may  be  gone,  or  the  soul  may  sink  into  stupor.  But 
when  death  is  really  foreseen  and  known  to  be  near,  while 
the  faculties  retain  their  power,  the  expectation  of  it 
weighs  down  the  human  spirit  with  overwhelming  fears. 

But  the  Bible  tells  us  that  the  sting  of  death  is  sin,  and 
that  Christ  will  give  believers  the  victory  over  it.  The 
Bible  most  faithfully  keeps  this  promise.  See  that  dy- 
ing Christian  mother.  She  knows  that  death  is  near, 
and  has  calmly  made  all  her  arrangements  for  the  clos 
ing  scene.  She  is  a  Christian,  and  looks  forward  to  an 
entrance  into  the  world  of  spirits  with  no  foreboding  and 
no  anxiety.  Her  husband,  and  children,  and  friends, 
stand  in  agitation  and  distress  around  her  bed-side,  but 


220  YOUNG     CIIRISTIA??.  [Cil.   7. 


Practical  directions.  Difficullies.  Dispulco. 

she  is  calm.  A  Christian  death-bed  very  often  exhibits 
the  astonishing  spectacle  of  composure  and  happiness  in 
the  one  who  is  to  drink  the  cup,  while  those  around,  who 
are  only  witnesses  of  the  scene,  are  overwhelmed  in  agi- 
tation and  sorrow.  The  very  one  who  is  to  encounter 
the  suffering,  is  the  only  one  who  can  look  forward  to  it 
without  fear.  It  is  because  the  Bible  has  been  shedding 
its  influences  upon  her  heart,  and  by  a  moral  power, 
which  no  other  means  can  exert,  has  disarmed  death,  the 
very  king  of  terrors,  and  given  to  a  weak  and  suflering 
mortal  the  victory  over  all  his  pcwer. 

But  I  must  close  this  chapter,  and  with  it  close  the 
short  and  simple  view  I  have  been  endeavoring  to  give 
of  the  evidences  of  Christianity.  I  cannot  but  liope  that 
my  readers  see  evidence  enough  to  satisfy  them  that  the 
Bible  is  really  the  word  of  God.  If  you  do,  lay  up  the 
conviction  in  your  heart,  and  let  it  guide  and  influence 
you.  But  let  me,  before  I  dismiss  the  subject,  give  you 
two  or  three  short  practical  directions. 

1.  Do  not  think  there  is  no  other  side  to  this  question. 
There  are  a  great  many  things  which  may  be  said  against 
the  Bible,  and  some  things  which  you,  wilh  your  present 
attainments  in  Christian  knowledge,  perhaps  cannot  an- 
swer. But  they  do  not  touch  or  affect  the  great  argu- 
ments by  which  the  authority  of  the  Bible  is  sustained. 
They  are  all  small,  detached  difficulties.  Then  let  your 
mind  rest,  calmly  and  with  confidence,  upon  the  great 
but  simple  arguments  on  which  the  strong  foundations  of 
your  belief  stand. 

3.  Never  be  inclined  to  dispute  upon  the  evidences  of  the 
Christian  religion.  The  difficulty  with  unbelievers  is  one 
of  the  heart,  not  of  the  intellect,  and  you  cannot  alter  the 
heart  by  disputing.  When  they  present  you  with  argu- 
ments against  Christianity,  reply  in  substance,  "  What 
you  say  seems  plausible  ;  still  it  does  not  reach  the  broad 
and  deep  foundations  upon  which,  in  my  view,  Christia- 


Ch.  8.  STUDY    OF    THE    BIBLE.  221 


Doing  duly. 


nity  rests  ;   and  consequently,  notwithstanding  what  you 
say,  I  still  place  confidence  in  the  word  of  God." 

3.  Notice  this,  which,  if  you  will  watch  your  own  ex- 
perience, you  will  find  to  be  true.  Your  confidence  in  the 
word  of  God  and  in  the  truths  of  religion  will  be  almost 
exactly  proportional  to  the  fidelity  witli  which  you  do 
your  duty.  When  you  lose  your  interest  in  your  progress 
in  piety,  neglect  prayer,  and  wander  into  sin,  then  you 
will  begin  to  be  in  darkness  and  doubt.  If  you  are  so  un- 
happy as  to  get  into  such  a  state,  do  not  waste  your  time 
in  trying  to  reason  yourself  h^ck  to  belief  again.  Return 
to  duty.  Come  to  God  and  confess  your  wanderings,  and 
submit  your  heart  to  be  inclined  to  him.  If  you  do  this, 
light  for  the  intellect  and  peace  for  the  heart  will  come 
i>ack  toe^Gther. 


CHAPTER  VIIl. 


STUDY    OF    THE    BIBLE. 


■  Able  to  make  us  wise  unto  salvation. 


It  is  not  my  intention  in  this  chapter  to  give  any  de- 
scription of  the  Bible  itself,  or  of  its  history  since  it  came 
into  the  world ;  nor  shall  I  endeavor  to  establish  its  di- 
vine authority,  or  present  the  evidences  or  the  nature  of 
its  inspiration.  My  object  is  to  point  out  practical  duty, 
and  I  shall  confine  myself  to  a  description  of  the  best 
methods  of  reading  and  studying  the  book. 

I  ought,  however,  to  remark  at  the  outset,  that  I  in- 
tend the  chapter  to  be  of  a  highly  practical  character,  and 
I  shall  go  accordingly  into  minute  detail.  Besides,  I  am 
writing  for  the  young,  and  shall,  as  I  have  generally 
done  in  this  book,  confine  myself  exclusively  to  them, 


222  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   8- 


Able  to  make  us  wise  unto  salvation.  Way  to  study  the  Bible 

for  I  have  much  more  hope  that  they  will  be  influenced 
to  follow  the  course  which  I  shall  endeavor  to  describe, 
than  that  my  efforts  will  produce  any  good  effect  upon 
those  who  have  gone  beyond  the  meridian  of  life.  If  a 
man  has  passed  the  age  of  thirty  without  the  Bible,  it  is 
to  be  feared  that  he  will  go  on  unaided  by  its  light  through 
the  remainder  of  his  pilgrimage.  It  is  different,  however 
with  the  young.  You  shrink  from  passing  life  in  impiety. 
You  know  that  the  Bible  can  be  the  only  safe  lamp  to 
your  feet ;  and  if  you  are  not  now  living  by  its  light,  there 
is  hope  that  you  may  be  persuaded  to  come  and  give 
vourself  up  to  its  guidance. 

There  should  be  a  distinction  made  between  the  man- 
ner of  reading  the  Bible  on  the  Sabbath,  and  during  the 
bustle  of  the  week.  The  two  objects  to  be  accomplished, 
and  the  method  of  accomplishing  them  I  shall  describe. 

On  the  Sabbath  the  Bible  should  be  studied.  Every 
person,  old  or  young,  ignorant  or  learned,  should  de- 
vote a  portion  of  time  every  Sabbath  to  the  study  of  the 
Scriptures,  in  the  more  strict  and  proper  sense  of  that 
term.  But  to  show  precisely  what  I  mean  by  this  week- 
ly study  of  the  Bible,  I  will  describe  a  particular  case. 
A  young  man  with  only  such  opportunities  as  are  pos- 
sessed by  all,  resolves  to  take  this  course.  He  selects  the 
epistle  to  the  Ephesians  for  his  first  subject ;  he  obtains 
such  books  and  helps  as  he  finds  in  his  own  family,  or  as 
he  can  obtain  from  a  religious  friend,  or  procure  from  a 
Sabbath  School  library.  It  is  not  too  much  to  suppose 
that  he  will  have  a  sacred  Atlas,  some  Commentary,  and 
probably  a  Bible  Dictionary.  He  should  also  have  pen, 
ink  and  paper  ;  and  thus  provided,  he  sits  dowm  Sabbath 
morning  to  his  work.  He  raises  a  short  but  heartfelt 
prayer  to  God  that  he  will  assist  and  bless  him,  and  then 
commences  his  inquiries. 

The  Epistle  to  the  Ephesians  I  have  supposed  to  be 


Ch.  8.]  STUDY  OF  THE  niBLE.  223 

The  young  man's  experiment. 

his  subject.  He  sees  that  the  first  question  evidently  is, 
"  Who  loere  the  Ephcsians  /"  He  finds  the  city  of 
Ephesus  upon  tlie  map  ;  and  from  the  preface  to  the 
Epistle  contained  in  the  commentary,  or  from  any  other 
source  to  which  he  can  have  access,  he  learns  what  sort 
of  a  city  it  was — what  was  ti.e  character  of  the  inhabi- 
tants, and  if  possible  what  condition  the  city  was  in  at 
the  time  this  letter  was  written.  He  next  inquires  in  re- 
gard to  the  writer  of  this  letter  or  Epistle,  as  it  is  called. 
It  v/as  Paul;  and  what  did  Paul  know  of  Uie  Ephesians? 
had  he  ever  been  there  1  or  was  he  writing  to  strangers  ? 
To  settle  these  points,  so  evidently  important  to  a  correct 
understanding  of  the  letter,  he  examines  the  Acts  of  the 
Apostles,  (in  which  an  account  of  St.  Paul's  labors  is 
contained,)  to  learn  wlielhcr  Paul  went  there,  and  if  so, 
what  happened  while  he  was  there.  He  finds  that  many 
interesting  incidents  occurred  during  Paul's  visits,  and 
his  curiosity  is  excited  to  know  whether  these  things  will 
be  alluded  to  in  the  letter ;  he  also  endeavors  to  ascer- 
tain where  Paul  was  when  he  wrote  the  letter.  After 
having  thus  determined  every  thing  relating  to  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  case,  he  is  prepared  to  come  to  the 
Epistle  itself,  and  enter  with  spirit  and  interest  into  an 
examination  of  its  contents. 

He  first  glances  his  eye  cursorily  through  the  chapters 
of  the  book,  that  he  may  take  in  at  once  a  general  view 
of  its  object  and  design — perhaps  he  makes  out  a  brief 
list  of  the  topics  discussed,  and  thus  has  a  distinct  general 
idea  of  the  whole  before  he  enters  into  a  minute  exami- 
nation of  the  parts.  This  minute  examination  he  comes 
to  at  last — though  perhaps  the  time  devoted  to  the  study 
for  two  or  three  Sabbaths  is  spent  in  the  preparatory  in- 
quiries. If  it  is  so,  it  is  time  well  spent;  for  by  it  he  is 
now  prepared  to  enter  with  interest  into  the  very  soul 
and  spirit  of  the  letter.  While  he  was  ignorant  of  these 
points,  his  knowledge  of  the  Epistle  itself  must  have  been 


^24  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    8. 

The  family  circle.  Distribution  of  books . 

very  vague  and  superficial.  Suppose  I  were  now  to  in- 
troduce into  this  book  a  letter,  and  should  begin  at  once, 
without  saying  by  whom  the  letter  was  written,  or  to 
whom  it  was  addressed.  It  would  be  preposterous.  If 
I  wished  to  excite  your  interest,  I  should  describe  parti- 
cularly the  parties,  and  the  circumstances  which  produced 
the  letter  originally.  And  yet  how  many  Christians  there 
are,  who  could  not  tell  whether  Paul's  letter  to  the  Ephe- 
sians  was  written  before  or  after  he  went  there,  or  where 
Titus  was  when  Paul  wrote  to  him,  or  for  what  special 
purpose  he  wrote  ! 

Take  another  case.  The  father  or  mother  whom  Pro- 
vidence has  placed  at  the  head  of  a  family,  contrive  to 
close  their  worldly  business  at  an  early  hour  on  Saturday 
evening,  and  gather  around  the  table  at  their  fireside  all 
those  who  are  committed  to  their  charge.  They  choose 
some  subject  for  examination — real,  thorough  examina- 
tion. Perhaps  it  is  the  rebuilding  of  Jerusalem  after  the 
captivity.  The  various  books  calculated  to  assist  their 
inquiries  are  distributed  among  the  members  of  the 
group ;  the  reference  Bible  is  given  to  one — the  Concor 
dance  to  another — an  Expositor  to  the  third — the  Bible 
Dictionary  to  the  fourth  ;  and  then,  when  all  are  seated, 
and  the  divine  blessing  has  been  asked  upon  their  labors, 
the  father  asks  them  all  to  turn  to  any  part  of  the  Scrip- 
tures which  gives  information  upon  the  subject.  They 
examine  first  the  account  of  the  destruction  of  the  city, 
when  the  Jews  were  carried  captive,  that  they  may  know 
in  what  condition  it  was  probably  found  on  their  return. 
They  search  in  several  books  for  an  account  of  the  first 
movements  in  Babylon  of  those  who  were  desirous  of  re- 
turn ;  they  examine  the  plans  they  formed  ;  compare  one 
account  with  another  ;  every  question  which  occurs  is  ask- 
ed, and  the  information  which  it  seeks  for,  obtained.  The 
two  expeditions  of  Ezra  and  Nehemiah  are  examined — 
fhe   object  of  each  and  the  connection  between  them. 


Ch.    8.]  S^UDY  OP  THE  BIBLE.  225 

Interest  of  the  children. 

Under  the  control  of  a  judicious  parent,  even  secular 
history  might  be  occasionally  referred  to  to  throw  light 
upon  the  subject.  We  may  properly  avail  ourselves  of 
any  helps  of  this  kind,  so  far  as  their  tendency  is  really 
to  throw  light  upon  the  sacred  volume.  The  children  of 
the  family  soon  take  a  strong  interest  in  the  study,  their 
inquiries  are  encouraged,  their  curiosity  is  awakened  ; 
they  regard  it  a  pleasure,  not  a  task.  Instead  of  the 
evening  of  Saturday,  the  afternoon  or  evening  of  the 
Sabbath,  if  more  convenient,  may  be  used  ;  and  if  the 
children  are  members  of  a  Sabbath  School,  their  next 
lesson  may  be  the  subject.  Those  accustomed  to  the 
use  of  the  pen  will  derive  great  advantage  from  writing-, 
each  evening,  notes  or  abstracts  expressing,  in  a  concis- 
and  simple  styl€,  the  new  knowledge  they  have  acquir- 
ed ;  and  every  difficulty  should  be  noted,  that  it  may  be 
presented  at  a  convenient  opportunity  to  some  other 
Christian  student,  to  the  superintendent  of  the  Sabbath 
School,  or  to  a  minister  of  the  Gospel. 

This  method  of  studying  the  scriptures,  which  I  have 
thus  attempted  to  describe,  and  which  I  might  illustrate 
by  supposing  many  other  cases,  is  not  intended  for  one 
class  alone  ;  not  for  the  ignorant  peculiarly,  nor  for  the 
wise  ;  not  for  the  rich,  nor  for  the  poor  ;  but  for  all. 
The  solitary  widow,  in  her  lonely  cottage  among  the 
distant  mountains,  with  nothing  but  her  simple  Bible  in 
her  hand,  by  the  light  of  her  evening  fire,  may  pursue 
this  course  of  comparing  Scripture  with  Scripture,  and 
entering  into  the  spirit  of  sacred  story,  throwing  herself 
back  to  ancient  times,  and  thus  preparing  herself  to  grasp 
more  completely,  and  to  feel  more  vividly  the  moral  les- 
sons which  the  Bible  is  mainly  intended  to  teach.  And 
the  most  cultivated  scholar  may  pursue  this  course  in  his 
quiet  study,  surrounded  by  all  the  helps  to  a  thorough 
knov/ledge  of  the  Scriptures  which  learning  can  produce 
or  wealth  obtain. 

10* 


226  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Cll.  S/ 

Particular  directions.  Familiar  sounds, 

I  hope  the  specimens  I  have  given  are  sufficient  to 
convey  to  my  readers  the  general  idea  I  have  in  view, 
when  I  speak  of  studying  the  Bible,  in  contradistinction 
from  the  mere  cursory  reading  of  it,  which  is  so  com- 
mon among  Christians.  But  I  must  illustrate  in  minute 
detail  the  various  methods  of  doing  this;  for  there  are 
many  persons  who  really  wish  to  study  the  Bible  more 
intellectually,  and  to  receive  more  vivid  impressions  from 
it,  but  who  really  do  not  know  exactly  what  they  are  to 
do  to  secure  these  objects.  I  shall  therefore  describe 
some  of  the  means  which  can  easily  be  adopted,  and 
which  will  be  very  efficient  for  this  purpose. 

1.  Picturing  to  the  imagination  the  scenes  described. 
There  is  a  very  common  difficulty  felt  by  multitudes  in 
treading  the  Bible,  which  admits  of  so  sure  and  easy  a  re- 
medy by  the  above  direction,  that  I  cannot  avoid  devot- 
ing a  few  paragraphs  to  the  formal  consideration  of  it. 

A  person  who  is  convinced  that  it  is  his  duty  to  read 
the  word  of  God,  and  who  really  desires  to  read  it,  and 
to  receive  instruction  from  it,  sits  down  on  the  Sabbath 
to  the  work.  He  opens  perhaps  to  a  passage  in  the  Gos- 
pels, and  reads  on  verse  after  verse.  The  phraseology  is 
all  perfectly  familiar.  He  has  read  the  same  passage  a  hun- 
dred times  before,  and  the  words  fall  upon  his  ear  like  a 
sound  long  familiar,  producing  no  impression  and  awa- 
kening no  idea.  After  going  through  a  few  verses,  he 
finds  that  he  is  making  no  progress  ;  perhaps  his  mind 
has  left  his  work  altogether,  and  is  wandering  to  some 
other  subject.  He  begins  back  therefore  a  few  verses, 
and  endeavors  to  become  interested  in  the  narrative  ;  but 
it  is  to  little  purpose  ;  and  after  spending  half  an  hour  in 
reading,  he  shuts  his  book,  and  instead  of  feeling  that 
renewed  moral  strength  and  peace  of  mind  which  comes 
from  the  proper  use  of  the  word  of  God,  he  feels  disap- 
pointed and  dissatisfied,  and  returns  to  his  other  duties 
more  unquiet  in  spirit  than  before.     What  a  vast  pro- 


Ch.  8.]  STUDY  or  THE  BIBLE.  ^27 

The  motto  in  the  school-room.  Description  from  the  Bible. 

portion  of  the  reading  of  the  Bible,  as  practised  in  Chris- 
tian countries,  does  this  description  justly  portray. 

Now  some  one  may  say  that  this  careless  and  useless 
study  of  God's  word  arises  from  a  cold  and  indiflerent 
state  of  heart  toward  God.  It  does  unquestionably  often 
arise,  in  a  great  degree,  from  this  source,  but  not  entirely. 
There  is  another  difficulty  not  connected  with  the  moral 
state  of  the  heart.     It  is  this :  ..      -    v  .    , 

Words  that  have  been  often  repeated  gradually  lose 
their  power  to  awaken  vivid  ideas  in  the  mind.  The 
clock  which  has  struck  perhaps  many  thousand  times  in 
your  room,  you  at  last  cease  even  to  hear.  On  the  walls 
of  a  school-room  there  was  once  painted  in  large  letters, 
"a  place  fcr  every  thing,  and  every  thing  in  its 
PLACE  ;"  but  after  a  little  time  the  pupils,  becoming  fa- 
miliar with  the  sight  of  the  inscription,  lo?t  altogether  its 
meaning  ;  and  a  boy  would  open  his  disorderly  desk  and 
look  among  the  confused  mass  of  books,  and  slates,  and 
papers  there,  for  some  article  he  had  lost,  and  then  as 
he  looked  around  tlie  room,  his  eyes  would  fall  on  the 
conspicuous  motto,  without  thinking  a  moment  of  the 
incongruity  between  its  excellent  precept  and  his  own 
disorderly  practice.  It  is  'always  so.  The  oft-repeated 
sound  falls  at  last  powerless  and  unheeded  on  the  ear. 

The  difficulty  then  that  I  am  now  to  consider,  is  that 
in  reading  the  Bible,  especially  those  portions  which  are 
familiar,  we  stop  with  merely  repeating  once  more  the 
words,  instead  of  penetrating  fully  to  the  meaning  be- 
yond. In  order  to  illustrate  this  difficulty  and  its  remedy 
more  fully,  let  me  take  a  passage,  the  sixth  chapter  of  St. 
John  for  example,  to  which  I  have  opened  at  random. 

"  After  these  things  Jesus  went  over  the  sea  of  Galilee,  which  is  the 
sea  of  Tiberias.  And  a  great  multitude  followed  him,  because  they 
saw  his  miracles  which  he  did  on  ihera  that  were  diseased." 

How  familiar,  now,  this  sounds  to  every  reader.  Every 


228  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  8. 

Vivid  conceptions. 

phrase  comes  upon  the  ear  like  an  oft-told  tale,  but  it 
makes  a  very  slight  impression  upon  the  mind.  The  next 
verse,  though  perhaps  few  of  my  readers  know  now  what 
it  is,  will  sound  equally  familiar  when  they  read  it  here. 

"  And  Jesus  went  up  into  a  mountain,  and  there  he  sat  with  his  dis- 
ciples." 

Now  suppose  this  passage  and  the  verses  which  fol- 
low it  were  read  at  morning  prayer  by  the  master  of  a 
family  ;  how  many  of  the  children  would  hear  it  without 
being  interested,  or  receiving  any  clear  and  vivid  ideas 
from  the  description.  And  how  many  would  there 
be  who,  if  they  were  asked  two  hours  afterward  what 
had  been  read  that  morning,  would  be  utterly  unable  to 
tell. 

But  now  suppose  that  this  same  father  Aiould,  by 
some  magic  power,  show  to  his  children  the  real  scene 
which  these  verses  describe.  Suppose  he  could  go  back 
through  the  eighteen  hundred  years  which  have  elapsed 
since  these  events  occurred,  and  taking  his  family  to  some 
elevation  in  the  romantic  scenery  of  Palestine,  from 
which  they  might  overlook  the  country  of  Galilee,  actu- 
ally see  all  that  this  chapter  describes. 

"  Do  you  see,''  he  might  say,  "  that  wide  sea  which 
spreads  out  beneath  us  and  occupies  the  whole  extent  of 
the  valley  ?  That  is  the  sea  of  Tiberias  ;  it  is  also  called 
the  sea  of  Galilee.  All  this  country  which  spreads  around 
it  is  Galilee.  Those  distant  mountains  are  in  Galilee,  and 
that  beautiful  wood  which  skirts  the  shore  is  a  Galilean 
forest." 

*'  Why  is  it  called  the  sea  of  Tiberias  ?"  a  child  might 
ask. 

"  Do  you  see  at  the  foot  of  that  hill,  on  the  opposite 
shore  of  the  lake,  a  small  town  ?  It  extends  along  the 
margin  of  the  water  for  a  considerable  distance.  That  is 
Tiberias,  and  the  lake  sometimes  takes  its  name." 


Ch.  8.]  STUDY    OF    THE    BIBLE.  229 

PictUi'ing  the  scene  to  the  mind. 

"  But  look — there  is  a  small  boat  coming  round  a 
point  of  land  which  juts  out  beautifully  from  this  side  of 
the  lake.  It  is  slowly  making  its  way  across  the  water — 
we  can  almost  hear  the  splashing  of  the  oars.  It  contains 
the  Savior  and  some  of  his  disciples.  They  are  steering 
toward  Tiberias — now  they  approach  the  shore — they 
stop  at  the  landing,  and  the  Savior,  followed  by  his  dis- 
ciples, walks  upon  the  shore." 

Suppose  now  that  this  party  of  observers  can  remain 
a  little  longer  at  their  post,  and  see  in  a  short  time  that 
some  sick  person  is  brought  to  the  Savior  to  be  healed. 
Another  and  another  comes.  A  crowd  gradually  collects 
around  him.  He  retreats  slowly  up  the  rising  ground, 
and  after  a  little  time  he  is  seen  to  take  his  place  upon 
an  elevated  spot,  where  he  can  overlook  and  address  the 
throng  which  has  collected  around  him. 

If  this  could  be  done,  how  strong  and  how  lasting  an 
impression  would  be  made  upon  those  minds  !  Years, 
and  perhaps  the  whole  of  life  itself,  would  not  obliterate 
it.  Even  this  faint  description,  though  it  brings  nothing 
new  to  the  mind,  will  probably  make  a  much  stronger 
and  more  lasting  impression  than  merely  reading  the 
narration  would  do.  And  what  is  the  reason  ?  How  is  it 
that  what  I  have  here  said  has  impressed  this  scene  upon 
your  minds  more  distinctly  than  the  simple  language  of 
the  Bible  1  Why,  it  is  only  because  I  have  endeavored 
to  lead  you  to  picture  this  scene  to  your  minds — to  con- 
ceive of  it  strongly  and  clearly.  Now  any  person  can 
do  this  for  himself  in  regard  to  any  passage  of  Scripture. 
It  is  not  necessary  that  I  should  go  on  and  delineate  in 
this  manner  the  whole  of  the  account.  Each  reader  can, 
if  he  will  task  his  imagination,  paint  for  himself  the 
scenes  which  the  Bible  describes.  And  if  he  does  bring 
his  intellect  and  his  powers  of  conception  to  the  work, 
and  read,  not  merely  to  repeat,  formally  and  coldly, 
sounds  already  familiar,  but  to  bring  to  his  mind  vivid 


^0  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  8. 

Clear  conceptions. 

and  clear  conceptions  of  all  which  is  represented  there, 
he  will  be  interested.  He  \v\]\  find  new  and  striking 
scenes  coming  up  continually  to  view,  and  will  be  surpris- 
ed at  the  novelty  and  interest  which  this  simple  and  easy 
effort  will  throw  over  those  very  portions  of  the  Bible  to 
which  the  ear  has  become  most  completely  familiar. 

I  wish  now  that  every  one  of  my  readers  would  really 
try  this  experiment.  It  will  do  very  little  good  merely 
to  read  the  foregoing  directions  and  resolve  generally  to 
try  in  future  to  form  vivid  and  clear  conceptions  of  what 
is  described  when  you  arc  reading ;  you  must  make  a 
particular  effort  to  learn  to  do  this.  Now  the  next  time 
you  sit  down  to  reading  the  Bible,  turn  to  the  5th  chap- 
ter of  the  Gospel  according  to  St.  Luke,  and  picture  to 
yourself  as  vividly  as  possible  the  scene  described  there. 
Do  not  think  of  a  shore  in  general,  but  conceive  of  some 
particular  shore.  Give  it  shape  and  form.  Let  it  be 
rocky  or  sandy,  or  high  or  low,  bordered  with  woods,  or 
with  hills,  or  with  meadows.  Let  it  be  something  dis- 
tinct. You  may,  if  you  please,  conceive  it  to  be  a  long 
sandy  beach,  with  a  lofty  bank  and  a  verdant  field  be- 
hind ;  or  you  may  have  it  an  open  wood,  sloping  gradu- 
ally down  to  the  water's  edge  ;  or  a  rocky,  irregular  coast, 
full  of  indentations;  or  a  deep  and  narrow  bay,  whose 
shores  are  overhung  with  willows.  Let  it  assume  either 
of  these  forms,  or  any  other  which  your  fancy  may  par- 
tray,  and  whicli  may  suit  the  circumstances  of  the  narra- 
tive ;  only  let  it  be  something  distinct — clear  and  dis- 
tinct in  all  its  parts ;  so  that  if  you  had  power  to  represent 
upon  canvass  by  painting  the  conceptions  of  your  mind, 
you  might  execute  a  perfect  picture  of  the  whole  scene. 

To  do  this  properly  will  require  time  and  thought. 
You  must  be  alone,  or  at  J^east  uninterrupted,  and  your 
first  effort  will  be  a  difficult  one.  The  power  of  forming 
clear  and  vivid  conceptions  of  this  kind  varies  greatly  in 
different  individuals.     The  faculty  can,  however,  be  cul- 


Ch.  8.]  STUDY    OF    THE    BIBLE.  "3l 

West's  picture  of  Christ  rejected.  Effect  upon  the  assembly. 

tivated  and  strengthened  by  exercise.  Historical  paint- 
ers, that  is,  painters  of  historical  scenes,  are  enabled  to 
produce  very  great  effects  by  the  possession  of  this  power. 
West,  for  example,  formed  in  his  own  mind  a  clear,  and 
vivid,  and  interesting  conception  of  the  scene  which  was 
exhibited  when  the  crowd  of  angry  Jews  rejected  the  Sa- 
vior and  called  for  his  crucifixion.  He  painted  this  scene, 
and  the  great  picture  which  he  has  thus  produced  hi.s 
been  gazed  at  with  intense  interest  by  many  thousands. 

I  saw  this  picture  in  the  gallery  of  the  Athenaeum  at 
Boston.  The  gallery  is  a  large  and  lofty  apartment,  light- 
ed by  windows  above,  and  containing  seats  for  hundreds. 
As  I  came  up  the  stairs  which  lead  into  the  room,  and 
stepped  from  them  upon  the  floor  of  the  apartment,  I 
found  a  large  company  assembled.  The  picture,  which 
was,  as  I  should  suppose,  ten  or  fifteen  feet  long,  stood 
against  one  side  of  the  apartment,  and  before  it,  arranged 
upon  the  seats,  were  the  assembled  spectators,  who  were 
gazing  with  intense  interest,  and  almost  in  perfect  silence, 
upon  the  scene.  As  we  came  forward  before  the  canvass 
we  felt  the  same  solemn  impression  which  had  silenced 
the  others,  and  it  was  interesting  and  affecting  to  observe, 
as  party  after  party  came  up  the  stairs,  talking  with  usual 
freedom,  that  their  voices  gradually  died  away,  and  they 
stood  silent  and  subdued  before  the  picture  of  the  Sa- 
vior.    > 

Yes  ;  there  stood  the  Savior  in  the  middle  of  the  pic- 
ture, passive  and  resigned,  and  with  a  countenance  whose 
expression  plainly  said  that  his  thoughts  were  far  away. 
The  Roman  governor  stood  before  his  palace  endeavor- 
ing to  persuade  the  mob  to  consent  to  their  prisoner's  re- 
lease. The  uncovered  and  hard-featured  soldiery  sat  at 
his  feet  upon  the  cross  which  they  had  been  carrying, 
and  were  holding  in  their  hands  the  spikes  with  which 
the  limbs  of  the  innocent  one  before  them  were  to  be 
pierced.     All  the  other  attendant  circumstances  were 


232  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   9. 

Writing  questions.  God's  command  to  Abraham- 

most  vividly  and  strikingly  represented.  The  mob  were 
there,  with  fury  and  rage  and  hate  in  every  variety  upon 
their  countenances.  Barabbas  was  there,  with  his  look 
of  hardened  and  unsubdued  guilt — and  the  centurion's 
little  daughter,  whose  life  Jesus  had  saved,  stood  by  her 
father,  apparently  entreating  him  to  interpose  his  power 
to  rescue  her  preserver. 

Now  West  must  have  possessed,  in  order  to  succeed  in 
executing  such  a  work,  the  power,  first,  of  forming  a  clear 
mental  conception  of  the  scene,  and  secondly,  of  repre- 
senting this  scene  by  colors  on  the  canvass.  The  former 
of  these  only  is  the  one  necessary  for  the  object  I  have 
above  described,  and  you  ought,  while  reading  accounts 
of  Scripture  scenes,  to  form  as  vivid  and  distinct  concep- 
tions of  the  scenes  described  as  if  you  were  actually  in 
tending  to  represent  them  by  the  pencil. 

2.  Writing  questions.  A  young  man,  with  pen  and 
paper  before  him,  sits  down,  I  will  suppose,  to  the  exami- 
nation of  some  portion  of  the  Bible,  intending  to  write 
questions  upon  tjie  passage,  such  as  he  v/ould  ask  if  he 
were  hearing  a  class  in  a  Sabbath  School.  Suppose  he 
opens  to  the  account  of  Abraham's  offering  Isaac. 

The  following  is  the  passage  ;  I  copy  it,  that  the  rea- 
der may  the  better  understand  the  questions. 

1.  And  it  came  to  pass  after  these  things,  that  God  did  tempt  Abra- 
ham, and  said  unto  liim,  Abraham  ;  and  he  said,  Behold,  here  I  am. 

2.  And  he  said,  Take  now  thy  son,  thine  only  son  Isaac,  whom 
thou  lovest,  and  get  thee  into  the  land  of  Moriah,  and  offer  him  there 
for  a  burnt  offering  upon  one  of  the  mountains  which  I  will  tell 
thee  of. 

3.  And  Abraham  rose  up  early  in  the  morning,  and  saddled  his  ass, 
and  took  two  of  his  young  men  with  him,  and  Isaac  his  son,  and  clave 
the  wood  for  the  burnt  offering,  and  rose  up  and  went  into  the  place 
of  which  God  had  told  him. 

4  Then  on  the  third  day,  Abraham  lifted  up  his  eyes  and  saw  the 
place  afar  off. 

6.  And  Abraham  said  unto  his  young  men,  Abide  ye  here  with 


Ch.  9.]  STUDY    OP    THE    BIBLE.  233 

Questions  upon  the  passage. 

the  ass:  and  I  and  the  lad  will  go  yonder  and  worship,  and  come 
again  to  you. 

He  reads  this  narrative  carefully,  verse  by  verse,  and 
writes  a  question  for  every  important  fact  stated.  Per- 
haps the  questions  might  be  somewhat  as  follows.  The 
reader,  in  examining  them,  is  particularly  requested  to 
compare  the  questions  individually  with  the  verses  in 
which  the  answers  are  contained.  I  ought  also  to  re- 
mark, that  I  do  not  offer  these  as  examples  of  good  ques- 
tions, but  only  as  a  specimen  of  such  as  I  suppose  most 
young  persons  would  write. 

1.  To  what  land  did  God  command  Abraham  to  go  to 
offer  up  his  son  ? 

2.  How  was  he  to  be  offered  1 

3.  Was  he  to  be  offered  on  a  mountain  ? 

4.  How  did  Abraham  travel  ? 

5.  What  time  did  he  set  out  ? 

G.  How  many  attendants  had  he  ? 

7.  How  long  a  journey  was  it? 

8.  What  is  stated  in  the  6th  verse? 

I  have  written  these  questions  as  I  imagine  they  might 
be  written  by  intelligent  young  persons.  Some  of  them 
are  however  evidently  not  good.  A  leading  question 
ought  not  to  be  asked,  i.  e.  one  so  written  as  to  imply 
v/hat  the  answer  is  ;  nor  ought  it  to  be  so  written  that 
the  answer  should  be  simply  yes  or  no.  No.  3  of  the 
above  is  a  leading  question.  No.  8,  too,  is  a  bad  ques- 
tion. It  is  not  important  that  one  should  remember  what 
is  told  in  any  particular  verse.  It  would  have  been  bet- 
ter in  some  such  form  as  this  : 

8.  What  arrangement  was  made  after  they  arrived  at  the  mountain  ? 

In  order  however,  that  my  readers  might  understand 
what  is  actually  attainable  by  young  persons  in  such  an 
exercise,  I  asked  a  boy  to  write  for  me  some  questions 


234  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   8. 

Questions  written  by  a  boy. 

on  Acts,  19,  and  I  insert  them  just  as  he  gave  them  to  me. 
It  was  his  first  attempt. 

"  When  ApoUos  was  at  Coiinlli,  what  did  Paul  do  ? 

Who  did  he  tind  there  ? 

What  did  he  say  to  ihem  ? 

What  answer  did  they  make  ? 

What  did  he  then  ask  them 

What  did  tliey  say  ? 

What  did  Paul  then  say  ? 

When  Paul  had  laid  his  hands  upon  them,  what  happened  ? 

How  many  men  were  they  .' 

Where  did  Paul  then  go  ? 

What  did  he  do  ? 

What  did  he  do  when  divers  were  hardened  ? 

For  how  long  a  time  did  this  continue  ? 

What  happened  to  those  who  dwelt  in  Asia  ? 

By  whose  hands  did  God  pcrt'orm  special  miracles  ? 

In  what  manner  did  Paul  heal  the  sick  ? 

What  is  said  in  the  13lli  verse  ? 

What  is  the  meaning  of  exorcist? 

iiow  many  were  there  that  did  so? 

What  did  the  evil  spirit  say  1 

What  did  the  man  in  w  horn  was  the  evil  spirit  do  ? 

What  did  they  do? 

To  whom  was  this  known  ? 

What  fell  on  them? 

Whose  name  was  magnified  ? 

What  did  many  do  who  believed  ? 

What  did  many  do  who  used  curious  arts? 

After  these  things  were  ended,  what  did  Paul  design  to  do  1 

Where  did  he  say  he  must  go  after  he  had  been  there  / 

Who  did  he  send  into  Macedonia  ? 

What  were  their  names  ? 

Where  did  he  stay  ? 

What  happened  at  that  time  ? 

What  was  the  cause  of  it  ? 

Who  was  Demetrius  ? 

What  accusation  did  he  bring  against  Paul  ? 

What  did  he  say  was  in  danger  ? 

What  did  they  do  when  they  heard  these  things  7 

What  happened  to  the  city  ? 

What  else  did  they  do  ? 

What  kept  Paul  from  going  in  to  the  people  ? 


Ch.  8.]  STUDY    OP  THE  BIBLE.  235 

Many  faulty.  Utility  of  writing  questions. 

My  readers  \vi\\  all  see  that  these  questions  are,  many 
of  them,  quite  faulty.  A  second  attempt,  if  tlic  writer 
had  read  the  remarks  I  have  made,  or  if  he  had  actually 
tried  his  questions  upon  a  class,  would  probably  have 
been  much  better. 

If  any  person  will  attempt  such  an  exercise  as  tl'is,  he 
will  find  it  among  one  of  the  most  efficient  means  of  fix- 
ing upon  his  mind  the  facts  contained  in  any  portion  of 
history  which  he  can  possibly  devise.  In  order  to  make 
out  the  question  you  look  at  the  fact  in  various  aspects 
and  relations.  All  its  connections  are  considered,  and 
the  mind  becomes  thoroughly  familiarized  with  it ;  for 
you  will  find,  after  a  very  little  practice,  that  the  same 
fact  may  be  made  the  subject  of  a  great  number  of  diffe- 
rent questions,  and  looking  at  these  and  choosing  between 
them  is  a  most  valuable  intellectual  exercise.  Take  for 
instance  the  very  question  I  have  already  spoken  of,  par- 
ticularly No.  8.  See  how  many  different  questions,  or 
rather  in  how  many  forms  the  same  question  can  be  ask- 
ed, some  bad  and  some  good,  upon  the  single  verse  to 
which  it  relates. 

1.  What  did  Abraham  say  to  the  young  men  when  he 
reached  the  mountain  ? 

2.  What  plan  did  Abraham  form  when  he  reached  the 
mountain  ? 

3.  Did  all  the  party  go  together  to  the  place  where 
Isaac  was  to  be  offered  ? 

4.  How  was  the  party  divided  when  they  reached  the 
mountain  ? 

5.  How  many  persons  went  with  Abraham  to  the  place 
of  sacrifice  ? 

6.  When  Abraham  went  with  Isaac  alone  to  the  place 
of  sacrifice,  what  did  he  say  he  was  going  for  ? 

7.  When  Abraham  left  the  young  men  behind,  to  go 
with  Isaac  alone  to  the  place  of  sacrifice,  what  did  he  say 
he  was  going  to  do? 


236  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Cll.  g. 


Many  questions  upon  one  verse.  Experiment  tried  by  a  mother. 

8.  What  did  he  tell  them  he  was  going  to  do?  AAas 
this  the  trutli  ?  Was  it  the  wliole  truth  ?  Are  we  always 
bound  to  tell  the  whole  truth/ 

The  reader  will  thus  see  that  one  and  the  same  fact 
may  be  viewed  in  so  many  aspects  and  relations  as  to 
suggest  a  very  large  number  of  questions.  After  a  very 
little  practice,  several  questions  will  accordingly  suggest 
themselves  at  each  verse  to  any  individual  who  attempts 
the  exercise.  He  will  consider  which  to  choose.  He  will, 
in  thus  considering,  necessarily  view  the  fact  stated  under 
its  various  aspects,  and  acquire  a  far  more  thorough  and 
permanent  knowledge  of  it  than  is  possible  in  any  other 
way.  So  great  is  the  advantage  of  this  method  of  writing 
questions  upon  an  author  which  the  pupil  desires  tho- 
roughly to  understand,  that  it  is  not  unfrcquently  adopt- 
ed in  schools — each  pupil  of  a  class  being  required  to 
write  questions  upon  a  part  or  upon  the  whole  of  a  les- 
son, which  questions  are  then  read  and  answered  at  the 
recitation. 

I  fancy  now  that  I  can  hear  some  one  of  my  readers,  of 
a  mind  somewhat  mature,  saying,  *'  I  will  myself  try  this 
experiment,  and  after  writing  the  questions,  I  will  read 
them  to  some  younger  members  of  the  family,  to  see  if 
they  can  lind  the  answers."  Perhaps  the  individual  who 
resolves  on  this  experiment  is  the  head  of  a  family — a 
mother.  She  gathers  her  children  around,  after  the  pub- 
lic services  on  the  Sabbath,  and  says  to  them — "  We  will 
study  a  chapter  in  the  Bible.  /  will  study,  and  you  shall 
study.  I  will  read  it  carefully,  and  write  in  this  little  book 
all  the  questions  I  can  think  of;  and  you  at  the  same  time 
may  read  it  attentively,  and  try  to  understand  it,  and  re- 
member what  it  says.  Then  after  tea  we  will  gather 
around  the  table  before  our  bright  fire,  and  I  will  read  my 
questions,  and  you  may  see  if  you  can  answer  them." 

The  children  enter  Avith  spirit  into  the  plan.  They  ga- 
ther into  a  little  circle,  and  read  their  lesson  aloud,  verse 


Ch.  8.]  STUDY    OF    THE    BIBLE.  237 


A  Sabbfith-Scliool  teacher. 


by  verse,  questionincr  each  other  in  regard  to  its  difficul- 
lies,  and  endeavoring  to  antici})ate  the  questions  which 
the  mother  is  preparing.  Even  the  Httle  Benjamin  of  the 
family  is  interested  ;  who,  though  lie  can  scarcely  read, 
looks  attentively  upon  his  Bible  with  the  large  print, 
hoping  that  there  will  be  some  easy  question  which  Avill 
come  to  him. 

At  the  appointed  hour  tliey  gatlicr  with  eager  interest 
to  their  recitation.  The  mother  finds  that  many  of  lier 
questions  are  ambiguous,  some  too  difficult,  and  ethers 
could  not  be  answered  from  fault  of  the  scholars  ;  still  a 
large  proportion  are  understood  and  answered.  The  mo- 
ral lessons  of  the  chapter  are  brought  to  view,  and  gent- 
ly but  forcibly  impressed  upon  the  heart. 

Are  you  a  Sabbath  School  teacher  1  Lay  aside  your 
printed  question-book  for  one  Sabbath,  and  write  ques- 
tions yourself  upon  the  lesson  of  the  day.  Then  com- 
pare what  you  have  Avritten  with  those  printed  for  your 
use.  Strike  out  from  your  own  list  all  which  are  upon  tlie 
other,  and  carry  the  rest  with  you  to  your  class,  and  sad 
to  your  pupils  somewhat  as  follows  : 

"I  have  been  M'riting  some  new^  questions  on  this  les- 
son. Now  I  do  not  suppose  you  can  answer  many  of 
them,  because  you  did  not  have  them  while  you  were 
studying.  But  should  you  like  to  have  me  read  them  to 
you,  and  let  you  try  1" 

You  will  in  such  a  case  find  the  curiosity  and  interest 
of  your  class  strongly  awakened  ;  and  though  your  first 
experiment  may  not  fully  succeed,  you  may  say  to  them, 
"  I  will  write  some  more  for  next  week.  When  you  are 
studying  your  lessons  then,  I  should  like  to  have  you  re- 
member that  I  am  writing  other  questions  than  those  in 
the  book,  and  endeavor  to  understand  and  remember  eve- 
ry fact  stated  in  the  lesson,  so  that  you  can  answer  all 
77iy  questions  as  well  as  the  printed  ones.  I  know  it  will 
be  hard,  but  I  presume  you  can  do  it." 


238  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    8. 

3.  Re-writing  Scripture.  The  boy's  evening  work. 

A  Sabbath  School  teacher  who  will  make  such  efforts 
as  these  to  render  his  work  more  intellectual,  and  to  in- 
terest himself  and  his  pupils  more  deeply  in  the  thorough 
study  of  their  lessons,  will  find  that  both  himself  and  his 
pupils  will  advance  with  at  least  double  rapidity. 

3.  Re-icriting  portions  of  Scripture.  Read,  or  rather 
study  some  portion  of  Scripture  thoroughly,  and  then 
write  the  substance  of  it  in  your  own  language.  I  can 
illustrate  this  best  perhaps  by  repeating  the  following 
dialogue.  It  is,  I  will  suppose,  Sabbath  evening  ;  the 
family  are  going  out,  and  one  son,  a  boy  of  fourteen,  is  to 
be  left  at  home. 

"What  sliall  I  do  this  evening?"  asks  the  son. 

"  What  would  you  like  to  do  ?" 

*'  I  don't  know.  I  am  to  be  all  the  evening  alone,  and 
I  want  something  to  employ  my  time." 

The  father  turns  to  the  5th  chapter  of  Luke,  and  says  : 

"  Take  this  chapter,  read  the  first  eleven  verses,  and 
form  a  clear  and  distinct  conception  of  the  whole  scene, 
just  as  if  you  had  witnessed  it.  Then  write  an  account 
of  it  in  your  own  language.  Be  careful  to  write  entirely 
in  your  own  language^ 

"  Must  I  not  use  the  language  of  the  Bible  at  all  ?" 

*'  No.  You  have  two  separate  things  to  do.  First  read 
the  account  attentively  and  thoroughly,  in  order  to  form 
in  your  own  mind  a  distinct  picture  of  the  whole.  Try 
to  see  it  as  plainly  as  if  you  had  stood  upon  the  bank  and 
actually  looked  down  upon  the  whole  transaction.  Then 
shut  your  Bible,  and  write  your  own  account  of  it,  just 
as  if  you  were  writing  a  letter  to  me,  and  describing  some- 
thing which  you  had  yourself  seen." 

Now  suppose  the  boy  engages  in  this  work  in  the  man- 
ner described  above,  with  how  much  more  interest  than 
usual  will  he  read  the  passage  !  He  will  scrutinize  it 
carefully  :  examine  every  circumstance  of  the  narrative 


Ch.  8.]  STUDY    OF    THE    BIBLE.  239 

Actual  case.  Passage.  Difficulty  arising. 

niinutely,  and  notice  many  points  of  interest  wliich  wouki 
ordinarily  escape  liim. 

Once  when  I  asked  a  lad,  under  circumstances  similar 
to  the  above,  to  re-write  this  passage,  he  had  not  been 
five  minutes  at  his  work  before  he  came  with  a  question 
which  I  presume  hundreds  of  my  readers  have  never 
tliought  to  ask,  though  they  all  have  doubtless  read  the 
passage  again.     I  must,  however,  first  give  the  passage. 

Luke  5:1. 

1.  And  it  came  to  pass  that  as  the  people  pressed  upon  him  to  hear 
the  word  of  God,  he  stood  by  the  lake  of  Gennesaret, 

2.  And  saw  two  ships  standing  by  the  lake  ;  but  the  fishermen  were 
gone  out  of  them,  and  were  washing  their  nets. 

3.  And  he  entered  into  one  of  the  ships,  which  was  Simon's,  and 
prayed  him  that  he  would  thrust  out  a  little  from  the  land.  And  he 
sat  down  and  taught  the  peojjle  out  of  the  ship. 

4.  Now  when  he  had  left  speaking,  he  said  unto  Simon,  Launch  out 
into  the  deep,  and  let  down  your  nets  for  a  draught. 

5.  And  Simon  answering,  said  unto  him,  Master,  we  have  toiled  all 
the  night,  and  have  taken  nothing;  nevertheless,  at  thy  word  I  will 
let  down  the  net. 

C.  And  when  they  bad  this  done,  they  enclosed  a  great  multitude  of 
fishes;  and  their  net  brake. 

7.  And  they  beckoned  unto  tlieir  partners,  wdiich  were  in  the  other 
ship,  that  they  should  come  and  help  them.  And  they  came,  and  fill- 
ed both  the  ships,  so  that  they  began  to  sink. 

8.  When  Simon  Peter  saw  it,  he  fell  down  at  Jesus'  knees,  saying, 
Depart  from  me,  for  I  am  a  sinful  man,  O  Lord. 

9.  For  he  was  astonished,  and  all  that  were  with  him,  at  the  draught 
of  the  fishes  which  they  had  taken  : 

10.  And  so  was  also  James  and  John,  the  sons  of  Zebedee,  which 
were  partners  with  Simon.  And  Jesus  said  unto  Siraon,  Fear  not; 
from  henceforth  thou  shall  catch  men. 

11.  And  when  they  had  brought  their  ships  to  land  they  forsook 
all  and  followed  him. 


The  difficulty  proposed  was  this  : 
"In  the  second  verse,"  says  he,  "  it  is  said  that  the  fish- 
ermen had  gone  out  of  their  boats,  and  were  washing 


240  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   S. 

Explanation  of  it.  The  Paraphrase. 

their  nets,  but  in  the  third,  Christ  enters  one  of  them 
and  asks  Simon  to  move  off  a  little  from  the  shore  ;  that 
seems  as  if  Simon  was  in  his  boat." 

How  apparent  was  it  from  this  que-stion,  that  he  was 
reading  the  Bible  understandingly,  and  not  merely  re- 
peating once  more  the  familiar  sounds  by  which  the 
scenes  of  that  passage  are  described  !  Upon  a  little  re- 
flection, it  was  manifest  that  Simon  might  have  remained 
in  his  boat,  while  the  fishermen  generally  had  gone 
ashore  ;  or  he  might  have  stood  near,  so  as  to  be  easily 
addressed  by  the  Savior.  The  difticulty  vanished  in  a 
moment.  But,  by  the  ordinary,  dull,  sluggish  reading  of 
the  Bible,  both  difliculty  and  solution  would  have  been 
alike  unseen. 

The  following  was  the  description  produced  in  this 
case  :  I  copy  it  without  alteration,  that  my  readers  may 
see,  from  actual  inspection  of  an  actual  example,  what  de- 
gree of  success  they  may  expect  to  attain. 

"  Once,  as  Jesus  was  standing  near  a  lake  called  Gennesaret,  a  great 
multitude  crowded  around  him,  wishing  to  have  him  address  them. 
He  saw  near  the  shore  two  fishing  vessels,  but  the  fishermen  li.id 
gone  away  to  clean  their  nets.  He  went  into  one  of  them,  which  be- 
longed to  Simon,  and  asked  him  to  shove  the  vessel  out  a  little  way 
into  the  water,  and  he  talked  to  the  people  from  the  deck.  When  he 
had  finished,  he  told  Simon  to  go  out  into  the  sea  and  cast  in  their 
nets  in  order  to  get  some  fish.  And  Simon  said  to  him,  we  have 
been  working  all  night  and  have  not  caught  any  thing,  but  as  you 
have  desired  it,  we  will  let  down  our  nets  again.  Having  done  it, 
they  took  a  great  many  fishes,  and  their  net  was  broken,  and  there 
were  so  many  fishes  that  both  ships  were  filled  and  began  to  sink. 
Simon  was  so  much  astonished,  and  they  that  were  with  him,  at  tak- 
ing so  many  fishes  this  time,  when  ihey  had  been  laboring  all  night 
and  caught  nothing,  that  (he  fell  down  before  Jesus,  saying.  Depart 
from  me,  for  I  am  a  sinful  man.)  Simon's  companions,  James  and 
John,  were  also  surprised  at  the  fishes.  And  when  they  had  brought 
their  ships  to  the  shore,  they  left  all  their  things  and  followed  Jesus." 

The  part  encloesd  in  a  parenthesis  is  Scripture  language. 


Ch.  8.]  STUDY  OF  THE   BIBLE.  241 

Story  of  Micah. 

The  boy  said  he  could  not  express  that  idea  in  any  other 
way,  and  he  adopted  that  method  of  indicating  that  the 
language  of  the  Bible  was,  in  that  clause,  retained. 

I  have  obtained  also  several  other  specimens  of  a  si- 
milar character,  written  by  persons  of  different  ages  and 
of  various  intellectual  attainments  ;  two  or  three  of  which 
I  will  insert  here.  The  reader  will  observe  that  these 
were  written  by  persons  of  very  different  degrees  of  men- 
tal maturity.  The  style  is  very  dissimilar  in  the  different 
specimens,  and  they  show  therefore  more  distinctly  that 
the  exercise  is  of  such  a  nature  as  to  be  adapted  to  every 
age  and  capacity 

THE    STORY    OF    MICAH. 

"  A  woman  belonging  to  one  of  the  tribes  of  the  Israelites,  from  a 
mistaken  idea  of  true  religion,  resolved  to  procure  some  images  for 
her  household  worship,  intending  to  consecrate  her  son  to  act  as 
priest.  She  accordingly  dedicated  to  the  Lord  the  sum  to  be  paid  for 
making  the  images,  and  laid  it  aside  for  the  purpose.  This  money 
was  stolen  from  her  by  Micah,  the  very  son  for  whose  benefit  chiefly 
she  had  formed  the  plan.  Upon  missing  the  money,  zhe  was  greatly 
enraged,  and  pronounced,  in  the  hearing  of  her  son,  the  severest  im- 
precations upon  the  sacrilegious  thief.  This  so  terrified  Micah  that 
he  confessed  his  crime  and  restored  the  money  to  his  mother.  Her 
joy  was  very  great  at  receiving  again  her  treasure.  She  told  her  son 
to  what  purpose  it  was  appropriated,  and  they  accordingly  procured  the 
images.  It  was  agreed  that  instead  of  Micah,  one  of  his  sons  should 
act  as  priest,  until  a  more  suitable  person  should  be  obtained.  The 
son  was  accordingly  provided  with  sacerdotal  apparel  and  consecrat- 
ed to  the  priesthood. 

Under  these  circumstances  the  idol  worship  went  on  for  some  time, 
until  there  came  one  day  to  the  house  of  Micah  a  wandering  Levite, 
by  the  name  of  Jonathan.  This  man  seemed  to  be  out  of  employ- 
ment, and  being  of  the  Levites,  the  tribe  set  apart  for  the  holyoflSces, 
Micah  thought  he  should  do  well  to  retain  him  as  his  family  priest. 
Accordingly,  he  made  to  him  proposals  to  this  effect,  offering  him 
for  his  services,  his  board,  one  suit  of  clothes,  and  a  small  sum  of 
money  a  year.  Jonathan  very  gladly  agreed  to  these  terms,  and  was 
forthwith  constituted  priest. 

11 


S42  VOUNG  CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   8. 

Story  of  Micah  continued. 

"  It  happened  soon  after,  that  there  came  to  Micah's  house  a  number 
of  men  who  had  been  sent  out  by  the  tribe  of  Dan  to  survey  the 
adjacent  country,  Avitli  a  view  to  enlarging  their  own  territories. 
When  these  men  came  to  Micah's  house  they  recognized  with  sur- 
prise the  voice  of  the  newly  consecrated  priest.  They  inquired  how 
he  came  tliere,  and  what  he  was  about.  The  Levite  told  them  his 
story;  and  the  Danites  seem  to  have  regarded  the  circumstances  erf 
the  affair  as  perfectly  proper;  for  they  even  requested  that  he  would 
inquire  of  the  Lord  for  them,  if  they  should  meet  with  success  in 
their  present  expedition.  The  Levite  pretended  to  make  the  inquiiy, 
and  returned  to  them  a  favorable  answer.  The  event  was  such  as 
the  Levite  predicted.  The  Danites  succeeded  in  driving  before  them 
the  inhabitants  of  the  territoiies  they  wished  to  possess.  After  the 
conquest,  as  the  army  were  passing  the  house  of  Micah,  the  five  men 
who  had  first  been  sent  out,  and  who  had  stopped  at  this  house,  in- 
formed the  othcj-s  that  there  were  in  it  a  graven  and  a  molten  image, 
and  a  priest  with  an  ephod;  and  perhaps  intimating  that  in  their  new 
settlement  they  would  themselves  need  such  an  establishment,  they 
inquired  what  had  best  be  done.  After  some  deliberation,  it  was 
agreed  forcibly  to  take  from  Micah  his  images  and  the  sacerdotal  gar- 
ments, and  to  entice  the  priest  to  go  with  them.  Accordingly,  while 
the  rest  of  the  army  remained  as  guards  at  the  entrance  of  the  house, 
the  five  men  before  mentioned  went  in  and  commenced  their  depre- 
dations. The  priest  inquired  in  amazement  what  they  were  about. 
"  Hush  !"  said  the  men  ;  "  say  nothing  and  go  with  us ;  will  it  not  be 
more  to  your  advantage  to  be  the  priest  of  a  whole  tribe  than  of  only 
one  man  ?"  The  Levite  was  overjoyed  at  the  proposal,  and  prepared 
immediately  to  set  out  with  them. 

"  Great  was  the  dismay  of  Micah  upon  finding  himself  thus  robbed 
of  priest  and  gods.  He  called  his  neighbors  to  his  assistance,  and 
collecting  a  small  company  together,  he  went  in  pursuit  of  the  de- 
predators. As  he  approached  the  army,  they  inquired  of  him  why 
he  had  come  out  with  such  a  company.  ''What  ails  you?"  said 
they.  "  JF/ta<  at/s  me /"  replied  JMicah  ;  "you  have  taken  from  me 
my  priest  and  my  gods,  and  now  you  ask  What  a'ds  me  /"  "  You  had 
better  return  to  your  house,"  said  some  one  of  the  number,  "or  you 
will  lose  your  life."  Seeing  that  there  was  no  possibility  of  prevail- 
ing against  hundreds  of  armed  men,  Micah  took  the  advice  of  the 
Danite  and  returned  home. 

"  Meanwhile  the  army  of  the  Danites  pursued  their  way  to  the  place 
of  their  destination,  where  they  established  the  worship  of  their  sto- 
len images,  under  the  direction  of  the  runaway  priest." 


Cll.    8.]  STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  243 


Two  specimens  on  the  same  subject. 


The  two  following  are  upon  the  same  subject,  but  the 
writers  were  17  and  11  years  of  age.  They  are  accord- 
ingly very  different  in  their  style  and  character. 

BELSHAZZAU'S    FEAST. 

"The  king  of  Babylon,  named  Belsliazzar,  made  a  great  feast  for 
all  his  lords,  his  wivt-s,  and  concubines.  And  he  sent  and  took  from 
the  house  of  the  Lord  the  golden  and  silver  vessels,  and  he  and  his 
company  drank  wine  out  of  them.  While  they  were  enjoying  in 
impious  mirth  the  feast,  the  Hngers  of  a  man's  hand  were  seen  on  the 
plastering  of  the  wall,  over  against  the  candlestick.  Then  was  the 
king  very  much  frightened,  and  his  knees  smote  against  each  other. 
He  sent  for  all  the  wise  men  in  the  kingdom  to  read  the  writing,  but 
they  could  not.  Th^n  he  called  aloud  again.  If  any  man  can  read  it 
he  shaH  be  clothed  in  scarlet,  and  have  a  chain  of  gold  around  his 
neck,  and  shall  be  the  third  ruler  in  the  kingdom.  Then  came  in 
his  wife  the  queen,  to  tell  him  that  there  was  a  man  who  could  inter- 
pret dreams,  whose  name  was  Daniel.  He  read  the  writing.  Mene — 
God  hatii  finished  thy  kingdom.  Tekel — Thou  art  weighed,  and  art 
found  wanting. 

"  Pere — Thy  kingdom  is  given  to  the  Medes  and  Persians.  Then 
was  a  proclamation  made  that  he  was  the  third  ruler  in  the  kingdom. 

"  And  the  same  night  the  king  died." 

STORY   OF    BELSHAZZAR. 

"It  was  night ;  but  the  usual  stillness  of  that  hour  was  broken  by 
the  sounds  of  feasting  and  revelry.  It  had  been  a  festival  day  in  Ba- 
bylon, and  the  inhabitants  had  not  yet  sunk  into  repose.  The  song 
and  the  dance  still  continued,  and  the  voice  of  music  was  heard.  All 
seemed  in  perfect  security,  and  no  precautions  had  been  taken  to  avoid 
the  danger  which  hung  over  their  devoted  heads.  An  invading  army 
was,  even  then,  surrounding  the  walls  of  the  city ;  but  those  who  ought 
to  have  defended  it,  confident  and  secure,  left  it  unguarded  and  ex- 
posed to  the  attacks  of  the  enemy.  Fear  was  excluded  even  from  the 
walls  of  the  palace,  and  the  monarch  was  giving  his  own  example  of 
rioting  and  mirth  to  his  subjects.  A  thousand  of  the  noblest  lords  in 
his  kingdom  were  feasting  with  him,  as  his  invited  guests.  They  had 
already  "tarried  long  at  the  wine,"  when  Belshazzar,  in  the  prid  ^and 
impiety  of  his  heart,  commanded  his  servants  to  bring  the  silver  and 
golden  vessels  w  hich  had  been  taken  by  his  gi-andfather  Neiiuchad- 


^^  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Cll.    8. 

Questions. 

nezzar  from  the  temple  at  Jerusalem.  They  were  brought  and  fill- 
ed with  wine  ;  and  as  they  drank  it,  they  extolled  their  gods  of  wood 
and  of  stone. 

"  But  while  they  were  thus  sacrilegiously  employed,  their  mirth  was 
suddenly  changed  into  amazement  and  consternation.  A  hand  like 
that  of  a  man  was  seen  to  write  upon  the  wall  of  fhe  palace,  and  as 
they  gazed  upon  it,  it  traced  the  sentence,  "Mene,  Mene,  Tekel,  U- 
pharsin."  No  one  among  that  vast  company  understood  its  meaning, 
but  to  their  affrighted  imagination  it  was  full  of  portentous  import. 
The  king,  who  was  exceedingly  terrified,  sent  in  haste  for  all  the  as- 
trologers, and  those  persons  in  whose  powers  of  divination  he  had 
been  accustomed  to  place  confidence  ;  but  none  could  explain  the 
mysterious  warning.  At  this  juncture  the  queen  entered,  and  inform- 
ed the  king  that  Daniel  was  in  the  city,  and  that  he  was  supposed  to 
possess  the  wisdom  of  the  Gods.  He  was  hastily  summoned  into  the 
royal  presence,  and  after  reproving  the  trembling  and  condemned 
monarch  for  the  pride  of  heart  which  he  had  manifested,  revealed  to 
him  the  doom  which  was  pronounced  upon  him.  He  told  him  that 
his  kingdo:?!  and  his  own  life  were  nearly  at  a  close  ;  that  his  empire 
should  be  divided  between  the  Medes  and  Persians:  and  also  thathis 
own  character  had  been  examined,  and  found  lamentably  deficient. 

*'  The  reward  which  had  been  promised  was  now  bestowed  upon 
Daniel.  He  was  arrayed  in  a  kingly  robe,  adorned  with  a  golden 
chain,  and  proclaimed  the  third  in  authority  in  the  kingdom.  Ere  the 
next  rising  sun  Belshazzar  was  numbered  with  the  dead." 

QUESTIONS. 

At  what  time  and  under  what  circumstances  had  the  golden  and  sil 
ver  vessels  been  taken  from  the  temple  at  Jerusalem  ? 

In  what  language  was  the  writing  upon  the  wall;  and  why  could  no 
one  of  the  wise  men  of  Babylon  interpret  it? 

Why  were  the  C/iaWcans  included  among  the  astrologers  and  sooth- 
Bayers  ? 

The  original  writing  was,  "  Mene,  Mene,  Tekel,  Upharsin ;"  why, 
in  the  interpretation,  is  Peres  substituted  for  Upharsin? 

It  is  a  very  good  plan  to  write  questions  at  the  close 
of  such  an  exercise  as  in  the  last  specimen,  bringing  up 
difficulties  which  have  occurred  to  the  writer  while  read- 
ing and  writing  the  account.  These  questions  can  be 
subsequently  proposed  to  some  person  qualified  to  an- 


Ch.    8.]  STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE. 

4.  Collating  the  Scriptures.  Plan  tried  by  James  and  John, 

swer  them.  The  whole  plan  may  be  adopted  more  or 
less  extensively,  according  to  the  time  and  taste  of  the 
individual.  I  knew  a  young  man  who  re-wrote  the  whole 
book  of  the  Ads  in  this  way.  The  result  he  preserved 
in  a  neat  manuscript,  and  the  effort  undoubtedly  im- 
pressed the  facts  on  his  memory  with  a  distinctness 
which  remained  for  years. 

4.  Collating  the  Scriptures.  The  next  method  I  shall 
describe,  by  which  variety  and  efficiency  can  be  given  to 
your  study  of  the  Scriptures,  may  be  called  collation. 
It  consists  of  carefully  comparing  two  or  more  different 
accounts  of  the  same  transaction. 

To  illustrate  it,  I  will  imagine  that  two  young  per- 
sons sit  down  on  a  Sabbath  afternoon  by  their  fireside 
to  read  the  Bible,  and  they  conclude  to  collate  the  seve- 
ral accounts  of  Paul's  conversion.  To  show  that  this 
exercise  does  not  require  any  advanced  age,  or  maturity 
of  mind,  I  will  imagine  that  the  scholars  are  quite 
young,  and  will  give  in  detail  the  conversation,  as  we 
might  imagine  it  in  such  a  case  to  be.  We  will  suppose 
James  to  be  thirteen  or  fourteen  years  of  age,  and  John 
some  years  younger. 

John.   ♦'  Well,  what  shall  we  read  ?" 

James.  "  I  think  it  would  be  a  good  plan  for  us  to  read 
and  compare  the  two  accounts  of  the  conversion  of  Paul. 
Here  is  the  first  account  in  the  ninth  chapter  of  the  Acts, 
and  I  believe  he  afterward  gave  some  account  of  it  him- 
self in  his  speech." 

John.   "  What  speech  V 

James.  "  Some  speech  he  made  at  his  trial.  I  will  try 
to  find  it ;  it  is  somewhere  in  the  last  part  of  the  book  of 
Acts." 

The  boys  turn  over  the  leaves  of  their  Bibles,  until  at 
last  James  says, 

*'  Here  it  is ;  I  have  found  it ;  it  is  in  the  26th 
chapter." 


246  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  8. 

Three  accounts  of  Paul's  conversion. 

"  No,"  says  John,  "  it  is  in  the  22d ;  it  begins  at  the 
4th  verse." 

James.  "  Let  me  see  it.  O,  there  are  two  accounts 
in  his  speeches ;  that  makes  three  in  all.  Would  you 
compare  them  all?" 

John,  "  Yes  ;  we  can  put  orir  fingers  into  all  the  places, 
and  read  one  verse  of  one,  and  then  one  verse  of  ano- 
ther, and  so  go  through." 

James.  "  Well,  let  us  see  where  these  two  speeches 
were  made." 

The  boys  then  examine  the  introductory  remarks  con- 
nected with  these  two  addresses  of  the  Apostle,  and  learn 
before  whom  and  under  what  circumstances  they  were 
made,  and  then  proceed  with  their  comparison. 

James.   "  I  will  read  first  in  the  ninth  chapter." 

1.  "And  Saul,  yet  breathing  out  threatenings  and 
slaughter  against  the  disciples  of  the  Lord,  went  unto  the 
high  priest. 

2.  "And  desired  of  him  letters  to  Damascus,  to  the  sy- 
nagogues, that  if  he  found  any  of  this  way,  whether  they 
were  men  or  women,  he  might  bring  them  bound  unto 
.Jerusalem." 

"  Now  you  may  read  as  much,"  he  continues,  **  in  the 
22d  chapter." 

John.  "  Where  shall  I  begin  ?" 

James.  (Looking  at  the  passage),  "  At  the  5th  verse, 
I  believe." 

John.  (Reading.)  5.  "As  also  the  high  priest  doth 
bear  me  witness,  and  all  the  estate  of  the  elders  ;  from 
whom  also  I  received  letters  unto  the  brethren,  and  went 
to  Damascus,  to  bring  them  which  were  there  bound  unto 
Jerusalem,  for  to  be  punished." 

"  Do  you  see  any  difference,  James  ?" 

James.  "  Yes  ;  there  are  two  differences  :  it  says  in 
the  first  account  that  he  took  letters  from  the  high 
priest  alone  ;  and  in  the  second,  from   the  elders  too-— 


Ch.    8.]  STUDY    OF    THE    BIBLE.  34'7 

Effect  of  this  method. 

all  the  estate  of  the  elders.  It  says  too,  in  the  first  ac- 
count, that  his  letters  were  to  the  synagogues,  but  in  the 
second,  that  tliey  were  to  the  brethren." 

Boys  of  twelve  years  of  age  would  probably  see  no 
farther  than  to  notice  such  obvious  points  of  comparison 
as  those  I  have  mentioned;  but  a  maturer  mind,  attempt- 
ing this  same  exercise,  would  go  far  deeper,  and  conse- 
quently with  a  stronger  interest,  into  the  subject.  Such 
an  one  will  take  great  pleasure  in  observing  how  every 
expression  in  the  account  in  the  22d  chapter  corresponds 
with  the  circumstances  in  which  Paul  was  placed.  He 
was  in  Jerusalem.  A  great  popular  tumult  had  been  ex- 
cited against  him.  A  few  of  his  determined  enemies  had, 
by  the  arts  with  which  it  is  always  easy  for  bad  men  to 
inflame  the  multitude,  urged  them  on  almost  to  fury,  and 
an  immense  throng  had  gathered  around  him,  with  the 
marks  of  the  most  determined  hostility  in  their  looks 
and  gestures  and  actions.  At  this  moment  a  Roman  mi- 
litary force  appeared  for  his  rescue  ;  he  was  drawn  out 
from  the  crowd,  and  standing  upon  the  stairs  of  the  castle, 
above  the  tumultuous  sea  from  which  he  had  been  saved, 
he  attempts  to  address  the  assembly. 

He  had  been  represented  to  the  crowd  as  a  foreigner  — 
an  Egyptian,  who  had  come  to  Jerusalem  to  excite  sedi- 
tion and  tumult ;  and  of  course  his  first  aim  would  na- 
turally be  to  destroy  this  impression,  and  present  himself 
before  this  assembly  as  their  fellow  countryman — one 
who  had  long  resided  among  them,  and  had  regarded 
them  as  brethren.  How  natural  is  it  therefore  that  he 
should  speak  so  distinctly  of  his  connection  with  the 
Jewish  nation !  He  commences  his  account  with  the 
statement  that  he  is  a  Jew — by  birth,  by  education,  and 
by  feelings.  This  peculiarity  in  the  speaker's  condition 
accounts  most  fully  and  in  a  most  interesting  manner  for 
the  difi"erence  between  the  expressions  which  he  uses 
here,  and  those  used  in  the  9th  chapter.    Where,  in  the 


248  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  8. 

Advantages  of  the  plan.  List  of  Lessons. 

narrative^  the  high  priest  only  was  alluded  to  in  the 
defence^  the  speaker  mentions  respectfully  all  the  estate 
of  the  elders.  The  historian^  employing  the  simple  his- 
torical style,  says  that  Paul  went  with  letters  to  the  syna- 
gogues. The  orator^  in  his  eflbrt  to  allay  irritated  feel- 
ing, uses  the  word  brethren — a  term  equally  correct,  but 
far  more  suitable  to  his  purpose. 

I  make  these  remarks,  not  to  go  into  a  commentary 
upon  Paul's  speech,  but  to  show  what  kind  of  reflections 
will  occur  to  an  intelligent  mind,  in  thus  collating  diffe- 
rent portions  of  the  sacred  volume.  Notice  every  diffe- 
rence ;  and  endeavor  to  discover,  in  the  circumstances  of 
the  case,  its  cause.  You  will  find  by  so  doing  that  new 
and  striking  beauties  will  arise  to  view  at  every  step  ; 
the  pages  of  the  Bible  will  look  brighter  and  brighter, 
with  meaning  hitherto  unseen,  and  you  will  find  new 
exhibitions  of  character  and  conduct  so  natural  and  yet  so 
simple  as  to  constitute  almost  irresistible  evidence  of 
the  reality  of  the  scenes  which  the  sacred  history  de- 
scribes. 

There  are  a  great  many  of  the  events  of  which  two  dif- 
ferent accounts  are  given  in  the  Bible,  which  may  be  ad- 
vantageously collated  in  the  manner  I  have  described. 
In  hopes  that  some  of  my  readers  will  study  the  Scrip- 
tures in  this  way,  I  enumerate  some  of  them. 

LESSONS. 

SolomoTi's  Choice.     1  Kings  and  2  Chronicles. 
Dedication  of  the  Temple.     1  Kings,  2  Chronicles. 
Revolt  of  the  Ten  Tribes.     1  Kings,  2  Chronicles. 
Story  of  Elisha. 
Story  of  Elijah. 

Story  of  Hezekiah.     Kings,  Chronicles,  and  Isaiah. 
Genealogical  Line  from  Adam  to  Abraham.     Genesis 
and  1  Chronicles. 


Ch.  8.]  STUDY    OF    THE    BIBLE.  5^49 

Difficulties  to  be  anticipated. 

Catalogue  of  the  Kings  of  Israel.  Kings  and  Chro- 
nicles. 

Catalogue  of  the  Kings  of  Judah,  Kings  and  Chro- 
nicles. 

Preaching  of  John  the  Baptist,  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke, 
and  John. 

The  Temptation  of  Christ.  Matthew,  Mark,  and 
Luke. 

The  Savior^s  Arrest.     Four  Evangelists. 

His  Trial.     Four  Evangelists. 

His  Death.     Four  Evangelists. 

His  Resurrection.     Four  Evangelists. 

Institution  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  Matthew  and  1  Co- 
rinthians. 

Genealogy  of  Christ.     Matthew  and  Luke. 

The  above  subjects  vary  very  much  in  the  degree  of 
intellectual  efibrt  necessary  for  their  examination,  and  in 
nearly  all  the  reader  will  often  be  involved  in  difficulties 
which  he  cannot  easily  remove.  If  we  merely  read  the 
Bible,  chapter  after  chapter,  in  a  sluggish  and  formal 
manner,  we  see  little  to  interest  us  and  little  to  perplex ; 
but  in  the  more  thorough  and  scrutinizing  mode  of  study 
which  I  here  suggest,  both  by  this  mode  and  the  others 
I  have  been  describing,  we  shall  find  beauties  and  diffi- 
culties coming  up  together.  Let  every  one  then  who 
undertakes  such  a  collation  of  different  accounts,  expect 
difficulty.  Do  not  be  surprised  at  apparent  contradic- 
tions in  the  narrative  ;  you  will  find  many.  Do  not  be 
surprised  when  you  find  various  circumstances  in  the  dif- 
ferent accounts  which  you  find  it  impossible  for  you  to 
bring  together  into  one  view  ;  you  must  expect  such 
difficulties.  Look  at  them  calmly  and  patiently  ;  seek 
solutions  from  commentaries  and  from  older  Christians, 
and  what  you  cannot  by  these  means  understand,  quietly 
leave.  A  book  which,  under  divine  guidance,  employed 
11* 


250  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  8 

The  Sabbath.  Jerusalem 

the  pens  of  from  fifty  to  a  hundred  writers — scattered 
through  a  period  of  4000  years  ;  whose  scenes  extend 
over  a  region  of  immense  extent,  and  whose  narratives 
are  involved  with  the  most  minute  history  of  all  the  great 
nations  of  antiquity — Babylon,  Assyria,  Persia,  Greece, 
and  Rome — such  a  book  yx)u  must  not  expect  to  under- 
stand fully  in  a  day. 

5.  Studying  by  subjects.  Select  some  subject  upon 
which  a  good  deal  of  information  may  be  found  in  vari- 
ous parts  of  the  Bible,  and  make  it  your  object  to  bring 
together  into  one  view  all  that  the  Bible  says  upon  that 
subject.  Take  for  instance  the  life  of  the  Apostle  Peter. 
Suppose  you  make  it  your  business  on  one  Sabbatli,  with 
the  help  of  a  brother,  or  sister,  or  any  other  friend  who 
will  unite  with  you  in  the  work,  to  obtain  all  the  infor- 
mation which  the  Bible  gives  in  regard  to  him.  By  the 
help  of  the  Concordance  you  find  all  the  places  in  which 
he  is  mentioned — you  compare  tlie  various  accounts  in 
the  four  gospels;  see  in  what  they  agree  and  in  what 
they  differ.  After  following  down  his  history  as  far 
as  the  Evangelists  bring  it,  you  take  up  the  book  of  the 
Acts,  and  go  through  that  for  information  in  regard  to 
this  Apostle,  omitting  those  parts  which  relate  to  other 
subjects.  In  this  way  you  become  fully  acquainted  with 
his  character  and  history  ;  you  understand  it  as  a  whole. 

Jerusalem  is  another  good  subject,  and  the  examina- 
tion would  afford  scope  for  the  exercise  of  the  faculties 
of  the  highest  minds  for  many  Sabbaths  :  find  when  the 
city  is  first  named,  and  from  the  manner  in  which  it  is 
mentioned,  and  the  circumstances  connected  with  the 
earliest  accounts  of  it,  ascertain  what  sort  of  a  city  it 
was  at  that  time.  Then  follows  its  history  down  ;  notice 
the  changes  as  they  occur  ;  understand  every  revolution, 
examine  the  circumstances  of  every  battle  and  siege  of 
which  it  is  the  scene,  and  thus  become  acquainted  with 
its  whole  story  down  to  the  time  when  the  sacred  narra- 


Ch.  8.] 

STUDY    OF    THE    BIBLE. 

251 

The  Sabbalh. 

List  of  topics 

tion  leaves  it.  To  do  this  well,  will  require  patient  and 
careful  investigation.  You  cannot  do  it  as  you  can  read 
a  chapter,  carelessly  and  with  an  unconcerned  and  unin- 
terested mind  ;  you  must,  if  you  would  succeed  in  such 
an  investigation,  engage  in  it  in  earnest.  And  that  is  the 
very  advantage  of  such  a  method  of  study;  it  breaks  up 
effectually  that  habit  of  listless,  dull,  inattentive  reading 
of  the  Bible  which  so  extensively  prevails. 

You  may  take  the  subject  of  the  Sahhatli;  examine  the 
circumstances  of  its  first  appointment,  and  then  follow 
its  history  down,  so  far  as  it  is  given  in  the  Bible,  to  the 
last  Sabbath  alluded  to  on  the  sacred  pages. 

The  variety  of  topics  which  might  profitably  be  studied 
in  this  way  is  vastly  greater  than  would  at  first  be  sup- 
posed. There  are  a  great  number  of  biographical  and 
geographical  topics — a  great  number  which  relate  to 
manners,  and  customs,  and  sacred  instructions.  In  fact, 
the  whole  Bible  may  be  analyzed  in  this  way,  and  its  va- 
rious contents  brought  before  the  mind  in  new  aspects, 
and  with  a  freshness  and  vividness  which,  in  the  mere 
repeated  reading  of  the  Scriptures  in  regular  course 
can  never  be  seen.  It  may  assist  the  reader  who  is  dis- 
posed to  try  the  experiment,  if  I  present  a  small  list ;  it 
might  be  extended  easily  to  any  length. 

BIOGRAPHICAL    TOPICS. 

Hezekiah.  Herod. 

Daniel.  John  the  Baptist. 

Elijah.  Peter. 

Elisha.  Nicodemus. 

Isaiah.  Judas. 

Jeremiah. 

GEOGRAPHICAL    AND    HISTORICAL    TOPICS. 

Jerusalem.  Sea  of  Galilee 

Egypt.  Tyre. 


252  YOUNG   CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    8. 

Too  little  intellectual  study  of  the  Bible. 

Nile.  Sidon. 

Babylon.  Philistines. 

Red  Sea.  Moabites. 

Jordan.  Ammonites. 

Damascus.  Ethiopia. 
Samaria. 

TOPICS     RELATING     TO     RELIGIOUS     RITES. 

Sacrifices.  Ark  of  the  Covenant. 

Sabbath.  Tabernacle. 

Pentecost.  Baptism. 

Feast  of  Tabernacles.  Lord's  Supper. 

Passover.  Synagogues. 
Fasting. 

There  are  various  other  methods  which  might  be  men- 
tioned and  described  ;  but  enough  has  been  said  to  ena- 
ble, I  think,  any  one  who  is  disposed,  to  engage  at  once, 
for  a  short  time  each  Sabbath,  in  such  an  intellectual 
study  of  the  Bible.  Parents  can  try  the  experiments  I 
have  above  described  in  their  families ;  and  Sabbath 
school  teachers  can  try  them  in  their  classes.  Sabbath 
schools  would  be  astonishingly  improved  at  once,  if  the 
teachers  would  put  their  ingenuity  into  requisition  to  de- 
vise and  execute  new  plans,  so  as  to  give  variety  to  the 
exercises.  There  would  be  a  spirit  and  interest  exhibited, 
both  by  teacher  and  pupil,  which  the  mere  servile  reading 
of  printed  questions,  and  listening  to  answers  mechani- 
cally committed,  never  can  produce. 

There  is  far  too  little  of  this  intellectual  study  of  the 
Bible,  even  among  the  most  devoted  Christians.  Its  lite- 
rature, its  history,  its  biography,  the  connection  of  its 
parts — all  are  very  little  understood.  It  is  indeed  true, 
that  the  final  aim  of  the  Bible  is  to  teach  us  personal 
religious  duty.  It  comes  to  the  conscience — not  to  the 
literary  taste  of  men ;  and  is  designed  to  guide  their  de- 


Ch.  8.]  STUDY    OP    THE    BIBLE.  253 

Object  of  the  historic  form. 

votions,  not  to  gratify  their  curiosity,  or  their  love  of  his- 
toric truth.    But  why  is  it  that  God  has  chosen  the  historic 
form,  as  a  means  of  communicating  his  truth?  Why  is  it 
that  his  communications  with  mankind  were  for  so  many 
years  so  completely  involved  with  the  political  history  of 
a  powerful  nation,  that  that  whole  history  must  be  given? 
Why  is  our  Savior's  mission  so  connected  with  the  Ro- 
man government,  and  all  this  connection  so  fully  detailed 
that  no   inconsiderable   portion   of  the   geography,  and 
customs,  and  laws   of  that  mighty  empire  are  detailed  in 
the  Evangelists  and  Acts?    The  moral  lessons  which  our 
Savior  taught  might  have  been  presented  in  their  simple 
didactic  form.    The  whole  plan  of  salvation,  through  the 
sufferings  of  a  Redeemer,  might  have  been  given  us  in 
one  single  statement,  instead  of  leaving  us  to  gather  it 
piece   by  piece  from  multitudes  of  narratives,   and   ad- 
dresses, and  letters.    Why  is  it  then,  that  instead  of  one 
simple  proclamation  from  the  Majesty  on  high,  we  have 
sixty  or  seventy  different  books,  introducing   us   to   the 
public  history  of  twenty  nations,  and  to  the  minutest  in- 
cidents in  the  biographies  of  a  thousand  men?    Why,  it 
is  that  we  may  be  excited  by  the  interest  of  incident  and 
story;  that  religion  and  impiety  may  be  respectively  pre- 
sented to  us  in   living  and  acting  reality;  and  that  the 
principles  of  God's  government,  and  of  his  dealing  with 
men,  may  come  to  us  in  all  the  vividness   of  actual  fact. 
If  then  we  neglect  to  understand  this  history  as  history, 
and  to  enter  into   all  the  incidents  which  are   detailed, 
we  lose  the  very  benefit  which  the  Spirit  had  in  view  in 
making  the  Bible  such  a  volume  as  it  is.    Without  such 
an  occasional  effort  to  make  the  Scriptures  a  study,  ex- 
amining them  intellectually,  comparing   one   part  with 
another,   and  endeavoring  to  bring  vividly  to  view  the 
scenes  which  they  present  to  our  minds,  it  may  safely 
be  said  that  no  one  can  truly  understand  the  Bible,  or 


254  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    8. 


Reading  practically.  Daily  reading  of  the  Bible. 

enter  into  the  spirit  of  its  descriptions,  its  warnings,  and 
its  appeals. 

But  after  all,  the  great  object  in  studying  the  Bible  is 
not  merely  to  understand  it.  The  revelation  which  God 
has  made,  is  a  message  sent,  not  to  the  intellect,  but  to 
the  consciences  and  hearts  of  men  ;  and  unless  it  reaches 
the  conscience  and  the  heart,  it  entirely  fails  of  accom- 
plishing its  object.  We  ouglit  indeed  to  gain  an  intel- 
lectual knowledge  of  it,  but  that  is  only  to  be  considered 
as  a  means  to  enable  us  the  more  fully  to  apply  to  our 
own  characters  and  conduct  the  practical  lessons  which 
it  teaches. 

The  Sabbath  seems,  for  most  persons,  the  most  proper 
time  for  tlie  systematic  study  of  the  Scriptures,  but  a  por- 
tion of  it  should  be  read  practically  every  day.  This 
part  of  my  subject  does  not  need  »o  full  an  illustration 
as  the  other,  for  the  great  difficulty  in  regard  to  reading 
the  Scriptures  practically,  is  a  want  of  disposition  to  do 
it.  They  who  really  wish  to  learn  their  duty  and  over- 
come their  temptations,  who  desire  that  the  sins  of  their 
hearts  and  lives  should  be  brought  to  their  view  by  the 
word  of  God,  will  easily  make  for  themselves  an  applica- 
tion of  the  truths  which  tlie  Bible  contains. 

Will  not  all  my  readers  do  this,  faithfully  and  perse- 
veringly?  Resolve  to  bring  a  short  portion  of  the  pre- 
ceptive or  devotional  parts  of  the  Scriptures  home  to  your 
heart  every  day  ;  and  let  your  object  be,  in  this  daily 
reading  of  the  Bible,  not  so  much  to  extend  your  intel- 
lectual  vieio  oii\\e  field  opened  to  you  in  its  pages,  as  to 
increase  its  moral  and  spiritual  influence  upon  your  heart 
and  conduct.  Be  not  so  careful,  then,  to  read  this  exact 
quantity,  or  that ;  but  to  bring  home  some  portion  really 
and  fully  to  the  heart  and  to  the  conscience — to  do  it  so 
forcibly,  that  the  influence  of  those  few  verses  read  and 
pondered  in  the  morning,  will  go  with  you  through  the  day. 

Reading    the  Bible,  is  however  sometimes   practised 


Ch.    8.]  STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  255 

Useless  reading.  The  Apprentice. 

with  a  very  dilEferent  spirit  from  this.  A  boy,  for  exam- 
ple, whose  parent  or  whose  Sabbath  School  teacher  has 
convinced  him  that  he  ought  to  read  the  Bible  daily, 
takes  his  book  and  sits  down  by  the  fire,  and  reads  away, 
rapidly  and  thoughtlessly,  the  portion  which  comes  in 
course.  He  looks  up  occasionally,  to  observe  the  sports 
of  his  brothers  and  sisters,  or  to  join  in  their  conversa- 
tion, and  then  returns  again  to  the  verse  he  left.  In  fif- 
teen minutes  he  rises  from  his  seat,  shuts  his  book,  and 
pushes  it  into  its  place  upon  the  shelf,  saying,  "  There — I 
have  read  my  chapter ;" — and  this  is  the  last  he  knows 
or  thinks  of  the  Bible  during  the  day. 

Consider  now  another  case.  In  an  unfurnished  and 
almost  an  unfinished  little  room,  in  some  crowded  alley 
of  a  populous  city,  )^ou  may  see  a  lad,  who  has  just- arisen 
from  his  humble  bed,  and  is  ready  to  go  forth  to  his  daily 
duties.  He  is  a  young  apprentice — and  must  almost  im- 
mediately go  forth  to  kindle  his  morning  fire,  and  to  pre- 
pare his  place  of  business  for  the  labors  of  the  day.  He 
first,  however,  takes  his  little  testament  from  his  chest — 
and  breathes,  while  he  opens  it,  a  silent  prayer  that  God 
will  fix  the  lesson  that  he  is  about  to  read,  upon  his  con- 
science and  his  heart.  "  Holy  Spirit  !"  whispers  he,  "  let 
me  apply  the  instructions  of  this  book  to  myself,  and  let 
me  be  governed  by  it  to-day  ;  so  that  I  may  perform  faith- 
fully all  my  duties  to  myself,  to  my  companions,  to  my 
master,  and  to  Thee."  He  opens  the  book,  and  reads 
perhaps  as  follows  : — "  Be  kindly  afiectioned  one  to 
another,  with  brotherly  love,  with  honor  preferring  one 
another."  He  pauses — his  faithful  self-applying  thoughts 
run  through  the  scenes  through  which  he  is  that  day  to 
pass,  and  he  considers  in  what  cases  this  verse  ought  to 
influence  him.  '  Be  kindly  affectioned .''  I  must  treat  my 
brothers  and  sisters,  and  all  my  companions,  kindly  to- 
day. I  must  try  to  save  them  trouble,  and  to  promote 
their  happiness.    '  In  honor  preferring  one  another,'  As 


256  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  8 

Reading  two  verses  aright. 

he  sees  these  words,  he  sighs  to  reflect  how  many  times 
he  has  been  jealous  of  his  fellow-apprentices  on  account 
of  marks  of  trust  and  favor  shown  to  them,  or  envious 
of  the  somewhat  superior  privileges  enjoyed  by  those 
older  than  himself,  and  he  prays  that  God  will  forgive 
him,  and  make  him  humble  and  kind-hearted  in  future, 
to  all  around  him. 

"  Not  slothful  in  business  ;  fervent  in  spirit ;  serving 
the  Lord.^^  He  stops  to  consider  whether  he  is  habitually- 
industrious,  improving  all  his  time  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  be  of  the  greatest  advantage  to  his  master  ; — whe- 
ther he  is  fervent  in  spirit,  i.  e.  cordially  devoted  to 
God's  service,  and  full  of  benevolent  desires  for  the  hap- 
piness of  all ; — whether  he  serves  the  Lord  in  what  he 
does,  i.  e.  whether  all  his  duties  are  discharged  from  mo- 
tives of  love  to  his  Maker  and  Preserver.  While  he  thus 
muses,  the  fire  burns.  He  shuts  his  book,  and  asks  God  to 
protect  him,  as  he  now  must  go  out  into  the  labors  and 
temptations  of  the  day.  God  does  bless  and  protect  him. 
He  has  read  indeed,  but  two  verses ;  but  these  verses 
he  carries  in  his  heart,  and  they  serve  as  a  memorial  of 
kindness  and  love  to  man,  and  fidelity  toward  God, 
which  accompanies  him  wherever  he  goes,  and  keeps  him 
safe  and  happy.  The  Bible  is  thus  a  light  to  his  feet  and 
a  lamp  to  his  paths.  Which,  now,  of  these,  do  you 
think,  reads  the  Bible  aright? 

Let  no  child  who  reads  this  understand  me  to  say 
that  I  consider  two  verses  enough  of  the  Bible  to  read 
each  day.  What  I  mean  by  this  case  is,  that  so  much 
more  depends  upon  the  spirit  and  manner  with  which 
the  Bible  is  read,  than  the  quantity — that  a  very  small 
portion,  properly  read,  may  be  far  more  useful  than  a 
much  larger  quantity  hurried  over  in  a  careless  and 
thoughtless  manner.  Nor  precise  rules  can  be  given  in 
regard  to  quantity ;  it  must  vary  with  circumstances,  and 
of  these  the  individual  must,  in  most  cases,  be  the  judge. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE    SABBATH. 


"  Remember  the  Sabbath  day  to  keep  it  holy." 

My  readers  are  undoubtedly  generally  aware  that  the 
present  obligation  to  keep  the  Sabbath  has  been,  by- 
some  persons,  denied,  on  the  ground  that  keeping  one 
day  in  seven  holy  is  a  sort  of  ceremony,  and  that  it  was 
only  intended  to  be  required  of  the  Jewish  nation.  I  do 
not  intend,  in  this  chapter,  to  enter  at  all  into  a  discus- 
sion of  that  subject.  Most,  if  not  all  of  those  who  will 
read  this  book,  are  undoubtedly  satisfied  in  regard  to  it. 
i  will,  however,  simply  state  the  facts,  on  the  ground  of 
which  the  present  binding  authority  of  the  Lord's  day  is 
generally  admitted  by  Christians. 

As  soon  as  God  had  finished  the  creation,  it  is  stated 
that  he  rested  on  the  seventh  day  and  sanctified  it ;  that 
is,  he  set  it  apart  for  a  sacred  use.  The  time  and  the  cir- 
cumstances under  which  this  was  done,  sufficiently  indi- 
cate that  it  was  intended  to  apply  to  the  whole  race,  and 
to  extend  through  all  time.  A  ceremony  solemnly  esta- 
blished at  the  foundation  of  an  empire  would  be  univer- 
sally considered  as  designed  to  extend  as  far  and  conti- 
nue as  long  as  the  empire  itself  should  extend  and  con- 
tinue, unless  it  should  be  distinctly  repealed.  And  so 
with  a  duty  established  at  the  foundation  of  a  world. 

Many  years  afterward  the  Creator  gave  a  very  distinct 
code  of  laws  to  his  people,  the  Jews.  These  laws  were 
of  two  kinds,  ceremonial  and  moral.  It  was  the  design 
of  the  former  to  be  binding  only  upon  the  Jewish  nation, 
the  latter  are  of  permanent  and  universal  authority. 

The  ceremonial  laws  were  merely  repeated  to  Moses, 


258  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   9 

Change  from  Saturday  to  Sunday. 

and  he  made  a  record  of  them  ;  you  will  find  ihem  in  near- 
ly all  the  chapters  of  Leviticus  and  Deuteronomy.  All 
the  regulations  relating  to  sacrifices  are  of  this  charac- 
ter. The  moral  laws  were,  however,  given  in  the  most 
solemn  manner  from  Mount  Sinai.  They  are  the  ten 
commandments,  and  they  were  written,  by  the  direct 
power  of  God  himself,  upon  tablets  of  stone,  which  were 
carefully  preserved. 

Now,  as  if  to  remove  all  possible  ground  of  doubt  in 
regard  to  his  design,  the  observance  of  the  Sabbath  was 
made  the  subject  of  one  of  these  ten  commandments  ;  and 
It  has  been  observed  from  that  day  to  thi«,  by  a  vast  ma- 
jority of  all  those  who  have  wished  to  obey  their  Maker's 
commands. 

These  facts  are  abundantly  sufficient  to  convince  those 
who  are  willing  to  keep  the  Sabbath,  that  God  intended 
that  all  men  sliould  keep  it.  They  who  are  not  convinc- 
ed, reveal  by  their  doubts  their  unwillingness  to  obey. 
I  would  advise,  therefore,  any  one  who  has  doubts  about 
the  divine  authority  of  the  Sabbath,  not  to  spend  his  time  in 
looking  for  the  arguments  for  and  against  in  this  contro- 
versy, but  to  come  at  once  to  his  heart.  Ask  yourself 
this  question  ;  "  Do  I  fully  understand  what  it  is  to  re- 
member the  Sabbath  day  and  keep  it  holy,  and  am  I  cor- 
dially and  sincerely  willing  to  do  it  ?"  In  the  affirmative 
answer  to  this  question  you  will  find  the  solution  to  all 
your  doubts. 

The  Sabbath  was  observed,  from  its  establishment  down 
to  the  coming  of  Christ,  on  the  seventh  day  of  the  week, 
that  is  our  Saturday.  Our  Savior  rose  from  the  dead  on 
the  Hay  after  tlie  Sabbath,  and  we  find,  soon  after  his  re- 
surrection, that  Christians  observed  that  day  instead  of 
the  former  one,  as  sacred  time.  There  is  no  direct  com- 
mand to  do  thic,  and  no  indication  that  there  was  any  con- 
troversy about  it  at  the  time.  They  all  at  once  simulta- 
neously change.     They  keep  one  day  in  seven  as  before, 


Ch,  9.]  THE    SABBATH.  269 

Beginning  of  tbe  Sabbath. 

but  it  is  a  different  day.  We  infer  that  they  had  some 
authority  for  so  doing,  though  it  is  not  at  all  necessary 
that  that  authority  should  be  specified.  It  is  the  custom 
in  most  of  the  schools  in  New  England  to  consider  the 
afternoon  of  Saturday  a  half-holiday.  Now,  suppose  a 
boy  should  leave  this  country  to  go  on  a  foreign  voyage, 
and  after  being  absent  many  months,  should  return,  and 
find,  when  Saturday  afternoon  comes,  that  all  the  boys  in 
his  native  town  go  to  school  as  usual,  but  that  on  Monday 
afternoon  the  schools  are  all  suspended.  He  sees  that 
this  is  the  universal  customi,  and  it  continues  so  perma- 
nently. Now  it  is  not,  under  these  circumstances,  at  all 
necessary  that  the  original  vote  of  the  school  committee 
by  which  the  change  was  made  should  come  before  him. 
The  universality  of  the  practice  is  the  best  of  evidence 
in  such  a  case.  No  boy  would  wish  for  more.  It  is  just 
so  with  the  evidence  we  have  that  the  Sabbath  was  chang- 
ed. Suddenly  all  Christians  changed  their  practice; 
they  changed  together,  and  without  any  evidence  of  a 
controversy,  and  the  new  arrangement  has  been  adopted 
from  that  day  to  this. 

But  yet  all  persons  are  not  quite  satisfied  about  it,  and 
there  are  various  other  questions  connected  with  the  time 
of  the  Sabbath,  which  have  occasioned  in  the  minds  of 
many  Christians  serious  doubt  and  perplexities.  Some 
imagine  that  they  ought  to  have  more  evidence  of  the 
change  from  the  seventh  to  the  first  day  of  the  week  ; 
they  think  too,  that  the  Sabbath  is  intended  to  be  com- 
memorative of  God's  rest  after  finishing  the  creation,  and 
that  this  object  is  lost  by  altering  the  day  ;  and  some  lose 
themselves  in  endless  arguments  on  the  question  whether 
sunset,  midnight,  or  morning  marks  tlie  beginning  of  the 
sacred  day.  The  difference  of  views  on  this  subject  pro- 
duces some  difference  of  practice.  There  are  denomina- 
tions of  Christians  who  prefer  to  keep  Saturday  as  holy 
time,  and  not  Sunday,  regarding  the  former  as  the  se  - 


260  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  9. 

Idle  controversies. 

venth  day  meant  by  the  commandment.  There  is  a  differ- 
ence of  practice,  too,  in  regard  to  the  time  of  commenc- 
ing the  holy  day.  In  some  portions  of  our  land  the  Sab- 
bath is  understood  to  begin  on  the  evening  of  Saturday, 
so  that  when  the  sun  goes  down  on  Sunday  evening,  they 
return  to  their  usual  duties  and  cares.  In  other  places, 
midnight  is  considered  as  the  limit  which  marks  the  be- 
ginning and  the  end  of  sacred  time. 

The  actual  inconvenience  arising  from  this  diversity  is 
comparatively  slight.  The  great  evil  which  these  diffe- 
rences of  opinion  produce,  is  the  interminable  disputes 
which  arise  from  them.  Perhaps  some  of  my  readers, 
when  they  saw  the  subject  of  the  Sabbath  announced,  may 
have  been  curious  to  know  which  side  I  was  going  to 
take  in  regard  to  some  of  these  points  ;  for  example,  on 
the  question  whether  it  is  proper  to  commence  holy  time 
on  Saturday  evening,  or  on  Sabbath  morning.  Now,  in 
fact,  I  am  going  to  take  both  sides.  I  am  going  to  try  to 
convince  you  that  it  is  entirel]^'  immaterial  which  is  adopt- 
ed, and  that  the  whole  subject  is  completely  unworthy  of 
being  made  a  matter  of  controversy  among  Christian 
brethren. 

When  God  gives  us  a  command,  I  am  aware  that  we 
must  obey  it  exactly.  But  a  command  is  obeyed  exactly, 
if  it  is  obeyed  in  all  the  particulars  expressed  in  the 
words  of  it.  I  think  the  following  principle  may  be  laid 
down  as  fundamental  in  regard  to  all  laws  partaking  of 
a  ceremonial  character,  human  and  divine.  So  far  as 
the  ceremonial  part  is  essential,  it  will  he  distinctly  de- 
scribed in  the  command.  The  fourth  command  partakes 
of  the  ceremonial  character.  It  is  for  the  observance  of 
a  particular  day.  It  specifies  what  day,  but  it  does  not 
specify  at  what  hour  it  is  to  begin,  and  therefore  we  are 
left  at  liberty  to  begin  it  so  as  to  correspond  with  any 
common  mode  of  computing  time. 

But  to  illustrate  the  above  mentioned  principle,  (for  it 


Ch.  9.]  THE    SABBATH.  261 

A  father's  command  to  his  boys. 


seems  to  me  that  if  it  were  cordially  and  fully  admitted, 
it  would  save  a  vast  number  of  disputes  on  many  other 
subjects,)  let  us  suppose  that  a  father,  about  to  be  absent 
from  his  home,  leaves  his  two  boys  with  the  command 
that  they  should  work,  every  day,  a  little  while  in  the 
garden.  Now,  in  such  a  case  as  this,  the  boys  ought  not 
to  consider  themselves  as  limited  to  any  particular  time 
for  doing  it.  They  must  consider  their  father's  design 
in  the  command,  and  act  in  such  a  manner  as  to  comply 
with  the  spirit  of  it ;  but  they  may  do  as  they  please 
about  the  time  of  beginning.  They  may  work  in  the 
morning,  or  in  the  evening,  or  at  midday,  according  to 
their  own  convenience. 

Suppose,  however,  he  had  been  a  little  more  definite, 
and  had  said,  "  I  wish  you,  my  boys,  while  I  am  absent, 
to  work  a  few  hours  every  forenoon  in  the  garden." 
This  would  have  been  a  little  more  definite.  And  just 
so  far  as  it  is  definite  in  regard  to  the  time,  just  so  far  it 
would  be  binding  in  that  respect.  They  would  not  now 
be  at  liberty  to  choose  wliether  they  would  work  forenoon 
or  afternoon,  but  still  they  would  be  at  liberty  in  regard 
to  the  precise  time  of  beginning.  If  one  of  the  boys 
should  attempt  to  prove  that  they  ought  to  begin  exactly 
at  half  past  eight,  because  the  father  had  usually  begun 
at  that  hour,  or  because  the  neighbors  did,  the  other 
might  reply,  that  the  time  of  beginning  was  not  specified 
in  the  command,  and  they  might,  if  they  chose,  begin  at 
an  earlier  or  later  hour,  if  they  only  honestly  fulfilled 
the  command  by  working  faithfully  as  much  as  they  sup- 
posed their  father  meant  by  the  expression,  "  a  few 
liours.^^ 

Let  us,  however,  make  the  command  more  definite 
still.  Imagine  the  father  to  have  said,  "  I  wish  you,  my 
sons,  to  spend  from,  9  to  12  o'clock,  every  day,  in  the 
garden,  working  for  me."  This  leaves  them  much  less 
discretionary  power.     The  time  for  beginning  and  end- 


262  yoi;ng  christian.  [Ch.  9i 

The  question  about  the  clock  and  the  dial. 

ing  is  distinctly"  specified,  and  the  command  is  binding, 
in  regard  to  these  points  of  form  and  manner,  just  so  far 
as  they  are  distinctly  specified.  Still  there  is  room  for  a 
dispute.  The  spirit  which  makes  so  much  of  a  contro- 
versy on  the  question  whether  holy  time  begins  at  sun- 
down or  at  midnight,  would  have  easily  made  a  contro- 
versy here.  For  we  will  suppose  that  there  had  been  a 
clock  in  the  hall  of  the  house,  and  a  dial  in  the  garden. 
All  my  readers  are  aware,  I  presume,  that  a  clock,  if  it  is 
a  good  one,  keeps  regular,  equal  time  ;  but  that  there  is 
some  irregularity  in  the  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies, 
which  prevents  the  dial  from  always  corresponding  with 
it  exactly.  Sometimes  the  dial,  which  marks  apparent 
time,  that  is,  what  appears  to  be  the  time  by  the  sun,  is 
before,  and  sometimes  behind  the  clocks  ;  for  they  mark 
the  real,  or  true  time,  as  it  is  called.  Now,  how  easily 
might  these  boys  get  into  a  dispute  on  the  question 
whether  their  father  meant  tliem  to  keep  true  or  ap- 
parent time,  that  is,  whether  he  meant  them  to  begin 
by  the  clock  or  by  the  dial  !  sometimes  the  difference  is 
fifteen  minutes.  They  might  say  that  they  must  obey 
their  father's  command  exactly,  and  each  might  under- 
take to  show,  from  arguments  drawn  from  the  nature  of 
time,  which  perhaps  neither  of  them  understood,  or  from 
the  father's  practice,  or  the  practice  of  other  workmen 
in  the  vicinity,  that  one  method  of  computation  or  the 
other  was  the  proper  one.  How  unwise  would  this  be  ! 
The  proper  ground  unquestionably  for  boys  in  such  a 
case  to  take  would  be,  "  It  is  no  matter  which  mode  of 
reckoning  we  adopt;  it  was  not  father's  object  to  have 
us  begin  at  any  precise  moment."  "  If  you  prefer  the 
clock,"  one  might  say,  "  I  have  no  objection  to  it.  I 
think  we  have  a  right  to  take  which  we  please,  for  father 
did  not  specify  any  thing  in  regard  to  it;  and  if  he  had 
had  any  preference,  he  would  have  stated  it." 

Just  so  in  regard  to  the  Sabbath.     God  says  in  sub- 


Ch.  9.]  THE    SABBATri.  263 

Universal  principle.  Two  doves. 

Stance,  "  Keep  holy  one  day  in  seven."  There  is  no 
minute  specification  in  regard  to  the  moment  of  com- 
mencing ;  we  are  at  liberty  therefore  to  commence  ac- 
cording to  any  established  and  common  method  of  com- 
puting time. 

May  not  then  the  principle  stated  above  be  considered 
as  universal,  in  regard  to  obedience  to  all  laws  of  a  cere- 
monial nature  ?  So  far  as  the  form  and  manner  are 
deemed  essential,  they  are  always  distinctly  expressed  in 
the  law.  Look  at  the  laws  in  these  States  for  the  so- 
lemnization of  marriages  :  all  that  is  essen-tial  is  dis- 
tinctly expressed.  So  with  the  laws  in  regard  to  the 
transfer  of  property  :  every  form  that  is  intended  to  be 
required  is  detailed  in  the  statute.  So  with  the  purely 
ceremonial  laws  of  the  Jews.  If  a  command  required 
the  sacrifice  of  two  doves,  the  Jew  would  plainly  not 
feel  at  liberty  to  bring  one  or  three,  nor  to  offer,  instead 
of  the  bird  prescribed,  vultures  or  sparrows.  But  he 
just  as  plainly  would  be  at  liberty  to  offer  doves  of  any 
color ;  he  might  choose  black  or  white,  or  any  other 
hue  :  and  if  his  neighbor  should  say  to  him,  "Your  doves 
are  not  of  the  right  kind  ;  nobody  offers  such  doves  as 
those  ;"  his  proper  reply  would  be,  "  I  obey  the  com- 
mand. The  color  is  not  specified."  So  with  Christians 
in  keeping  the  Sabbath.  It  is  not  essential  whether  you 
begin  at  sundown  or  at  midnight ;  if  you  keep  the  Sab- 
bath faithfully  and  regularly  according  to  one  method  or 
the  other,  you  obey  the  command;  the  moment  for  be« 
ginning  is  not  specified. 

It  seems  to  me  that  any  person  who  endeavors  to  ob- 
tain a  philosophical  idea  of  the  nature  of  our  mode  of 
computing  time  by  days,  must  see  the  impossibility  of 
marking  any  precise  limit  for  the  commencement  and 
close  of  sacred  time.  Nothing  is  so  indefinite,  if  we  take 
an  enlarged  and  philosophical  view  of  the  subject,  as  the 
Jiirst  day.     Astronomers  commence  it  at  twelve  o'clock 


264  YOUNG     CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  9. 

A  day  of  23^  hours.  A  day  at  the  pole.  A  day  lost. 

at  noon.  Some  nations  begin  it  at  midnight.  On  shore 
it  is  reckoned  as  commencing  at  one  hour,  and  at  sea,  as 
at  another.  The  day,  too,  begins  at  a  difTerent  time  in 
every  different  place,  so  that  a  ship  at  sea,  beginning  a 
day  in  one  place  and  ending  it  in  another,  sometimes 
will  have  23~  and  sometimes  24^  hours  in  her  day,  and 
no  clock  or  time-piece  whatever  can  keep  her  time. 
An  officer  of  the  ship  is  obliged  to  determine  the  begin- 
ning of  their  day  every  noon  by  astronomical  observa- 
tion. A  sea  captain  can  often  make  a  difference  of  an 
hour  in  the  length  of  his  day,  by  the  direction  in  which 
he  steers  his  ship ;  because  a  day  begins  and  ends  in  no 
two  places,  cast  and  west  of  each  otlier,  at  the  same  time. 
At  Jerusalem  they  are  six  hours  in  advance  of  us  in  their 
time,  and  at  the  Sandwich  Islands  six  hours  behind.  In 
consequence  of  this,  it  is  evident  that  the  ship,  changing 
her  longitude,  must  every  day  change  her  reckoning. 
These  sources  of  difficulty  in  marking  out  the  limits  of  a 
day,  increase  as  we  go  toward  the  pole.  A  ship  within 
fifty  miles  of  it,  might  sail  round  on  a  parallel  of  lati- 
tude, and  keep  it  one  continual  noon  or  midnight  to  her 
all  the  year  ;  only  noon  and  midnight  would  be  there  al- 
most the  same.  At  the  pole  itself  all  distinction  between 
day  and  night  entirely  and  utterly  ceases ;  summer  and 
winter  are  the  only  change.  Habitable  regions  do  not 
indeed  extend  to  the  pole,  but  they  extend  far  beyond 
any  practical  distinction  between  noon  and  midnight,  or 
evening  and  morning. 

The  difference  between  the  times  of  commencing  and 
ending  days  in  different  parts  of  the  earth  is  so  great, 
that  a  ship  sailing  round  the  globe,  loses  a  whole  day  in 
her  reckoning,  or  gains  a  whole  day,  according  to  the 
direction  in  which  she  sails.  If  she  sets  out  from  Bos- 
ton, and  passes  round  Cape  Horn,  and  across  the  Pacific 
Ocean,  to  China,  thence  through  the  Indian  and  Atlantic 
Oceans  home,  she  will  find,  on  her  arrival,  that  it  is  Tues- 


Ch.  9.]  THE    SABBATH.  265 

No  sunset  for  months/  Sabbath  in  Greenland. 

day  with  her  crew,  when  it  is  Wednesday  on  shore.  Each 
of  her  days  will  have  been  a  little  longer  than  a  day  is 
in  any  fixed  place,  and  of  course  she  will  have  had  fewer 
of  them.  So  that  if  the  passengers  were  Christians,  and 
have  endeavored  to  keep  the  Sabbath,  they  will  not  and 
cannot  have  corresponded  with  any  Christian  nation 
whatever  in  the  times  of  their  observance  of  it.  I  sup- 
pose my  readers  will  believe  these  facts  on  my  testimony  ; 
but  they  will  have  a  far  more  vivid  idea  of  the  truth  in 
this  case,  if  they  will  ask  some  sea  captain,  who  has  sail- 
ed round  or  half  round  the  globe,  if  it  is  not  so,  and  con- 
verse with  him  on  some  of  the  interesting  questions  and 
difficulties  w^hich  arise  from  this  peculiarity  in  the  nature 
of  the  computation  of  time. 

But  beside  this  difficulty  arising  from  the  variation  in 
the  time  at  different  longitudes,  there  are  also  other 
causes  which  will  produce  greater  difficulty  still  in 
the  way  of  marking  out  a  precise  moment  at  which  the 
boundary  between  sacred  and  common  time  is  to  be 
marked.  As  we  go  north  or  south  from  the  equator,  the 
lengths  of  the  days  increase  in  the  summer  season,  until 
at  last,  as  I  have  already  intimated,  in  a  certain  latitude 
the  sun  ceases  altogether  to  set  for  a  period  equal  to  ma- 
ny weeks  of  our  reckoning.  Now,  what  will  a  man  who 
supposes  that  our  ;^Iaker  meant  to  command  all  mankind 
to  keep  the  Sabbath  exactly  from  sunset  to  sunset,  or 
from  midnight  to  midnight — what  will  such  a  man  say 
to  a  Christian  in  Greenland,  where  the  sun  does  not  set 
for  months  together? 

Is  the  moral  law  limited  to  latitude  in  its  application, 
or  did  the  great  Framer  of  it  not  know,  or  did  he  forget 
that  the  motions  of  the  sun  which  he  himself  ordained, 
would  give  to  some  of  the  people  to  whom  the  command 
was  addressed,  no  sunset  or  midnight  for  months  at  a 
time?  No;  it  is  absurd  to  press  a  written  command  to 
any  greater  strictness,  in  regard  to  the  form  and  manner 

13 


-266 

YOUNG 

CURI: 

3TlA5r. 

[Ch. 

a 

Change 

to  the  first  day. 

No 

change  in 

the  command' 

of  its  observance,  than  the  letter  expresses.  God  says  to 
us  simply,  "  Keep  holy  one  day  in  seven."  We  may 
reckon  that  day  in  any  of  the  common  methods  of  com- 
puting time.  If  it  was  customary  in  old  times  to  reckon 
the  day  from  sundown  to  sundown,  the  servants  of  God 
would  probably  reckon  their  Sabbaths  so  too.  If  it  is  cus- 
tomary now  to  reckon  from  midnight  to  midnight,  we 
may  reckon  our  Sabbath  so.  We  must  keep  the  command 
in  its  spirit,  but  we  need  not  press  the  form  any  farther 
than  the  letter  of  the  command  itself  presses  it. 

The  same  principles  apply  to  the  chaiige  from  the 
seventli  day  to  the  first.  That  is  not  an  alteration  of  the 
command,  but  only  of  practice  under  the  command,  in  a 
point  which  the  letter  of  the  law  does  not  fix.  Christians 
labor  six  days  and  rest  the  seventh  now.  By  our  artificial 
nomenclature  we  call  it  i\\Q  first ;  but  that  does  not  alter 
the  real  nature  of  tlic  command,  which  is  simply,  that  af- 
ter every  six  days  of  labor  there  shall  be  regularly  one  cf 
rest.  This  requirement  has  never  been  changed  or 
touched  ;  it  stands  among  the  ten  commands,  unaltered 
and  unalterable,  like  all  the  rest.  The, practice,  in  a  point 
not  fixed  by  the  phraseology  of  the  command,  is  indeed 
altered  ;  but  that  no  more  afiects  obedience  to  the  law 
than  a  change  from  parchment  to  paper,  in  the  drawing 
up  of  a  legal  instrument,  would  violate  a  law  which  did 
not  prescribe  the  material.  Who  would  think  of  saying 
in  such  a  case,  "  The  law  has  been  altered  ; — when  the 
statute  was  enacted,  the  universal  practice  was  to  write 
upon  parchment,  and  now  men  universally  use  paper  ; — 
we  can  find  no  authority  for  tlie  change,  and  consequent- 
ly the  law  is  broken?"  The  law  would  not  be  broken 
unless  it  unequivocally  mentioned  parchment  in  contra- 
distinction from  all  ather  materials.  The  day  then  in 
present  use  is  to  be  continued  as  the  holy  time  until  it 
is  changed  by  proper  authority,  and  the  change  made 
known  in  a  proper  manner.     But  that  authority  and  that 


Ch.  9.]  THE    SABBATH.  267 

The  creation. 

manner  need  not  be  by  any  means  so  formal  as  was  the 
original  command,  because  it  does  not  alter  that  com- 
mand at  all ;  it  only  alters  practice  arising  under  the 
command,  and  that  in  a  point  which  the  law  itself  does 
not  specify. 

Some  one  may  perhaps,  however,  say  that  the  Sab- 
bath was  in  commemoration  of  the  rest  of  Jehovah  after 
the  creation,  and  that  this  object  is  lost  by  the  change. 
But  a  moment's  reflection  will  remove  this  difliculty. 
After  seven  weeks  had  passed,  the  Sabbath  would  come 
on  the  49th, day  after  the  creation.  Now  suppose  it  had 
then  been  changed,  by  being  moved  one  day  forward,  so 
as  to  come  on  the  50th;  who  can  give  any  good  reason 
why  the  50th  day  may  not  as  well  be  celebrated  in  com- 
memoration of  the  creation  as  the  49th  ?  Besides,  if  the 
precise  time  of  God's  resting  is  to  be  reckoned  at  all,  it  is 
to  be  reckoned  according  to  the  culmination  of  the  sun 
at  Eden,  and  the  day  there  is  many  hours  in  advance  of 
us  here  ;  so  that  strict  precise  accuracy,  in  regard  to  hours 
and  minutes,  is,  in  every  view  of  the  case,  entirely  out  of 
the  question  ;  and  the  fact  that  the  command  does  not 
attempt  to  secure  it,  gives  evidence  that  it  was  intended 
for  general  circulation  among  mankind.  To  a  person 
standing  still  in  one  place,  and  looking  no  farther  than 
to  his  own  limited  horizon,  the  word  day  seems  definite 
enough ;  but  when  a  voice  from  Mount  Sinai  speaks  to 
the  whole  world,  commanding  all  men,  at  sea  and  on 
land,  in  Arctic  regions  and  under  an  equinoctial  sun, 
under  every  meridian  and  at  every  parallel,  to  remember 
one  day  in  seven  and  keep  it  holy,  there  must  be  great 
diversity  in  the  form  and  moment  of  obedience.  "We  can- 
not, looking  over  the  whole  field,  find  a*  precise  and  uni- 
versal limit.  The  command,  if  we  consider  it  as  address- 
ed to  the  worlds  is  entirely  indefinite  in  regard  to  the 
precise  period  of  the  commencement  and  close  of  sacred 
time;  but  the  great  principle  of  it  is  clear: — Keep  one 


368  YOUNG     CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  9. 

Principle  important.  Non-essentials- 

day  in  seven,  according  to  some  common  mode  of  compu- 
tation, holy  to  the  Lord. 

I  should  not  have  spent  so  much  time  in  endeavoring 
to  prove  that  minute  accuracy  in  regard  to  the  form  and 
manner  of  obeying  this  command  are  unattainable,  were 
it  not  that  this  discussion  involves  a  principle  vfhich.  ap- 
plies to  many  other  cases ;  so  that  if  you  are  induced  to 
see  its  reasonableness  and  to  admit  its  force  fully  and 
cordially  in  this  case,  you  will  be  saved  a  great  deal  of 
useless  perplexity  about  the  minutia)  of  form  in  a  great 
many  other  cases.  Remember  then  this  principle,  that 
commands  are  to  be  obeyed  in  their  spirit^  except  where 
the  precise  form  is  a  matter  of  positive  and  distinct  spe- 
cification. 

I  have  one  or  two  practical  remarks  to  make  in  refe- 
rence to  this  part  of  my  subject. 

1.  In  respect  to  those  points  of  duty  on  which  the 
Scriptures  give  no  direct  instructions,  you  will  do  well 
to  conform  to  the  customs  of  Christians  around  you.  If 
you  live  in  a  community  where  the  Sabbath  is  generally 
commenced  on  Saturday  evening,  begin  yours  at  that 
time  :  conform  not  only  in  this,  but  in  all  other  unimport- 
ant points  ;  kneel,  or  stand,  or  sit  at  prayers,  as  other 
people  do  around  you.  I  have  known  persons  so  con- 
trolled by  the  determination  to  have  their  own  way  in 
little  things,  and  to  consider  all  other  ways  wrong,  that 
they  could  not  sit  at  table  while  a  blessing  was  asked,  as 
is  the  common  custom  in  many  places,  without  being 
very  much  shocked  at  the  imaginary  irreverence.  Some 
men  will  be  pained  if  a  minister  says  loe  in  the  pulpit, 
and  others  will  quarrel  with  him  if  he  says  /;  and  a 
grave  discussion  is  sometimes  carried  on,  on  such  points 
as  these,  in  religious  journals.  One  Christian  cannot  en- 
dure a  written  prayer;  another  cannot  bear  an  extempore 
one.    A  is  troubled  if  there  is  an  organ  in  the  church, 


Ch.  9.]  THE    SABBATH.  269 

Liability  to  evasion.  Human  and  divine  laws. 

and  B  thinks  that  music  at  church  is  notliing  without  one. 
C  will  almost  leave  the  meeting-house  if  he  should  sec 
the  minister  come  in  wearing  a  silk  gown;  and  J)  would 
be  equally  shocked  at  seeing  him  in  k  cowl.  Now,  all 
this  is  wrong.  These  points  are  not  determined  by  any 
express  command  in  the  Bible,  and  consequently  they 
are  left  to  the  varying  taste  and  convenience  of  mankind. 
Every  person  may  perhaps  have  a  slight  preference,  but 
this  preference  he  ought  at  all  times  to  be  willing  to  give 
up,  in  consideration  of  the  wishes  and  feeling  of  his 
Christian  brother.  He  who  intends  to  do  good  in  this 
world,  must  go  about  among  mankind  with  a  spirit  which 
will  lead  him  to  conform,  easily  and  pleasantly,  with  the 
cu£/toms  of  men,  except  in  those  cases  where  the  letter 
or  the  spirit  of  the  Bible  forbids. 

2.  This  discussion  reminds  me  of  one  great  and  strik- 
ing characteristic  of  many,  if  not  all,  of  God's  commands. 
They  are  peculiarly  liable  to  evasion.  This  is  one  of 
their  excellencies,  as  a  part  of  a  system  of  moral  disci- 
pline. The  object  of  human  laws  is  to  prevent  injury 
from  crime — not  to  improve  and  perfect  the  character. 
The  object  of  divine  laws  is  to  discipline  moral  beings^ 
to  train  them  up  to  moral  strength,  and  make  them  sin- 
cere and  faithful  servants  of  their  Master  in  heaven. 
This  gives  rise  to  a  great  difference  in  the  form  of  the 
commands  themselves.  How  much  pains  do  men  take, 
when  making  laws,  to  cut  off  every  possible  chance  of 
escape,  by  specifying  with  minute  accuracy  all  the  details 
of  transgression !  Hence  the  enactments  of  men  are  very 
voluminous.  The  laws  of  a  state  on  the  subject  of  theft 
will  fill  a  volume  ;  but  God  disposes  of  the  whole  sub- 
ject in  four  words,  "  Thou  shalt  not  steal."  The 
HUMAN  lawgiver  studies  to  cut  off,  by  the  fullness  and 
legal  accuracy  of  his  language,  every  opportunity  for 
quibbling  or  evasion  ;  but  if  any  man  wishes  to  escape 
from  the  laws  of  God  by  quibbling  and  evasion,  he  may — 


270  YOUNG   CHRISTIAN.  [Ch     9. 

Spirit  of  the  law. 

the  door  is  wide  open  :  and  that  is  what  gives  the  law  of 
God  its  admirable  adaptedness  to  be  the  means  of  moral 
discipline  to  the  human  soul. 

The  reason  why  it  produces  this  effect  is  this  :  The 
more  strict  and  minute  are  the  details  of  a  command,  the 
less  room  is  there  for  the  exercise  of  fidelity  and  volun- 
tary obedience.  God  might,  in  regard  to  the  Sabbath  for 
example,  have  been  so  precise  and  specific  in  his  com- 
mand, that  the  whole  world  might  know  exactly  the 
moment  when  sacred  time  is  to  begin,  and  exactly  the 
manner  in  which  its  hours  are  to  be  spent ;  nay  more, 
he  might  have  so  interrupted  the  course  of  nature,  that 
all  the  business  of  life  must  have  ceased,  and  men  have 
been  compelled  to  rest  on  the  Sabbatli.  But  this  would 
have  been  no  moral  trial ;  it  would  have  afibrded  no 
moral  discipline.  God  docs  not  accordingly  adopt  such 
a  course.  He  expresses  his  command  in  general  and 
simple  language.  They  wlio  wish  to  obey,  can  easily 
ascertain  what  they  ought  to  do  ;  and  they  who  do  not, 
will  easily  find  excuses. 

There  are  some,  and  perhaps  many,  who  make  the 
question  whether  Saturday  or  Sunday  evening  is  to  be 
kept,  an  excuse  for  keeping  neither.  But  those  who  wish 
to  obey  God's  commands  will  keep  one  or  the  other  faith- 
fully ;  and  one  great  design  in  having  uncertainty  in  such 
cases  as  this  is  unquestionably  to  try  us — to  see  who 
does  and  who  does  not  wish  on  vain  pretexts  to  evade 
God's  commands. 

I  proceed  to  consider  the  spirit  and  manner  in  which 
the  Sabbath  should  be  kept. 

The  object  of  the  Sabbath  is  to  interpose  an  effectual 
interruption  to  all  worldly  business,  and  to  promote  as 
highly  as  possible  the  improvement  of  the  character. 
Do  then  these  two  things  :  1st,  suspend  all  worldly  pur- 
suits ;  and  2nd,  spend  the  day  in  such  a  manner  as  will 


Ch.   9.]  THE    SABBATH.  271 

James'  way  of  reading  the  Bible. 

best  promote  your  spiritual  improvement.  The  first 
point  is  easy  ;  I  shall  therefore  pass  it  by,  and  direct  my 
attention  immediately  to  the  last. 

There  are  wise  and  there  are  unwise  ways  of  keeping 
ihe  Sabbath  holy.  James  is  a  boy  who  has  set  his  heart 
upon  reading  the  Bible  through  in  as  short  a  time  as  pos 
sible,  and  he  thinks  there  is  no  way  of  spending  the  Sab- 
bath so  properly  as  by  his  carrying  forward  this  good 
work  with  all  his  strength.  He  carries  his  Bible  to  bed 
with  him  at  night,  and  places  it  under  his  pillow,  that  he 
may  read  as  soon  as  it  is  light  in  the  morning.  You  may 
see  him  at  breakfast-time  counting  up  the  chapters  he 
has  read,  and  calculating  how  long  it  will  take  him  at 
that  rate  to  get  through  a  certain  book.  He  can  hardly 
wait  for  family  prayers  to  be  over,  he  is  so  eager  to  drive 
forward  his  work.  He  reads  a  great  many  chapters  in 
the  course  of  the  day,  and  lies  down  at  night  congratu- 
lating himself  on  his  progress  ;  but  alas  !  he  has  made  no 
progress  in  piety.  Reading  chapters  in  the  Bible,  as  if 
he  was  reading  on  a  wager,  is  not  making  progress  in 
piety.  He  has  not  examined  his  heart  that  day.  He 
has  not  made  resolutions  for  future  duty.  He  has  not 
learned  to  be  a  more  dutiful  son,  a  more  aflectionate 
brother,  or  a  more  humble  and  devoted  Christian.  No,  he 
has  read  twenty  chapters  in  the  Bible  !  He  has  been  mak- 
ing no  new  discoveries  of  his  secret  sins,  has  obtained 
no  new  views  of  his  duty,  has  not  drawn  nigh  to  God 
and  found  peace  and  happiness  in  communion  with  him  ; 
no,  he  has  had  no  time  for  that ;  he  has  been  busy  all 
day  running  over  his  twenty  chapters  in  the  Bible  !  It 
were  well  if  James  was  aware  that  his  real  motive  for 
this  work  is  the  pride  of  thinking  and  perhaps  of  telling 
others  how  much  he  has  read,  and  that  the  cultivation  of 
such  a  spirit  is  a  bad  way  of  spending  God's  holy  day.  I 
would  not  say  a  word  against  reading  the  Bible,  but  it 
must  be  read  in  a  proper  manner.  Many  a  boy  has  wast' 


272  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Cll.  9. 

A  boy  studying  the  Bible.  The  boat. 

ed  every  hour  of  the  Sabbath,  and  yet  done  nothing  but 
read  the  Bible  from  morning  to  night. 

Many  young  persons  think  there  is  no  way  to  break 
the  Sabbath  but  by  work  or  play.  But  the  spirit  and 
meaning  of  the  fourth  command  undoubtedly  is,  that  the 
Sabbath  should  be  devoted  to  the  real  improvement  of 
the  Christian  character.  And  if  this  is  neglected,  the 
Sabbath  is  broken,  no  matter  in  what  way  its  hours  may 
have  been  spent. 

Yes,  if  this  is  neglected,  the  command  is  disobeyed  ; 
no  formal  attention  to  any  external  duty  whatever  can 
be  made  a  substitute.  A  boy  sits  at  his  window  studying 
his  Sabbath  School  lesson  ;  his  object,  I  will  suppose,  is 
not  to  learn  his  duty  and  to  do  it,  but  he  wishes  to  sur- 
pass some  companion  at  the  recitation,  or  perhaps  is  ac- 
tuated by  a  mere  selfish  desire  to  obtain  a  reward  which 
has  been  perhaps  very  improperly  offered  him  ;  he  looks 
out  of  the  window  across  the  valley  which  extends  be- 
fore his  father's  house,  and  sees  upon  a  beautiful  pond 
there,  a  boat  full  of  his  playmates,  pushing  off  from  the 
shore  on  an  excursion  of  pleasure. 

"  Ah !"  says  he,  "  those  wicked  boys,  they  are  break- 
ing the  Sabbath  !" 

Yes,  they  are  breaking  the  Sabbath  ;  and  so  is  he  ;  both 
are  perverting  it.  God  looks  at  the  heart,  and  requires 
that  all  should  spend  the  Sabbath  in  honest  efforts  to 
discover,  and  confess,  and  abandon  sin,  and  to  become 
pure  and  holy  and  devoted  to  him.  Now,  both  the  boys 
in  the  boat  and  the  one  at  the  window  are  neglecting  this. 
They  are  doing  it  for  the  pleasure  of  a  sail ;  he  is  doing 
it  for  the  honor  of  superiority  in  his  class.  The  day  is 
mis-spent  and  perverted  in  both  cases 

Mrs.  X.  is  the  mother  of  several  children,  and  she  is 
exceedingly  desirous  that  all  her  family  should  faithfully 
keep  the  Sabbath.  She  cannot  bear  the  thought  that  it 
should  be  profaned  by  any  under  her  roof.     Before  sa- 


Ch.  9.]  THE    SABBATH.  273 


The  careful  mother. 


cred  time  comes,  therefore,  the  whole  house  is  put  in  or- 
der, all  worldly  business  is  brought  to  a  close,  so  that 
the  minds  of  all  her  family  may  be  free.  All  this  is  ex- 
cellent ;  but  how  does  she  actually  spend  the  sacred 
hours?  Why,  her  whole  attention  is  devoted  to  enforc- 
ing the  mere  external  duties  of  religion  in  htr  liousehold. 
She  is  careful  to  banish  every  secular  book  ;  she  requires 
one  child  to  sit  still  and  read  the  Bible  ;  another  she  con- 
fines to  a  prayer-book,  or  to  some  good  book  of  religious 
exhortation ;  a  third  is  kept  studying  a  Sabbath  School 
lesson.  All  however  must  be  still ;  it  is  her  great  desire 
and  aim  to  banish  every  thing  like  worldly  work  or  play. 
There  must  be  no  light  conversation,  and  even  the  little 
infant,  treeping  upon  the  floor,  has  to  relinquish  her 
playthings  and  spend  the  day  in  inaction. 

Now,  when  night  comes,  this  mother  thinks  that  she 
has  kept  the  Sabbath,  and  induced  her  household  to  keep 
it  too;  and  perhaps. she  has.  But  all  that  I  have  describ- 
ed does  not  prove  that  she  has  kept  it  according  to  God's 
original  design.  God  did  not  institute  the  Sabbath  in  or- 
der merely  that  children  might  be  kept  from  play,  or  that 
they  might  be  forced  to  read,  mechanically,  good  books  ; 
but  that  they  might  improve  their  characters,  and  make 
real  preparation  for  another  world.  Now,  unless  a  mother 
adopts  such  methods  as  shall  most  effectually  promote  the 
improvement  of  her  children,  and  unless  she  succeeds  in 
interesting  them  in  it,  she  does  not  attain  the  object  in 
view.  If  your  children  are  spending  the  day  in  a  cold 
and  heartless  manner,  complying  with  your  rules  from 
mere  fear  of  your  authority,  they  are  not,  properly  speak- 
ing, keeping  the  Sabbath.  The  end  in  view,  improve- 
ment of  character,  is  not  attained. 

But  many  a  mother  who  reads  this  will  ask,  "  How  can 
I  interest  my  children  in  such  efforts  to  improve  ?"  You 
will  find  a  hundred  ways,  if  you  set  5^our  hearts  upon  it. 
The  only  danger  is,  that  you  will  not  fully  feel  the  neces- 


274  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    0. 

Way  to  interest  children. 

sity  of  it.  You  are  satisfied^  or  there  is  great  danger  that 
you  will  be  satisfied  with  the  mere  formality  o{  external 
decorum  on  the  Lord's  day,  forgetting  that  the  empire  in 
which  your  influence  ought  to  reign  on  that  day,  is  the  em- 
pire of  the  heart,  not  the  external  conduct.  You  ought 
therefore  to  aim  at  adopting  such  means  of  addressing 
and  influencing  your  children  as  shall  seem  best  calculat- 
ed to  reach  and  control  their  hearts.  If  you  really  wish 
to  do  this,  and  really  try  to  do  it,  you  will  soon  learn. 

Imagine  such  a  scene  as  this  :  A  mother,  with  several 
children  under  eight  or  ten  years  of  age,  collects  them  in 
her  chamber  on  a  pleasant  Sabbath  afternoon  in  summer, 
and  with  a  cheerful  countenance  and  pleasant  tone  of 
voice,  when  all  are  seated,  addresses  them  as  follows : 

"  Well,  children,  you  know  what  the  Sabbath  is  for  ;  it 
is  to  give  us  time  and  opportunity  to  improve.  I  suppose 
you  want  to  improve.  The  way  to  do  it  is  to  find  out 
our  faults,  and  then  correct  them.  Are  you  willing  now 
to  try  to  find  out  your  faults?" 

"Yes,  mother." 

*'  I  have  thought  of  this  plan.  How  should  you  like  it? 
I  will  pause  a  minute  or  two,  and  we  will  all  try  to  think 
of  faults  that  we  have  seen  among  ourselves  last  week. 
You  may  try,  and  I  will  try.  After  a  minute  or  two,  I  will 
ask  you  all  around.     Should  you  like  to  do  this  ?" 

A  mother  who  manages  her  children  in  a  proper  man- 
ner with  habitual  kindness  and  afi'ection,  will  receive  a 
cordial  assent  to  such  a  proposal  as  this.  After  a  few 
minutes  she  puts  the  question  round  : 

"  Mary,  have  you  thought  of  any  thing  ?" 

"Yes,  mother;  I  think  that  John  and  I  quarrel  some- 
times." 

"  Do  you  think  of  any  case  which  happened  last 
week  ?'* 

Mary  hesitates,  and  John  looks  a  little  confused. 

"You  may  do  just  as  you  please,"  says  the  mother, 


Gh.  9.]  THE    SABBATH.  275 

Conversation  with  the  children. 


"  about  mentioning  it.  It  is  unpleasant  to  think  and  talk 
about  our  faults,  and  of  course  it  will  be  unpleasant  for 
you  to  describe  particularly  any  thing  wrong  which  you 
have  done.  But  then  if  you  do  honestly  and  frankly  con- 
fess it,  I  think  you  will  be  much  less  likely  to  do  wrong 
in  the  same  way  next  week." 

Mary  then  tells,  in  her  own  simple  style,  the  story  of 
some  childish  contention,  not  with  the  shrinking  and  he- 
sitation of  extorted  acknowledgment,  but  openly  and 
frankly,  and  in  such  a  manner  as  greatly  to  diminish  the 
danger  of  falling  into  such  a  sin  again.  When  she  has 
said  all,  which  however  may  not  perhaps  have  been  more 
than  two  or  three  sentences,  the  mother  continues,  ad- 
dressing herself  to  the  others  : 

"  Well,  children,  you  have  heard  what  Mary  has  said. 
Have  you  observed  any  thing  in  her  expressions  which 
tended  to  show  that  she  has  wished  to  throw  the  blame 
off  upon  John  ?" 

They  will  probably  say.  Yes.  A  child  would  not  be  a 
very  impartial  historian  in  such  a  case,  and  other  children 
would  be  very  shrewd  to  detect  the  indications  of  bias. 

"  Now  I  do  not  know,"  says  the  mother,  "  but  thart 
John  was  most  to  blame.  Mary  told  the  story,  on  the 
whole,  in  a  very  proper  manner.  I  only  asked  the  ques- 
tion, to  remind  you  all  that  our  object  is  now  to  learn 
our  own  faults,  and-  to  correct  them ;  and  you  must  all 
try  to  see  as  much  as  possible  where  you  yourselves  have 
been  to  blame." 

She  then  turns  to  some  passages  of  the  Bible  on  the 
subject  of  forbearance  and  harmony  between  orothers  and 
sisters,  and  reads  them — not  for  the  purpose  of  loading 
her  children  with  invective,  and  reproach,  or  telling  them, 
with  a  countenance  of  assumed  solemnity,  how  wicked 
they  have  been — but  of  kindly  and  mildly  pointing  out 
what  God's  commands  are,  and  the  necessity  as  well  as 
the  happiness  of  obeying  them 


276 

YOUNG 

CHRISTIAN. 

[Ch. 

0. 

Ingenuity  and 

effort 

necessary. 

The  heai 

It  to  be  reach 

ed. 

If  this  is  done  in  a  proper  manner,  and  if  the  mother 
remembers  that  she  must  watcli  the  feelings  of  her  little 
charge,  and  apply  her  means  of  influence  dexterously 
and  skillfully,  she  will  succeed,  certainly  after  oae  or  two 
trials,  in  producing  a  dislike  of  contention,  a  desire  to 
avoid  it,  and  a  resolution  to  sin,  in  this  respect,  no  more. 
She  may  in  the  same  manner  go  through  the  circle — 
fault  after  fault  will  be  brought  up,  its  nature  and  its 
consequences  kindly  pointed  out,  and  those  commands 
of  God,  which  bear  upon  the  subject,  plainly  brought  to 
view.  The  interview  may  be  closed  by  a  short  and  sim- 
ple prayer — that  God  will  forgive,  for  Christ's  sake,  the 
sins  they  liavc  confessed,  and  give  them  all  strength  to 
resist  temptation  during  the  coming  week.  Such  an  ex- 
ercise, if  managed  as  every  kind  and  faithful  mother  can 
manage  it,  will  succeed;  the  children  will  go  away  from 
it  with  consciences  relieved  in  some  degree  from  the 
burden  of  sin — they  will  look  back  upon  it  as  a  seriouSy 
but  a  happy  interview,  and  will  feel — though  a  wise  mo- 
ther will  not  be  over  anxious  to  draw  from  them  an  ex- 
pression of  that  feeling — that  it  is  a  happy  thing  to  re- 
pent of  sin,  and  to  return  to  duty.  I  asked  my  readers 
at  the  outset,  to  imagine  this  scene  ;  but,  in  fact,  it  is 
not  an  imaginary  scene — in  substance,  it  is  reality. 

This,  now,  is  keeping  the  Sabbath.  Such  an  influence 
comes  to  the  heart,  and  it  accomplishes  directly  and  im- 
mediately the  very  object  that  God  had  in  view  in  the 
appointment  of  the  Sabbath.  I  only  offer  it,  however,  as 
a  specimen  ;  if  repeated  in  exactly  this  form  every  Sab- 
bath, the  sameness  might  become  tiresome.  The  idea 
which  I  mean  to  convey  is,  that  the  heart  must  be  reached, 
and  the  process  of  improvement  must  be  advancing,  or 
the  object  of  the  Sabbath  is  lost.  Let  my  young  readers 
remember  this.  Unless  you  are  improving  and  elevating 
your  characters,  discovering  your  faults  and  correcting 
them,  learning  God's  will  as  it  applies  to  your  own  con- 


Ch.    9.]  THE    SABBATH.  277 


Variety.  Remarks  of  a  Clergyman. 

duct,  and  confessing  and  forsaking  your  sins — unless  you 
are  doing  such  work  as  this,  you  cannot  be  keeping  the 
Sabbath  day.  The  simple  question  then  is,  are  you  will- 
ing to  devote  honestly  and  conscientiously  one  day  in 
seven  to  real  and  sincere  efforts  to  make  progress  in 
piety  ? 

If  you  are  willing,  and  every  Christian  certainly  will 
be,  you  are  not  to  go  forward  blindly,  reading  and  re- 
flecting Avilhout  system  or  plan,  on  the  vain  supposition 
that  if  the  mind  is  actually  employed  on  religious  sub- 
jects, all  is  going  on  well.  You  must  take  into  careful 
consideration  the  nature  of  the  human  mind,  and  the 
means  which,  according  to  the  laws  which  the  Creator 
has  given  it,  are  most  calculated  to  have  an  influence 
over  it.  This  principle  will  require  attention  to  several 
points. 

1.  Variety  in  the  exercises  of  the  Sabbath.  When  I 
was  thinking  of  this  topic,  and  considering  how  I  sliould 
present  it  here,  I  one  day  accidentally  fell  into  conversa- 
tion with  a  clergyman  who  had  had  far  more  experience 
as  a  teacher  than  I  have  enjoyed.  I  requested  him  to  re- 
duce to  writing  the  views  he  expressed,  that  I  might  in- 
sert them  here.   He  soon  after  sent  me  the  following  : 

"  Many  Christians  who  feel  deeply  the  importance  of 
spending  the  Sabbath  in  a  proper  manner,  find,  notwith- 
standing all  their  endeavors,  that  the  sacred  hours  do  at 
times  pass  heavily  along.  Now  the  Sabbath  should  be 
not  only  the  Christian's  most  profitable,  but  most  happy 
day.  I  once  knew  a  young  Christian  who  resolved  that 
he  would  pass  the  whole  day  in  prayer  ;  but  very  soon 
he  became  exhausted  and  weary.  He  however  persever- 
ed through  the  whole  day,  with  the  exception  of  the  few 
necessary  interruptions  ;  and  when  night  came,  he  felt  a 
deadness  and  exhaustion  of  feeling  which  he  unhappily 
mistook  for  spiritual  desertion.  No  human  mind  can,  in 
ordinary  cases,  sustain  such  long  and  intense  application 


278  YOUNG   CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   9. 


Necessity  of  variety.  Religious  books. 

to  one  subject ;  there  must  be  variety,  to  give  cheerful- 
ness and  to  invigorate.  Often  a  conscientious  young 
Christian  takes  his  Bible,  resolving  to  spend  the  Sabbath 
in  reading  the  Bible  and  in  prayer.  He  perhaps  passes 
an  hour  or  two  in  this  way  very  pleasantly,  and  then  he 
feels  tired ;  he  tries  to  rouse  his  feelings,  and  bitterly 
condemns  himself  for  unavoidable  languor.  I  have  known 
persons  to  be  greatly  disquieted  and  distrustful  of  their 
Christian  character,  because  they  could  not  pass  the 
whole  of  the  Sabbath  pleasantly  in  uninterrupted  reading 
the  Bible  and  prayer. 

"  There  is  a  wide  difference  between  spiritual  desertion 
and  mental  exhaustion.  To  avoid  this  mental  exhaus- 
tion, and  to  keep  the  spirits  animated  and  cheerful,  much 
variety  of  pursuit  is  necessary.  Who  would  be  willing  to 
go  to  church,  and  have  the  whole  time  occupied  with  a 
sermon,  or  a  prayer,  or  a  hymn?  How  few  are  there  who 
can,  with  pleasure  and  profit,  listen  to  a  sermon  of  one 
hour's  length  !  There  must  be  a  diversity  of  exercises  to 
make  public  worship  agreeable,  and  there  must  be  di- 
versity to  give  pleasure  to  private  devotion. 

"  Let  the  sacred  hours  of  the  Sabbath,  then,  be  ap- 
propriated to  a  variety  of  religious  employments.  Sup- 
pose the  case  of  a  young  married  man.  He  wishes  to 
pass  the  Sabbath  in  a  way  acceptable  to  God,  and  to  en- 
joy his  religious  duties.  He  rises  in  good  season  in  the 
morning,  and  commences  the  day  with  a  short,  but  fer- 
vent prayer,  for  the  divine  blessing  ;  he  then  passes  the 
time  till  breakfast,  in  reading  the  Bible.  Perhaps,  for  the 
sake  of  variety,  he  spends  a  part  of  the  time  in  reading 
the  devotional  portions,  and  a  part  in  perusing  its  inte- 
resting history.  At  the  breakfast-table,  with  cheerful 
countenance  and  heart,  he  leads  the  conversation  to  reli- 
gious subjects ;  after  breakfast  he  passes  an  hour  in 
reading  some  valuable  religious  book.  Books  are  so  nu- 
merous now,  that  the  best  practical  works  upon  Christia- 


Ch.  9.]  THE    SABBATH.  279 

Way  of  spending  the  Sabbath.  Various  duties. 

nity  are  easily  obtained  by  all.  Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  Pro- 
gress, Baxter's  Saints'  Rest,  Law's  Serious  Call,  Dod- 
dridge's Rise  and  Progress,  Imitation  of  Christ,  &.c.  are 
works  of  standard  merit,  and  works  with  which  all 
Christians  may,  and  should  be  acquainted.  It  is  very  de- 
sirable that  the  Christian  should  have  on  hand  some  such 
book,  which  he  will  read  in  course,  a  moderate  portion 
every  day,  until  he  has  finished  it. 

"  At  length  the  time  arrives  for  the  assembling  of  his 
family  for  morning  prayers.  He  carries  his  principle,  for 
securing  an  interesting  variety,  here.  Sometimes  he  will 
read  religious  intelligence  from  a  periodical ;  sometimes 
he  reads  an  interesting  narrative  from  a  tract ;  always 
taking  care  to  select  something  which  will  excite  atten- 
tion. After  finishing  this,  he  opens  the  Bible  and  selects 
some  appropriate  passage,  and  reads  it,  with  occasional 
remarks,  intended  to  deepen  the  impression  upon  his 
own  mind,  and  upon  the  minds  of  those  in  the  circle 
around  him.  He  then  reads  a  hymn,  and  after  singing  a 
few  verses,  if  the  family  are  able  to  sing,  bows  at  the  fa- 
mily altar  in  prayer.  The  variety  which  he  has  thus  in- 
troduced into  the  exercise  has  continued  to  interest  the 
feelings,  and  no  occasion  has  been  offered  for  lassitude 
or  tedium. 

"  He  now  walks  the  room  for  exercise,  and  reviews  the 
past  week  ;  he  thinks  of  the  opportunities  to  do  good 
which  he  has  neglected ;  examines  his  feelings  and  his 
conduct,  and  in  ejaculatory  prayer,  seeks  forgiveness. 
When  he  enters  the  place  of  public  worship  his  mind  is 
ready  for  active  service  there — he  unites  with  his  pas- 
tor in  prayer.  When  a  hymn  is  read,  he  attends  to  the 
sentiment,  and  makes  melody  in  heart  to  God  when  sing- 
ing his  praises.  He  listens  attentively  to  the  sermon, 
feeling  that  the  responsibility  of  being  interested  in  it 
comes  upon  him,  and  he  prays  that  God  will  bless  it  to 
his  own  soul,  and  to  the  conversion  of  others. 


280  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  9. 

Way  of  closing  the  Sabbath. 


"  Perhaps,  in  the  interval  between  forenoon  and  after- 
noon service,  he  has  a  class  in  the  Sabbath  School,  or  is 
himself  a  member  of  the  Bible  class  :  these  duties  he 
perforins  with  a  sincere  desire  to  do  good.  After  the  close 
of  the  afternoon  services  he  retires  for  secret  prayer. 
He  appropriates  a  proper  period  to  this  duty,  and  pre- 
sents his  own  private  and  personal  wants,  and  the  spi 
ritual  interests  of  others,  in  minute  detail  to  God  ; — he 
looks  forward,  too,  to  the  duties  of  the  week  ;  he  brings 
before  his  mind  the  temptations  to  which  he  will  be  ex- 
posed, the  opportunities  for  exerting  a  Christian  influ- 
ence, which  he  possesses,  and  forms  his  plans  of  Chris- 
tian usefulness  for  the  week ;  he  thinks  of  some  good 
object  which  he  will  try  to  advance,  of  some  individual 
whom  he  will  try  to  lead  to  the  Savior.  He  forms  his 
resolutions,  and  perhaps  writes  them  down,  that  he  may 
refer  to  them  again  the  next  Sabbath,  in  the  review  of 
the  week.  At  the  appointed  hour  he  assembles  his  fa- 
mily for  evening  prayers.  A  brief  reference  to  the  reli- 
gious exercises  of  the  day,  or  some  interesting  narrative, 
followed  by  the  Bible,  singing  and  prayer,  again  give  va- 
riety and  animation  to  the  exercise  ;  and  when  all  the 
duties  of  the  day  are  over,  as  he  is  retiring  to  rest,  he 
passes  the  few  moments  which  remain  before  slumber 
has  wrapt  his  senses  in  forgetfulness,  in  reviewing  the 
duties  of  the  day.  The  Sabbath  has  been  profitably  and 
happily  spent.  It  has  been  to  him  a  ricli  season  of  im- 
provement and  of  enjoyment.  He  has  made  a  Sabbath 
day's  journey  toward  heaven;  he  has  obtained  strength 
to  meet  the  allurements  and  temptations  of  life.  During 
the  week  he  looks  back  upon  the  Sabbath  with  pleasure, 
and  when  the  light  of  another  holy  morning  dawns  upon 
him,  he  can  sincerely  say, 

"Welcome,  delightful  morn, 

"  Thou  day  of  sacred  rest ; 
"  I  hail  thy  kind  return — 

"  Lord,  make  these  moments  blest." 


Ch.  9.]  THE    SABBATH.  28i 

System  in  religious  exercises.  Waste  of  time  prevented. 

"  In  this  way  the  Sabbath  is  a  delight.  It  is  a  day  of 
refreshment,  and  the  spirit  of  man  longs  eagerly  for  its 
approach.  I  have  introduced  the  above  example  simply 
as  an  illustration  of  what  I  mean  by  saying  that  there 
should  be  variety  in  the  exercises  of  the  Sabbath.  Proba- 
bly no  one  who  reads  these  pages  will  find  it  expedient 
to  adopt  precisely  the  same  course.  But  all  may  proceed 
upon  the  same  principle,  and  adopt  their  plans  to  their 
situation. 

2.  "  System  in  the  exercises  of  the  Sabbath.  Much 
lime  is  often  lost  upon  the  Sabbath  for  want  of  a  regular 
plan.  If  a  person  reads  half  an  hour  in  the  Bible,  and 
then  stops  to  think  what  he  shall  take  up  next,  his  mind 
is  perplexed.  He  says,  '  Shall  I  now  retire  for  secret 
prayer,  or  shall  I  read  a  tract,  or  shall  I  take  up  Baxter's 
Saints'  Rest?  Several  moments  are  lost  in  deciding. 
Perhaps  he  takes  Baxter ;  but  while  reading,  he  stops  to 
consider  whether  it  would  not  have  been  better  to  have 
taken  something  else  ;  and  then  his  mind  is  diverted 
from  his  book  by  thinking  what  he  shall  next  read  ;  thus 
much  time  is  lost,  and  the  mind  is  perplexed.  It  is, 
therefore,  wisdom  to  have  a  plan  previously  formed  for 
the  whole  day.  With  a  little  reflection  a  plan  may  easi- 
ly be  formed,  appropriating  systematically  the  time  of 
the  Sabbath  to  the  several  duties  which  ought  to  be  per- 
formed. Many  persons  constantly  do  this.  In  all  cases 
there  will  be  unavoidable  interruptions.  But  we  may 
derive  much  assistance  from  rules,  without  making  our- 
selves slaves  to  them.  If  you  have  domestic  duties  which 
must  be  performed  upon  the  Sabbath,  have  them  perform- 
ed if  possible,  by  a  given  hour,  that  they  may  not  intrude 
upon  all  the  hours  of  the  sacred  day.  If  you  are  con- 
stantly exposed  to  interruptions,  if  there  is  no  time  of  the 
day  which  you  can  call  your  own,  then  let  your  plans  be 
formed  in  accordance  with  this  peculiarity  in  your  situa- 
tion.    Three  things  all  may  guard  against — indolence,  a 


282  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  fCh.  9. 

Rest  on  the  Sabbath.  Distinct  duties  to  be  performed. 

worldly  spirit,  and  too  long  application  of  the  mind  to 
one  subject.  There  are  no  lawful  situations  in  life,  in 
which  we  may  not  pass  the  day  with  improvement  to 
ourselves  and  acceptably  to  God." 

3.  Best  on  the  Sabbath,  We  ought  to  remember  that 
God  has  ordained  the  Sabbath  as  a  day  of  rest  from  la- 
bor, as  well  as  a  day  of  spiritual  improvement,  and  it 
ought  to  be  made  such. 

It  is  undoubtedly  wrong  to  apply  our  minds  so  uninter- 
ruptedly to  religious  duties  during  the  day,  as  to  feel 
worn  out  and  exhausted  at  night.  There  are  indeed 
some  exceptions  ;  ministers  and  Sabbath  School  teachers 
must,  in  fact,  often  do  a  very  hard  day's  work  on  the 
Sabbath  ;  they  are  laboring  for  the  religious  good  of 
others,  and  must  be  often  fatigued  by  their  efforts.  But 
Christians,  generally,  must  not  so  fill  up  the  hours  with 
mental  labor  as  to  prevent  the  rest  which  God  requires 
on  his  holy  day. 

These  three  points,  variety,  system,  and  rest,  ought  to 
be  attended  to  in  order  to  secure  the  greatest  possible 
moral  progress  in  that  day.  A  teacher  of  a  school  would 
be  very  unwise,  were  he  to  require  his  pupils  to  spend  the 
whole  of  a  day  in  actual  study — much  less  would  he  keep 
them  during  all  that  time  upon  one  single  book  or  subject. 
Nor  would  he,  on  the  other  hand,  relinquish  all  system, 
and  do  every  hour  whatever  should  happen  to  suggest  it- 
self to  his  thoughts.  He  knows  that  his  pupils  will  ac- 
tually advance  more  rapidly  if  he  systematizes,  and  at  the 
same  time  varies  their  exercises,  and  allows  intervals  of 
rest  and  recreation.  The  Christian  too,  who  watches  the 
movements  of  his  own  mind — and  every  Christian  ought 
to  do  this — will  soon  learn  that  he  must  adopt  substantial- 
ly the  same  plan,  if  he  wishes  to  make  rapid  progress  in 
piety. 

I  will  now  proceed  to  mention,  in  order  to  be  specific, 


Ch.  9.J  THE    SABBATH.  283 

Way  to  make  self-examination  interesting  and  useful. 

several  duties  which  I  think  ought  to  be  performed  on 
the  Sabbath.  I  advise  every  one  of  my  readers,  immedi- 
ately after  perusing  my  account  of  these  duties,  to  set 
down  and  form  a  plan  for  himself,  assigning  to  each  one 
of  them  an  appropriate  place,  devoting  an  hour  or  half 
an  hour  to  each,  according  to  his  age  and  his  circum- 
stances in  other  respects.  This  plan  ought  not,  however, 
to  occupy  all  the  hours  of  the  day  ;  some  should  be  left 
unappropriated,  to  allow  opportunity  for  rest,  and  to  per- 
form such  duties  as  may  from  time  to  time  arise  to  view. 
Make  your  plan,  and  resolve  to  try  it  for  one  Sabbath 
only.  You  can  then  consider  whether  to  continue  it,  or 
to  modify  it,  or  to  abandon  it  altogether. 

1.  Self-examination.  I  do  not  mean  by  this,  the  mere 
asking  yourself  some  general  questions  in  regard  to  your 
heart,  and  the  habitual  feelings  of  it.  I  mean,  going  over 
minutely  the  various  occurrences  of  the  week,  to  see 
what  you  have  done,  and  what  motives  have  actuated 
you.  You  can  attend  to  this  most  successfully,  by  con- 
sidering the  subject  under  several  distinct  heads. 

(1.)  Your  ultimate  object  of  pursuit.  Think  what  has 
chiefly  interested  and  occupied  you  during  the  week, 
and  what  is  the  final,  ultimate  object  you  have  in  view  in 
what  you  have  been  doing.  Review  all  the  labors  that 
have  been  connected  with  that  pursuit,  whatever  it  may 
be,  and  find  in  what  respects  you  have  been  pursuing 
your  object  with  a  wrong  spirit. 

(2.)  Duties  to  parents.  Consider  what  has  been  your 
conduct  toward  your  parents,  if  you  are  still  connected 
with  them.  Have  you  had  any  difliculty  of  any  kind 
with  them  ?  Have  they  reproved  you  once  during  the 
week,  or  been  dissatisfied  with  you  in  any  respect?  If 
so,  what  was  it  for?  Think  over  the  whole  occurrence, 
and  see  wherein  you  were  to  blame  in  it ;  look  at  your 
habitual  conduct  toward  your  parents,  or  to  those  under 
whose  care  you  are  placed.     Have  you  at  any  time  dis- 


284  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  9. 

Minuteness  of  self-examination. 

obeyed  them,  or  neglected  to  obey  them  with  alacrity  ? 
Have  you  had  any  dispute  with  them,  or  been  sullen  or 
ill-humored  on  account  of  any  of  their  measures?  You 
must  look  also  to  the  other  side  of  the  questipn,  and 
consider  what  good  you  have  done  to  your  parents.  Self- 
examination  implies  the  investigation  of  what  is  right  in 
the  character,  as  well  as  what  is  wrong.  What  good, 
then,  have  you  done  to  your  parents?  In  what  cases  did 
you  comply  with  their  wishes  when  you  were  tempted 
not  to  comply  ?  When  did  you  give  them  pleasure  by 
your  attention,  or  by  your  faithful  and  ready  obedience 
to  their  commands  ?  You  can  spend  half  an  hour  most 
profitably,  not  in  merely  answering  these  individual  ques- 
tions, but  in  a  careful  review  of  all  your  conduct  toward 
your  parents,  going  into  minute  detail. 

(3.)  Companions.  What  has  been  your  deportment 
toward  your  companions  ?  How  many  have  you  made 
happier  during  the  past  week  ?  Think  of  what  good 
you  have  done,  and  of  the  way  in  which  you  did  it.  How 
many  too  have  you  made  unhappy  ?  If  you  have  had 
any  contention,  call  to  mind  all  the  circumstances  of  it — 
the  angry,  or  reproachful,  or  ill-humored  words  which 
you  have  used,  and  the  spirit  of  heart  which  you  cherish- 
ed. It  Avill  require  a  long  time  to  review  thoroughly  all 
those  events  of  a  week  which  illustrate  the  spirit  with 
which  you  have  acted  toward  your  companions. 

(4.)  Fidelity  i-n  business.  You  have  some  employ- 
ment in  which  you  ought  to  have  been  diligent  and  faith- 
ful during  the  week.  Look  over  minutely  your  conduct 
in  this  respect ;  begin  with  Monday  morning  and  come 
down  to  Saturday  night,  and  see,  by  a  careful  examina- 
tion of  the  labors  of  the  week,  whether  you  have  been 
"  diligent  in  business,  fervent  in  spirit,  serving  the 
Lord." 

(5.)  Secret  sins.  This  is  a  most  important  head  of 
self-examination.     You  have  committed  secret  sins ;  you 


Ch.  9.]  THE    SABBATH.  285 

Prayer.  Studying  the  Bible  and  conversation  on  the  Sabbath. 

have  cherished  feelings  which  others  have  not  known, 
or  you  have  in  secret  done  what  you  would  blush  to  have 
exposed  to  view.  Explore  all  this  ground  thoroughly, 
and  confess  and  forsake  such  sins. 

I  might  mention  a  number  of  similar  points,  but  it  is 
unnecessary,  as  my  object  is  only  to  show  that  self-exa- 
mination, to  be  eifectual,  must  be  minute^  and  must  be 
brought  to  bear  immediately  and  directly  upon  the  ac- 
tual conduct.  You  will  succeed  much  better  if  you 
divide  the  ground  in  some  such  manner  as  above  de- 
scribed. 

3.  Prayer,  This  is  the  second  duty  which  I  shall 
mention,  for  which  a  place  ought  to  be  particularly  as- 
signed on  the  Sabbath.  I  have  in  several  places  in  this 
book  alluded  to  the  subject  of  prayer,  and  I  shall  merely 
here  say  in  what  respects  prayer  on  the  Sabbath  should 
be  peculiar.  More  time  should  be  allotted  to  the  exer- 
cise, and  it  should  also  take  a  wider  rang^^.  Consider 
your  whole  character,  and  look  back  upon  the  past,  and 
forward  to  the  future,  so  as  to  take  a  comprehensive  view 
of  your  condition  and  prospects,  and  let  your  supplica 
tions  be  such  as  this  extended  survey  will  suggest. 

There  is  one  thing  however  which  I  ought  to  say  here, 
though  I  shall  speak  more  distinctly  of  it  in  a  subsequent 
chapter.  It  is  this  :  Take  a  firm  and  an  immovahle  stand 
in  the  duty  of  secret  prayer ;  let  nothing  tempt  you  to 
neglect,  or  postpone,  or  curtail  it,  or  pass  over  the  season 
of  your  communion  with  God  in  a  hurried  and  formal 
manner.  Neglecting  the  closet  is  the  beginning  of  back- 
sliding, and  the  end  of  happiness  and  peace. 

3.  Studying  the  Bible.  In  the  chapter  devoted  ex- 
pressly to  this  subject,  I  have  mentioned  a  variety  of 
methods  by  which  the  study  of  the  Bible  may  be  made 
more  interesting  and  profitable  than  it  now  ordinarily  is. 
Every  young  Christian  ought  to  allot  a  specific  and  regu- 


'^6  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    9. 

Conversation  on  the  Sabbath. 

lar  time,  every  Sabbath  day,  to  the  systematic  study  of  the 
Bible  by  some  such  methods  as  those. 

4.  Conversation.  The  older  and  more  intelligent 
members  of  a  family  may  do  much  toward  making  the 
day  pass  pleasantly  and  profitably,  by  making  some  effort 
to  prepare  subjects  for  conversation.  Suppose  a  family 
take  such  a  course  as  this  : — A  daughter  studying  the 
Bible  alone  in  her  chamber,  finds  some  difiicult  and  yet 
interesting  question  arising  from  the  passage  she  is  inves- 
tigating. "I  will  ask  about  it  at  dinner,"  she  says  ;  "my 
brothers  and  sisters  will  be  interested  in  it  and  in  father's 
answer;  for  perhaps  he  will  be  able  to  answer  it."  The 
mother  is  reading  some  Christian  biography,  and  coming 
to  an  interesting  passage,  she  says  to  herself,  "  I  will  tell 
this  story  at  dinner  to-day,  it  will  interest  the  children." 
The  father  inquires  mentally,  as  the  dinner  hour  ap- 
proaches, "What  shall  we  talk  about  to-day  ?"  Perhaps 
he  recollects  some  occurrence  which  has  taken  place 
during  the  week,  which  illustrates  some  religious  truth, 
or  is  an  example  of  religious  duty.  Thus  each  one  comes 
to  the  table  prepared  to  contribute  something  to  the  com- 
mon stock  of  conversation.  The  dinner-hour,  in  such  a 
case,  will  not  pass  heavily  ;  all  will  be  interested  and  pro- 
fited by  the  remarks  which  will  be  made  on  the  various 
topics  which  will  come  up.  If  any  family  into  which 
this  book  may  come  will  really  try  this  experiment,  they 
will  find,  in  a  very  short  time,  that  subjects  for  conversa- 
tion will  come  up  in  far  greater  numbers,  and  exciting 
much  greater  interest  tlian  they  Avould  at  first  have  sup- 
posed. There  may  be  an  agreement  made  at  breakfast, 
that  each  one  of  tlie  family  will  endeavor  to  bring  for- 
ward some  fact  or  some  question  at  dinner,  and  then 
the  father  may  call  upon  all  in  turn. 

A  great  many  persons  imagine  that  conversation  is 
something  that  must  be  left  entirely  to  itself— that  there 
can  be  no  preparation  for  it,  and  no  arrangements  made 


Ch.  9.]  THE    SABBATH.  287 

Frivolous  conversation.  Public  worship. 

to  secure  interest  and  profit  from  it.  But  the  truth  is,  if 
there  is  any  thing  which  demands  forethought  and  ar- 
rangement, it  is  this  very  business  of  conversation — espe- 
cially religious  conversation  on  the  Sabbath.  Without 
some  such  efforts  as  I  have  above  described,  the  Christian 
family,  when  assembled  at  dinner  or  tea,  must  spend  the 
time  in  silence  or  frivolous  remarks,  criticisms  upon  the 
preacher,  or  discussions  on  subjects  whicli  keep  those 
who  are  conscientious  constantly  uneasy,  because  they 
doubt  whether  the  subjects  upon  which  they  are  speak- 
ing are  suitable  to  the  sacredness  of  the  Lord's  day. 

Many  persons  have  no  idea  of  religious  conversation, 
excepting  a  forced  and  formal  exhortation  from  the  mas- 
ter of  the  family,  or  from  a  Christian  minister.  They 
cannot  understand  how  a  whole  family  can  be  interested, 
from  the  aged  grand  parent  down  to  the  youngest  child, 
in  a  conversation  exactly  calculated  to  promote  the  ob- 
jects of  the  Sabbath.  But  let  such  persons  try  the  ex- 
periment I  have  mentioned  above,  and  they  will  discover 
their  mistake.  The  ways  by  which  a  family  may  be 
interested  by  means  of  judicious  and  ingenious  efforts  on 
the  part  of  a  parent  or  an  older  brother  or  sister,  are 
very  numerous.  Sometimes  a  question  may  be  proposed 
in  regard  to  duty.  A  case  may  be  imagined,  or  some 
real  case  ^vhich  has  actually  occurred  may  be  stated,  and 
the  question  may  be  asked,  what  ought  to  be  done  in  such 
a  case?  Or  some  question  may  be  started  for  discussion, 
I  do  not  mean  for  formal  argument  as  in  a  parliamentary 
assembly,  but  for  free  interchange  of  opinion. 

5.  Public  Worship.  It  is  perfectly  astonishing  what  a 
tendency  there  is  among  mankind,  and  even  among  Chris- 
tians, to  throw  off  the  whole  responsibility  of  public  wor- 
ship upon  tJie  minister.  The  disposition  is  almost  univer- 
sal. Come  with  me  into  this  church  and  observe  the  con- 
gregation assembled.  The  minister  reads  a  hymn,  and 
while  he  is  reading  it^  how  great  a  proportion  of  the  hearers 


288  YOUNG   CHRISTIA.N.  [Ch.  9. 


Responsibilities  of  the  hearers.  The  farmer  and  his  boys. 

are  entirely  regardless  of  its  contents !  He  rises  to  offer  a 
prayer,  and  if  we  could  see  the  hearts  of  those  present 
how  many  we  should  find  who  are  really  making  no 
effort  at  all  to  accompany  him  to  the  throne  of  grace ! 
At  last  he  names  his  text,  and  the  eyes  of  almost  all  the 
assembly  are  turned  toward  him.  As  he  looks  over  the 
congregation  he  sees  an  expression  of  interest  upon  the 
countenances  of  his  hearers,  and  perhaps  expects  they 
are  going  to  listen  to  what  he  has  to  say.  He  begins 
the  delivery  of  his  message,  endeavoring  to  explain  to 
them  the  principles  of  duty,  or  to  present  the  considera- 
tions which  should  urge  them  to  do  it.  Now  let  me  ask, 
while  this  exercise  is  going  forward,  upon  whom  does  the 
responsibility  of  it  chiefly  come  ?  Is  it  the  duty  of  a  minis- 
ter to  interest  the  people^  or  that  of  the  people  to  be  inte- 
terested  by  their  own  efforts  in  the*  message  the  minister 
brings?  Are  you,  in  receiving  a  message  from  above,  to 
reject  it,  or  listen  to  it  carelessly  and  with  an  inattentive 
and  listless  air,  because  it  is  not  presented  in  such  a  man 
ner  as  to  compel  you,  by  the  novelty  of  its  illustrations 
or  the  beauty  of  its  diction,  to  give  it  your  regard  ? 

A  farmer  sends  his  boys  into  a  field  to  spend  the  day 
in  work.  He  tells  them  what  to  do  for  an  hour,  and 
says  that  after  that  lime  he  shall  send  a  man  to  explain 
to  them  how  they  are  to  proceed  through  the  day.  The 
boys  go  on  with  their  work,  until  at  length  the  expected 
messenger  appears.  He  begins  to  tell  them  how  the  land 
is  to  be  ploughed,  or  in  what  way  the  father  wishes  the 
seed  to  be  put  into  the  groun '.  The  boys  listen  to  him  a 
minute  or  two,  until  one,  perceiving  some  oddity  in  the 
man's  manner,  bursts  into  a  laugh  ;  another  sits  down  on 
a  green  bank  under  a  tree,  and  gradually  falls  into  a  state 
of  drowsy  insensibility  ;  a  third  looks  away  with  vacant 
countenance  upon  the  hills  and  mountains  around,  utter- 
ly regardless  of  the  message.  The  boys  consequently  do 
not  learn  what  their  father  wishes  them  to  do,  and  do 


Ch.  9.]  THE    SABBATH.  289 

Duty  of  the  hearers  to  be  interested. 

not  do  it ;  and  when  night  comes,  and  they  are  called  to 
account  for  the  labors  of  the  day,  they  try  to  justify  them- 
selves with  this  preposterous  excuse  :  "  Why,"  they  say 
to  their  father,  "  the  man  you  sent  us  was  not  an  inte- 
resting man,  and  so  we  did  not  pay  any  attention  to  his 
message.  He  had  no  talent  at  making  his  mode  of  ex- 
planation novel  and  striking,  and  so  we  did  not  listen  to 
it."  "  I  could  not  possibly  fix  my  attention,"  says  one, 
"  He  was  a  very  sleepy  talker,"  says  another  ;  "  I  could 
not  keep  awake."  "  He  was  dressed  so,"  says  a  third, 
"  and  he  had  such  a  tone  that  I  could  not  help  laughing 
at  him." 

Such  are  the  excuses  which  many  persons  give  for  not 
giving  heed  to  religious  instruction  on  the  Sabbath. 
They  try  to  throw  off  all  responsibility  upon  the  minis- 
ter ;  and  if  he  does  not  awaken,  by  the  power  of  his  ge- 
nius, an  interest  in  their  minds,  they  consider  themselves 
entirely  excused  from  feeling  any.  They  say  in  substance 
to  themselves,  "  We  know  we  have  disobeyed  God,  and 
he  is  sending  us  messengers  to  communicate  to  us  the 
offers  of  forgiveness  for  the  past  and  direction  for  the  fu- 
ture ;  but  unless  he  sends  us  agreeable,  and  ingenious, 
and  eloquent  men,  we  will  pay  no  attention  to  any  of 
them." 

Who  can  stand  in  the  judgment  with  such  an  excuse  ? 
And  yet  it  is  the  actual  feeling  of  thousands.  But,  my 
reader,  I  do  urge  you  to  abandon  altogether  this  plan  of 
throv/ing  off  upon  the  minister,  whom  Providence  has 
sent  to  you,  the  responsibility  of  the  interest  you  take  in 
public  ijistruction.  It  is  his  duty  to  deliver  his  message 
plainly  and  intelligibly,  but  it  is  your  duty,  most  unques- 
tionably, to  be  interested  in  it.  Go  to  meeting,  feeling 
that  you  have  something-  to  do  there.  You  must  be  inte- 
rested in  v/hat  you  hear,  if  it  is  a  plain  exhibition  of  re- 
ligious truth  ;  and  you  must  apply  it  to  your  own  con- 
science and  heart  by  real  aictive  effort,  or  you  must  incur 

13 


290  YOUNG     CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  9. 


Sinister  motives  at  Church. 


the  guilt  of  rejecting  the  message  from  heaven.  The 
less  interesting  the  preacher. tlien  is,  the  more  active  and 
the  more  arduous  the  duty  of  his  hearers.  They  should 
look  him  steadily  in  the  face,  and  listen  in  silence  and  in 
deep  attention  to  what  he  has  to  say  ;  and  feel  at  all  times, 
that  while  it  is  the  minister's  duty  to  be  faithful  in  deli- 
vering his  message,  it  is  their  most  imperious  duty  to 
take  heed  how  they  hear. 

There  are  a  great  many  persons  who  are  very  constant 
in  their  attendance  upon  public  worship,  and  who  think 
their  motive  is  respect  for  religion,  and  a  desire  to  obey 
God's  commands;  when  in  fact  they  are  controlled  by 
other  motives  altogether.  I  do  not  mean  by  this  that  they 
attend  public  worship,  and  sustain  by  their  influence  the 
ordinances  of  religion,  through  a  distinct  and  deliberate 
design  of  merely  promoting,  in  some  way,  their  own 
worldly  interest  by  it.  Actual,  intentional  hypocrisy,  is  a 
means  which  few  men  will  knouingly  adopt  to  accom- 
plish their  purposes.  It  is  of  so  mean  and  base  a  quality, 
that  even  the  honorable  principles  of  this  world  are 
usually  sufficient  to  preserve  the  breasts  of  men  from  its 
pollution.  It  is  degrading  and  humiliating  to  admit  it, 
knowingly  and  voluntarily,  as  a  principle  of  action. 
The  great  danger  is  from  a  hypocrisy,  or  something  near- 
ly allied  to  it,  which  comes  in  secresy  or  disguise.  It  is 
not  always  an  easy  thing  for  us  to  decide  by  what  mo- 
tives we  are  governed  in  the  actions  wiiich  we  perform. 
We  are  often  swayed  by  inducements,  of  which,  without 
rigid  and  impartial  scrutiny,  we  are  entirely  unconscious  ; 
for  there  may  be  one  motive  of  fair  and  honorable  ap- 
pearance, which  stands  out  to  the  view  of  the  individual 
as  the  director  of  his  actions  ;  and  there  may  be  another 
of  far  different  character,  which  in  reality  guides  him, 
but  which  is  coiled  up  like  a  main-spring,  in  a  secret 
place,  and  thus  eludes  his  observation.  The  Bible,  when 
it  teaches  us  that  the  heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things. 


Cli.  9.]  THE    SABBATH.  291 

Way  to  detect  them,  yiiicere  and  heartless  worship. 

tells  US  nothing  which  an  unbiassed  observation  of  human 
nature  will  not  every  where  confirm. 

Now,  if  some  sinister  motive  is  for  a  time  actuating  a 
Christian  in  his  religious  course,  he  can  very  easily  de- 
tect it  by  the  manner  iu  which  the  public  duties  of  the 
Sabbath  are  performed.  A  man  who  is  secretly  influenc- 
ed by  some  worldly  consideration  in  what  he  does,  may 
be  attentive  and  faithful  in  all  the  open  and  public  ser- 
vices of  religion.  If  we  are  thus  influenced,  however,  as 
it  is  external  appearance  o.nly  which  can  bring  us  world- 
ly advantage,  we  shall  go  no  farther  than  to  the  outward 
appearance.  We  may  rise  with  God's  people  in  his  house 
of  prayer,  and  assume  the  posture  of  reverential  suppli- 
cation ;  but  if  appearances  are  all  which*  we  regard,  we 
shall  be  satisfied  with  merely  assuming  the  posture.  We 
may  join  with  our  lips  in  the  song  of  praise  ;  and  if  to  be 
seen  of  men  is  our  object,  the  service  of  the  lip  is  all  that 
is  necessary  for  its  accomplishment,  and  that  will  be  all 
to  which  we  shall  aim.  And  we  may  listen  with  appa- 
rent attention  to  the  message  which  the  preacher  delivers, 
but  the  appearance  of  attention  will  be  all,  if  our  object 
is  such  that  this  appearance  wiil  attain  it. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  an  honest  intention  of  worship- 
ping God  be  the  motive  which  calls  a  man  to  the  weekly 
assembly,  it  will  carry  him  farther  tha»i  to  a  compliance 
with  the  external  form.  When,  in  the  season  of  prayer, 
recognizing  the  presence  of  the  great  God  of  heaven  and 
earth,  he  rises  to  assume  the  attitude  of  respectful  reve- 
rence, his  heart  will  feel  the  reverence  which  his  action 
implies.  His  thoughts,  instead  of  wandering  to  the  ends 
of  the  earth,  will  ascend  in  devout  aspirations  to  heaven. 
Contrition  for  the  ofljences  which  he  has  committed  against 
that  Being  who  has  been  kind  to  him  as  a  father — reso- 
lutions to  conform  his  conduct  and  character  more  com- 
pletely to  the  divine  will — longings  for  that  assistance 
from  above,  without  which,  past  experience  and  the  word 


292  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  9. 


Our  religious  duties  cannot  be  thrown  off  upon  our  minister. 

of  God  inform  him  tliat  his  efforts  will  be  strength  spent 
for  naught — and  ardent  supplications  for  blessings  upon 
his  fellow-men,  dictated  by  a  benevolence  which  compri- 
ses in  its  view  the  whole  human  family,  and  which  looks 
forward  in  its  good  will  to  men  to  the  enjoyments  of  eter- 
nity, as  well  as  to  the  comforts  and  conveniences  of  time 
— these  will  be  the  emotions  which  will  have  control  in 
the  heart  of  the  man  of  sincerity,  while  the  affections  of 
the  man  of  form  will  be  grovelling  upon  the  farm,  the 
money,  or  the  merchandise. 

The  song  of  praise  too,  from  the  one  who  really  wor- 
ships God,  will  not  be  merely  music  on  the  tongue,  it 
will  be  an  expression  of  warm  feeling  from  the  heart. 
The  voice  of  adoration  and  praise  will  arise  from  a  soul 
which  adores  and  praises,  and  which,  as  it  lifts  up  that 
voice,  will  be  itself  elevated  by  the  emotions  of  gratitude 
and  love  ;  while  the  offerer  of  an  external  worship  will 
be  lost  in  vacancy  during  the  singing  of  God's  praises,  or 
only  interested  in  the  mere  music  of  the  song. 

And  in  tlie  listening  to  the  sermon,  the  conscientious 
worshipper  will  give  earnest  heed  to  the  things  which  re- 
late to  his  everlasting  peace.  Knowing  that  he  has,  in 
multiplied  instances,  transgressed  a  law  which  God  has 
established  and  enforced  by  dreadful  sanctions,  he  is  con- 
vinced that  it  becomes  him  to  attend  in  earnest  to  the 
means  of  averting  the  consequences  of  his  guilt.  With 
this  view,  his  mind  is  fixed  in  attention  to  the  way  of  re- 
conciliation with  God,  and  to  the  duties  which  devolve 
upon  him  who  cherishes  hopes  of  immortality  ;  and  all 
this  time  he  who  is  contented  with  outward  conformity, 
is  lost  in  a  mental,  and  perhaps  in  a  bodily  slumber. 

Let  me  urge  my  readers  then  to  be  careful  how  they 
perform  the  duties  of  public  worship.  The  responsibili- 
ty of  being  interested  in  them,  and  profited  by  them, 
comes  upon  you  alone.  You  cannot  throw  it  off  upon 
your  minister.     Examine  yourself  with  reference  to  the 


Ch.  9.]  '  THE    SABBATH.  293 

Appearance  of  evil.  The  summer  eveuing, 

spirit  and  feelings  with  which  these  duties  are  performed. 
They  aflbrd  you  a  very  fine  opportunity  for  close  and 
faithful  self-examination  ;  for  the  sinister  motives  which, 
in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  undoubtedly  exist  in  your 
hearts,  will  show  themselves  here. 

There  is  one  -thing  more  that  I  ought  to  present  to  the 
consideration  of  my  readers  before  closing  the  chapter 
on  this  subject.     It  is  this  : 

In  keeping  the  Sabbath^  avoid  all  appearance  of  eviL 
I  have  endeavored  in  this  discussion  to  accomplish  two 
objects.  First,  to  convince  my  readers  that  the  mere 
form  and  manner  in  which  the  Sabbath  is  kept,  except 
so  far  as  it  is  a  matter  of  express  command,  is  not  ma- 
terial ;  and  secondly,  to  convey  to  the  mind  a  distinct 
idea  of  what  I  understand  to  be  the  spirit  of  the  com- 
mand, and  to  persuade  all  my  readers  to  aim  at  produc- 
ing, by  the  best  means  within  their  reach,  upon  their  own 
hearts  and  lives  the  effect  which  God  had  intended  in  the 
establishment  of  the  institution.  From  these  views  of 
the  subject,  were  I  to  stop  here,  it  might  seem  that  if  we 
take  such  a  course  as  shall  really  secure  our  own  reli- 
gious improvement  on  the  Sabbath,  we  may  do  it  in  any 
way ;  for  example,  that  we  may  walk,  or  ride,  or  visit, 
provided  that  we  so  regulate  and  control  our  thoughts 
and  conversation  as  to  make  the  spiritual  improvement 
which  it  is  the  object  of  the  day  to  secure.  But  no.  We 
must  avoid  the  appearance  of  evil.  We  must  not  seem 
to  be  breaking  or  disregarding  God's  commands. 

For  example.  A  Christian  living  on  the  sea-shore, 
after  having  spent  the  day  in  the  various  duties  which 
have  presented  themselves  to  his  attention,  stands  at  the 
door  of  his  house  and  looks  out  upon  the  glassy  surface 
of  the  bay  which  stretches  before  him.  It  is  a  summer 
evening.  The  sun  is  just  setting,  throwing  his  bright 
beams  over  the   water,  and   gilding  every  object  upon 


294  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN*.  [Ch.   9. 


A  walk.  Walking,  riding,  sailing. 

which  it  shines.  The  Christian  looks  over  this  scene  of 
beauty,  and  its  expression  of  calmness  and  peace  is  trans- 
ferred to  his  own  soul.  He  feels  the  presence  of  God 
in  it  all,  and  rejoices  in  the  power  and  goodness  of  the 
great  Being  who  reigns  in  every  scene  of  beauty  or  of 
grandeur  which  nature  exhibits. 

With  his  heart  filled  with  such  thoughts,  he  walks 
down  upon  the  beach  to  indulge  in  the  contemplation 
of  God's  goodness  to  mankind  and  to  him.  Now  he  is, 
it  must  be  admitted,  while  doing  this,  accomplishing  the 
object  of  the  Sabbath  by  meditation  on  the  character  of 
God.  He  may  say  perhaps  tliat  his  views  of  divine  good 
ness  and  power  are  more  distinct  and  vivid  while  he  is 
walking  out  among  the  beauties  of  nature,  if  his  heart  is 
in  a  right  state,  than  they  would  be  if  he  was  shut  up  in 
his  study.     Why  then  may  he  not  walk  out  at  evening  ? 

And  why  may  he  not  step  into  the  little  boat  which 
floats  in  the  cove,  and  unloosen  its  chain  and  push  him- 
self oflffrom  the  shore,  that  while  rocked  by  the  gentle, 
dying  swell  of  the  sea,  he  may  lose  himself  more  com- 
pletely in  the  absorbing  feeling  of  God's  presence,  and 
muse  more  uninterruptedly  upon  his  Creator's  power? 
Shall  he  go  ? 

No ;  stop.  Christian,  stop.  Before  you  spend  your 
half-hour  in  a  boat  upon  the  water,  or  even  in  your  even- 
ing walk,  consider  what  will  be  the  influence  of  the  ex- 
ample you  arc  going  to  set  to  others.  Shall  you  appear^ 
while  you  are  doing  this,  to  be  remembering  the  Sab- 
bath day  to  keep  it  holy  ?  Is  it  best,  on  the  whole,  that 
riding,  walking,  and  sailing  should  be  among  the  occu- 
pations of  holy  time?  Will  God  be  honored  and  his 
Sabbath  kept  if  all  spend  the  Sabbath  evening  as  you  are 
about  to  spend  it? 

These  questions  must  be  answered  on  a  principle 
which  will  apply  to  multitudes  of  other  cases.  Take  a 
course  which,  were  it  universally  imitated,  would  pro- 


Ch.  10.]  TRIAL    AND    DISCIPLINE.  293 

Trial  mid  discipline.  The  steam-boat  on  trial. 

mote  the  greatest  good  ;  otherwise  you  may  be  doing 
that  which,  though  safe  for  yourself,  will  be  of  incalcu- 
lable injury,  through  the  influence  of  your  example,  upon 
others. 


•«-^©^-f)- 


CHAPTER  X. 

TRIAL    AND    DISCIPLINE. 

"  Strangers  and  pilgrims  on  the  earth." 

I.  N.\TURE  OF  TRIAL. 

The  Bible  every  where  conveys  the  idea  that  this  life 
is  not  our  home,  but  a  state  of  probation,  that  is,  of  trial 
and  discipline,  which  is  intended  to  prepare  us  for  ano- 
ther. In  order  that  all,  even  the  youngest  of  my  rea- 
ders, may  understand  what  is  meant  by  this,  I  shall  illus- 
trate it  by  some  familiar  examples  drawn  from  the  ac- 
tual business  of  life. 

When  a  large  steam-boat  is  built  with  the  intention  of 
having  her  employed  upon  the  waters  of  a  great  river, 
she  must  be  proved  before  put  to  service.  Before  trial, 
it  is  somewhat  doubtful  whether  she  v/ill  succeed.  In 
the  first  place,  it  is  not  absolutely  certain  whether  her 
machinery  will  work  at  all.  There  may  be  some  flaw  in 
the  iron,  or  an  imperfection  in  some  part  of  the  work- 
manship, which  will  prevent  the  motion  of  her  wheels. 
Or  if  this  is  not  the  case,  the  power  of  the  machinery 
may  not  be  suflicient  to  propel  her  through  the  water 
with  such  force  as  to  overcome  the  current ;  or  she  may, 
when  brought  to  encounter  the  rapids  at  some  narrow 
passage  in  the  stream,  not  be  able  to  force  her  way 
against  their  resistance. 

The  engineer  therefore  resolves  to  try  her  in  all  these 


296  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    10. 

Efforts  of  the  engineer. 

respects,  that  her  security  and  her  power  may  be  pro- 
perly proved  before  she  is  intrusted  with  her  valuable 
cargo  of  human  lives.  He  cautiously  builds  a  fire  under 
her  boiler  ;  he  watches  with  eager  interest  the  rising  of 
the  steam-gage,  and  scrutinizes  every  part  of  the  ma- 
chinery as  it  gradually  comes  under  the  control  of  the 
tremendous  power  which  he  is  cautiously  applying.  With 
what  interest  does  he  observe  the  first  stroke  of  the  pon- 
derous piston  ! — and  when  at  length  the  fastenings  of  the 
boat  are  let  go,  and  the  motion  is  communicated  to  the 
wheels,  and  the  mighty  mass  slowly  moves  away  from 
the  wharf,  how  deep  and  eager  an  interest  does  he  feel 
in  all  her  movements  and  in  every  indication  he  can  dis- 
cover of  her  future  success  ! 

The  engine,  however,  works  imperfectly,  as  every  one 
must  on  its  first  trial;  and  the.object  in  this  experiment 
is  not  to  gratify  idle  curiosity  by  seeing  that  she  will 
move,  but  to  discover  and  remedy  every  little  imperfec- 
tion, and  to  remove  every  obstacle  which  prevents  more 
entire  success.  For  this  purpose  you  will  see  our  engi- 
neer examining,  most  minutely  and  most  attentively, 
every  part  of  her  complicated  machinery.  The  crowd 
on  the  wharf  may  be  simply  gazing  on  her  majestic  pro- 
gress as  she  moves  off  from  the  shore,  but  the  engineer 
is  within  looking  with  faithful  examination  into  all  the 
minutiae  of  the  motion.  He  scrutinizes  the  action  of 
every  lever  and  the  friction  of  every  joint ;  here  he  oils 
a  bearing,  there  he  tightens  a  nut;  one  part  of  the  ma- 
chinery has  too  much  play,  and  he  confines  it — another 
too  much  friction,  and  he  loosens  it ;  now  he  stops  the 
engine,  now  reverses  her  motion,  and  again  sends  the 
boat  forward  in  her  course.  He  discovers,  perhaps, 
some  great  improvement  of  which  she  is  susceptible, 
and  when  he  returns  to  the  wharf  and  has  extinguished 
her  fire,  he  orders  from  the  machine-shop  the  necessary 
alteration. 


Ch.   10.]  TRIAL    AND    DISCIPLINE.  297 

Improvements.  Final  results. 

The  next  day  he  puts  his  boat  to  the  trial  again,  and 
she  glides  over  the  water  more  smoothly  and  swiftly  than 
before.  The  jar  which  he  had  noticed  is  gone,  and  the 
friction  reduced  ;  the  beams  play  more  smoothly,  and 
the  alteration  which  he  has  made  produces  a  more  equa- 
ble motion  in  the  shaft,  or  gives  greater  effect  to  the 
stroke  of  the  paddles  upon  the  water. 

When  at  length  her  motion  is  such  as  to  satisfy  him, 
upon  the  smooth  surface  of  the  river,  he  turns  her  course, 
we  will  imagine,  toward  the  rapids,  to  see  how  she  will 
sustain  a  greater  trial.  Ashe  increases  her  steam,  to  give 
her  power  to  overcome  the  new  force  with  which  she  has 
to  contend,  he  watches,  with  eager  interest,  her  boiler, 
inspects  the  gage  and  the  safety-valves,  and  from  her 
movements  under  the  increased  pressure  of  her  steam  he 
receives  suggestions  for  further  improvements,  or  for 
precautions  which  will  insure  greater  safety.  These  he 
executes,  and  thus  he  perhaps  goes  on  for  many  days,  or 
even  weeks,  trying  and  examining,  for  the  purpose  of 
improvement,  every  working  of  that  mighty  power,  to 
which  he  knows  hundreds  of  lives  are  soon  to  be  intrust- 
ed. This  now  is  probation — trial  for  the  sake  of  improve- 
ment. And  what  are  its  results  ?  Why,  after  this  course 
has  been  thoroughly  and  faithfully  pursued,  this  floating 
palace  receives  upon  her  broad  deck,  and  in  her  carpet- 
ed and  curtained  cabins,  her  four  or  five  hundred  pas- 
sengers, who  pour  in,  in  one  long  procession  of  happy 
groups,  over  the  bridge  of  planks  ; — father  and  son — mo- 
ther and  children — young  husband  and  wi'*e — all  with 
implicit  confidence  trusting  themselves  and  their  dearest 
interests  to  her  power.  See  her  as  she  sails  away — how 
beautiful  and  yet  how  powerful  are  all  her  motions  ! 
That  beam  glides  up  and  down  gently  and  smoothly  in 
its  grooves,  and  yet  gentle  as  it  seems,  hundreds  of 
horses  could  not  hold  it  still ;  there  is  no  apparent  vio- 
lence, but  every  movement   is  withal  most  irresistible 

13* 


298  VOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    10. 

Her  power.  Safe  and  successful  action. 

power.  How  graceful  is  her  form,  and  yet  how  mighty 
is  the  momentum  with  which  slie  presses  on  her  way. 
Loaded  with  life,  and  herself  the  very  symbol  of  life  and 
power,  she  seems  something  ethereal — unreal,  which,  ere 
we  look  again,  will  have  vanished  away.  And  though  she 
has  within  her  bosom  a  furnace  glowing  with  furious 
fires,  and  a  reservoir  of  death — the  elements  of  most 
dreadful  ruin  and  conflagration — of  destruction  the  most 
complete,  and  agony  the  most  unutterable;  and  though 
her  strength  is  equal  to  the  united  energy  of  two  thousand 
men,  she  restrains  it  all.  She  was  constructed  by  genius, 
and  has  been  tried  and  improved  by  fidelity  and  skill; 
and  one  man  governs  and  controls  her,  stops  her  and  sets 
her  in  motion,  turns  her  this  way  and  that,  as  easily  and 
certainly  as  the  child  guides  the  gentle  lamb.  She  walks 
over  the  hundred  and  sixty  miles  of  her  route  without 
rest  and  without  fatigue,  and  the  passengers  who  have 
slept  in  safety  in  their  berths,  with  destruction  by  water 
without,  and  by  fire  witlun,  defended  only  by  a  plank 
from  the  one,  and  by  a  sheet  of  copper  from  the  other, 
land  at  the  appointed  time  in  safety. 

My  reader,  you  have  within  you  susceptibilities  and 
powers  of  which  you  have  little  present  conception, 
energies  which  are  hereafter  to  operate  in  producing  full- 
ness of  enjoyment  or  horrors  of  suffering  of  which  you 
now  but  little  conceive.  You  are  now  on  tiial.  God 
wishes  you  to  prepare  yourself  for  safe  and  happy  ac- 
tion. He  wishes  you  to  look  within,  to  examine  the 
complicated  movements  of  your  heart,  to  detect  what  is 
wrong,  to  modify  what  needs  change,  and  rectify  every 
irregular  motion.  You  go  out  to  try  your  moral  powers 
upon  the  stream  of  active  life,  and  then  return  to  retire- 
ment, to  improve  what  is  right  and  remedy  what  ig 
wrong.  Renewed  opportunities  of  moral  practice  are 
given  you,  tliat  you  may  go  on  from  strength  to  strength 
until  every  part  o.f  that  complicated  moral  machinery  oi 


Ch.  10.]  TRIAL    AND    DISCIPLINE.  299 

Life  a  time  of  (rial.  Trials  of  ciiildliood. 

which  the  human  heart  consists,  will  work  as  it  ought  to 
work,  and  is  prepared  to  accomplish  the  mighty  pur- 
poses for  which  your  powers  are  designed.  You  are  on 
trial — on  probation  now.  You  will  enter  upon  active 
service  in  another  world. 

In  order  however  that  the  reader  may  understand  fully 
the  views  to  be  presented  in  this  chapter,  I  wish  to  point 
out  particularly  the  diflerence  between  the  condition  of 
the  boat  I  have  described,  when  she  was  on  trial,  and 
when  she  was  afterward  in  actual  service.  While  she 
was  on  trial  she  sailed  this  way  and  that,  merely  for  the 
purpose  of  ascertaining  her  powers  and  her  deficiencies, 
in  order  that  the  former  might  be  inrreased,  and  the  lat- 
ter remedied.  The  engineer  steered  her  to  the  rapids, 
we  supposed  ;  but  it  was  not  because  he  particularly 
wished  to  pass  the  rapids,  but  only  to  try  the  power  of 
the  boat  upon  them.  Perhaps  with  the  same  design  he 
might  run  along  a  curved  or  indented  shore,  penetrating 
deep  into  creeks,  or  sweeping  swiftly  round  projecting 
head-lands  ;  and  this,  not  because  he  wishes  to  examine 
that  shore,  but  only  to  see  how  his  boat  will  obey  her 
helm.  Thus  he  goes  on  placing  her  again  and  again 
in  situations  of  difficulty,  for  the  purpose  simply  of  prov- 
ing her  powers,  and  enabling  him  to  perfect  the  opera- 
tion of  her  machinery.  Afterward,  when  she  comes  in- 
to actual  service,  when  she  has  received  her  load,  and  is 
transporting  it  to  its  place  of  destination,  the  object  is 
entirely  changed  ;  service,  not  improvement,  is  then  the 
aim.     Her  time  of  trial  is  ended. 

The  Bible  every  where  considers  this  world  as  one  of 
trial  and  discipline,  introductory  to  another  world  of 
actual  service.  A  child,  as  he  comes  forward  into  life, 
is  surrounded  with  difficulties  which  might  easily  have 
been  avoided  if  the  Ruler  over  all  had  wished  to  avoid 
them.  But  he  did  not.  That  child  is  on  trial— moral 
trial ;  and  just  exactly  as  the  helmsman  of  the  steam-boat 


300  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    10. 

The  child  and  the  forbidden  book.  Command. 

Steered  her  to  the  rapids  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  her 
into  difficulty,  so  does  God  arrange  in  such  a  manner  the 
circumstances  of  childhood  and  youth  as  to  bring  the 
individual  into  various  difficulties  which  will  try  his  mo- 
ral powers,  and,  if  the  child  does  his  duty,  be  the  means 
of  improving  them.  He  may  learn  contentment  and 
submission  by  the  thousand  disappointments  which  oc- 
cur, patience  and  fortitude  by  his  various  sufferings,  and 
perseverance  by  encountering  the  various  obstacles 
which  oppose  his  progress.  These  difficulties,  and  suf- 
ferings, and  obstacles  might  all  have  easily  been  avoided. 
God  might  have  so  formed  the  human  mind,  and  so  ar- 
ranged the  circiimstanreq  of  life,  that  every  thing  should 
have  gone  smoothly  with  us.  But  he  wishes  for  these 
things  as  trials — trials  for  the  sake  of  our  improvement ; 
and  he  has  filled  life  with  them,  from  the  cradle  to  the 
grave. 

To  obtain  a  vivid  idea  of  this,  let  us  look  at  this  little 
child.  She  is  just  able  to  walk  about  the  floor  of  her 
mother's  parlor,  and  though  her  life  is  full  of  sources  of 
happiness,  it  is  full  likewise  of  sources  of  disappoint- 
ment and  suffering.  A  moment  since  she  was  delighted 
with  a  plaything  which  her  mother  had  given  her,  but 
now  she  has  laid  it  aside,  and  is  advancing  toward  a  va- 
luable book  which  lies  upon  the  chair.  She  is  just  reach- 
ing out  her  little  arm  to  take  it,  when  she  is  arrested  by 
her  mother's  well  known  voice  : 

"  Mary  !  Mary  !  must  not  touch  the  book." 

A  child  as  young  as  this  will  understand  language 
though  she  cannot  use  it,  and  she  will  obey  commands. 
She  looks  steadily  at  her  mother  a  moment  with  an  in- 
quiang  gaze,  as  if  uncertain  whether  she  heard  aright. 
The  command  is  repeated : 

"  iVo,  Mary  must  not  touch  the  book." 

The  child,  I  will  suppose,  has  been  taught  to  obey,  but 
in  such  a  case  as  this  it  is  a  hard  duty.     Her  little  eyes 


Ch.   10.]  TRIAL    AND    DISCIPLINE.  301 

Pain.  Advantage  of  trial  in  childhood. 

fill  with  tears,  which  perhaps  she  makes  an  effort  to  drive 
away,  and  soon  seeks  amusement  elsewliere.  Now,  if 
such  a  child  has  been  managed  right,  she  will  be  improved 
by  such  a  trial.  The  principle  of  obedience  and  sub- 
mission will  have  been  strengthened  ;  it  will  be  easier  for 
her  to  yield  to  parental  command  on  the  next  occasion. 

But  see,  as  she  totters  along  back  to  her  mother,  she 
trips  over  her  little  cricket  and  falls  to  the  floor.  The 
terror  and  pain,  though  we  should  only  smile  at  it,  are 
sufficient  to  overwhelm  her  entirely.  Her  mother  gently 
raises  her,  tries  to  soothe  her,  and  soon  you  can  distinctly 
perceive  that  the  child  is  struggling  to  repress  her  emo- 
tions. Her  sobs  arc  gradually  restrained,  the  tears  flow 
less  freely,  and  soon  the  sunshine  of  a  smile  breaks  over 
her  face,  and  she  jumps  down  again  to  play.  This  now 
has  been  a  useful  trial;  pain  and  fright  has  once  been 
conquered,  and  it  will  have  less  power  over  her  in  future. 

But  though  there  is  a  real  and  most  important  benefit 
to  be  derived  from  these  trials  of  infancy,  the  child  her- 
self cannot  understand  it.  No  child  can  become  pre- 
pared for  the  future  duties  of  life  without  them,  and  yet 
no  child,  of  sucTi  an  age,  can  understand  why  they  are 
necessary.  The  mother  might  say  to  her,  in  attempting 
to  explain  it,  as  follows  : 

"  Mary,  I  might  save  you  from  all  these  difficulties  and 
troubles  if  I  chose.  I  might  put  you  in  a  room  where 
every  thing  was  cushioned  so  that  you  could  not  hurt  your- 
self, and  I  might  keep  carefully  out  of  your  sight  every 
article  which  you  ought  not  to  have.  Thus  you  might  be 
saved  all  your  pains  and  disappointments.  But  I  choose 
not  to  do  this.  I  want  you  to  becom.e  useful  and  happy 
hereafter,  and  so  you  must  learn  submission,  and  patience, 
and  fortitude  now.  So  I  leave  the  book  in  the  chair, 
where  you  can  see  it,  and  tell  you  you  must  not  touch 
it ;  and  I  leave  you  to  fall  a  little  now  and  then,  for  the 
pain  only  lasts  a  moment.   But  if  you  try  to  conquer  your 


302  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [CIl.    9. 

Pulling  playthings  out  of  reach.  Conversation  with  a  mother. 

fears  and  bear  the  pain  patiently,  it  will  do  you  lasting 
good  ;  your  character  will  acquire  firmness  and  vigor, 
anJ  you  will  thus  be  prepared  for  the  duties  of  future 
life." 

The  child  now  would  not  understand  all  this,  but  it 
would  be  true,  whether  she  should  understand  it  or  not, 
and  the  judicious  mother,  who  knows  what  is  the  design 
of  education  and  the  manner  in  which  children  are  to  be 
trained  up  to  future  duty,  will  not  be  sorry  to  have  her 
children  repeatedly  tried.  These  repeated  trials  are  the 
very  means  of  forming  their  characters,  and  were  it  pos- 
sible to  avoid  them  entirely,  instead  of  meeting  and  con- 
quering them,  the  child,  exposed  to  such  a  course  of 
treatment,  would  be  ruined.  Sometimes  parents  seem  to 
make  efforts  to  avoid  them,  and  in  going  into  such  a 
family  you  will  find  the  shovel  and  tongs,  perhaps,  placed 
upon  the  mantelpiece,  so  that  the  children  cannot  touch 
them,  and  the  motlier  will  not  dare  to  bring  a  plate  of 
cake  into  the  room  for  fear  that  they  should  cry  for  it.  In- 
stead of  accustoming  them  to  trials  of  this  kind,  and 
teaching  them  obedience  and  submission,  she  makes  a 
vain  effort  to  remove  all  occasion  for  the  exercise  of  self- 
denial.  If,  perchance,  these  remarks  are  read  by  any 
mother  who  feels  that  she  is  pursuing  the  course  which 
they  condemn,  I  would  stop  a  m.oment  to  say  to  her  as 
follows ; 

Do  5^ou  expect  that  you  can  govern  your  children  for 
fifteen  years  to  come  in  this  way?  Can  you  put  every 
thing,  which,  during  all  this  period,  they  shall  want, 
which  they  ought  not  to  have,  upon  the  mantelpiece,  as 
you  do  the  shovel  and  tongs? 

*' No,"  you  reply  smiling,  "I  do  not  expect  to  do  it. 
My  child  will  soon  become  older,  and  then  I  can  teach 
him  obedience  more  easily.'* 

You  never  can  teach  him  obedience  so  easily  as  when 
he  is  first  able  to  understand  a  simple  command,  and 


Ch.   10.]  TRIAL    AND    DISCIPLINE.  803 

Trials  not  to  be  sliunned. 

that  is  long  before  he  is  able  to  walk.  And  there  is  no 
way  by  which  obedience  and  submission  can  be  so  effectu- 
ally taught  to  child  or  to  man  as  by  actual  trial.  That 
is  the  way  in  which  God  teaches  it  to  you,  and  that  is  the 
way  you  ought  to  teach  it  to  your  child.  God  never 
puts  sin  away  out  of  our  reach  ;l  he  leaves  it  all  around 
us,  and  teaches  us  by  actual  trial  to  resist  its  calls. 

"I  know  this  is  right,"  you  reply;  "but  sometimes  I 
am  busy — I  am  engaged  in  important  duties,  and  do  not 
wish  to  be  interrupted  ;  and  on  such  occasions  I  remove 
improper  playthings  out  of  the  reach  of  my  child,  be- 
cause, just  then,  I  have  not  time  to  teach  him  a  lesson  of 
obedience." 

But  what  important  business  is  that  which  you  put  into 
competition  with  the  whole  character  and  happiness  of 
your  child  ?  If  your  sons  or  your  daughters  grow  up  in 
habits  of  disobedience  to  your  commands,  they  will  em- 
bitter your  life,  and  bring  down  your  gray  hairs  with  sor- 
row to  the  grave.  You  never  can  gain  an  ascendancy  over 
them  so  easily  as  in  infancy — and  you  cannot  in-  any  other 
way  so  effectually  undermine  your  power,  and  prevent 
your  ever  obtaining  an  ascendancy  over  them,  as  by  ac- 
customing them  in  childhood  to  understand  that,  in  your 
endeavors  to  keep  them  from  doing  what  is  wrong,  you 
do  not  aim  at  strengthening  their  own  moral  principle, 
and  accustoming  them  to  meet  and  to  resist  the  ordinary 
temptations  of  life,  but  that  you  depend  upon  a  vain  effort 
to  remove  them  entirely  away  from  trial ;  so  that  if  you 
could  succeed,  you  render  it  equally  impossille  for  them 
to  do  right  or  wrong. 

Yes  ;  trial  is  essential  in  childhood,  and  God  has  so 
arranged  the  circumstances  of  early  life,  that  parents  can- 
not evade  it.  It  must  come.  It  may  be  removed  in  a 
very  few  cases,  but  that  only  brings  additional  difficulty 
upon  those  that  remain  ;  and  it  is  far  better  not  to  attempt 
to  evade  it  at  all.     Come  up  then,  parents,  boldly  to  the 


304  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   10. 

Instruction  and  practice. 

work  of  accustoming  your  children  to  trial.  If  you  see  a 
child  going  toward  an  open  door,  do  not  run  to  shut  it 
so  that  he  cannot  go  out ;  command  him  not  to  go,  and 
enforce  obedience  ;  if  you  do  any  thing  to  the  door  at  all, 
throw  it  wide  open,  and  say  mildly,  "  I  will  see  whether 
you  will  disobey."  Do  not  put  the  book  or  the  paper 
which  you  wish  him  not  to  touch  high  upon  a  shelf,  away 
from  his  reach  ;  if  you  cliange  its  place  at  all,  lay  it  upon 
the  floor,  and  tell  him  not  to  touch  it.  Remember  that 
youth  is  a  season  of  probation  and  trial,  and  unless  you 
avail  yourself  of  the  opportunities  of  probation  and  trial 
which  it  presents,  you  lose  half  the  advantages  which  the 
Creator  had  in  view  in  arranging  the  circumstances  of 
childhood  as  he  has. 

Now  the  whole  of  life  is,  equally  with  the  years  of 
childhood,  a  time  of  probation  and  trial — it  is  filled  up 
with  difficulties  and  obstacles,  and  sources  of  slight  dis- 
appointment and  suffering,  for  the  very  purpose  of  try- 
ing and  increasing  our  moral  strength.  And  all  these 
things  arc,  or  may  be,  sources  of  enjoyment.  They  will 
be  sources  of  enjoyment  if  we  take  the  right  view  of  them, 
as  I  shall  explain  more  fully  hereafter.  God  has  so  ar- 
ranged it,  that  we  have,  in  passing  through  life,  a  speci- 
men of  almost  every  sort  of  moral  difTiculty  ;  and  every 
moral  power  of  the  heart  may  be  brought  into  active  ex- 
<^rcise,  and  cherished  and  strengthened  by  the  t  Iai,if  the 
opportunity  is  rightly  improved. 

God  has  therefore  made  a  double  provision  for  the 
moral  growth  of  men.  First,  he  has  given  us  instruction 
in  our  duty  in  the  Bible  ;  and  secondly,  he  has  given  us 
opportunity  to  practise  in  the  various  difficulties  and  du- 
ties of  life.  The  Bible  is  full  and  complete  as  a  book  of 
directions.  Human  life  is  full  and  complete  as  a  field  for 
practice.  The  best  parade  ground  for  drilling  and  disci- 
plining an  army  would  not  be  a  smooth  and  level  plain, 
but  an  irregular  region,  diversified  with  hills  and  plains, 


Ch.   10.]  TRIAL    AND    DISCIPLINE.  306 

The  merchant's  plan  for  his  son.  A  voyage  of  difficulty. 

where  the  inexperienced  army  might  practise  every  evo 
lution — now  passing  a  defile,  now  ascending  an  acclivity, 
now  constructing  and  crossing  abridge.  So  human  life, 
to  answer  the  purposes  intended  as  a  field  for  m.oral  ex- 
ercise, must  have  a  variety  of  difficulties,  to  enable  us  to 
practise  every  virtue,  and  to  bring  into  active  requisition 
every  right  principle  of  heart. 

A  wealthy  man,  I  will  suppose,  engaged  in  commercial 
pursuits  in  a  great  city,  wished  to  prepare  his  son  to  ma- 
nage his  business  when  he  should  be  old  enough  to  take 
charge  of  it.  He  accordingly  gave  him  a  thorough  com- 
mercial education  in  school  ;  but  before  he  received  him 
into  his  partnership,  he  thought  it  would  be  necessary  to 
give  him  some  practical  knowledge  of  his  future  duties. 

"  My  son,"  says  he  to  himself,  "  is  now  theoretically 
acquainted  with  all  which  is  necessary,  but  he  wants  the 
readiness,  and  the  firmness,  and  the  confidence  of  prac- 
tice. To  complete  his  education  I  will  give  him  a  tho- 
rough trial.  I  will  fit  out  a  small  vessel,  and  let  him  take 
charge  of  her  cargo.  I  will  so  plan  the  voyage,  that  it 
shall  embrace  an  unusual  share  of  difficulty  and  trial ;  for 
my  very  design  is  to  give  him  practical  knowledge  and 
skill,  which  come  only  through  such  a  trial." 

He  accordingly  fits  out  his  ship.  He  thinks  very  little 
of  the  success  of  the  voyage  in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view, 
because  that  is  not  his  object.  He  rejects  one  port  of 
destination,  because  it  is  too  near ;  another,  because  the 
passage  to  it  is  short  and  direct ;  and  another,  because  the 
disposal  of  a  cargo  there  is  attended  with  no  difficulty. 
He  at  last  thinks  of  a  voyage  which  will  answer  his  de- 
sign. The  passage  lies  through  a  stormy  sea.  Rocks 
and  quicksands,  and  perhaps  pirates,  fill  it  with  dangers. 
The  port  at  which  he  will  arrive  is  one  distinguished  by 
the  intricacy  of  its  government-regulations.  His  son  is  a 
stranger  to  the  language  of  the  country,  and  a  great  dis- 
cretionary power  will  be  necessary  in  the  selection  of  a 


306  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   10. 

Its  design.  Its  effects, 

return  cargo.  This,  says  the  merchant,  is  exactly  the 
place.  This  voyage  will  comprehend  more  difficulties, 
and  dangers,  and  trials  than  any  other,  and  will,  accord- 
ingly, be  exactly  the  thing  for  my  son. 

Perhaps  you  may  say  a  father  would  not  form  such  a 
design  as  this — he  would  not  expose  his  son  to  so  many 
difficulties  and  dangers.  I  know  he  might  not  go  as  far 
as  I  have  represented,  but  the  reason  why  he  would  not, 
would  be  because  he  might  be  afraid  that  some  of  these 
dangers  would  overpower  the  young  man  entirely.  He 
would  not  send  him  among  rocks  and  whirlpools,  for  in* 
stance,  for  the  sake  of  getting  him  into  danger,  because 
he  would  fear  that  that  danger  might  result  in  death.  If, 
however,  he  could  be  sure  of  ultimate  safety — if,  for  ex- 
ample, he  could,  as  our  great  Father  in  heaven  can,  go 
along  with  his  boy,  and,  though  imseen  and  imheard,  keep 
constantly  at  his  side  in  every  danger,  with  power  to 
bring  eflectual  protection — if  earthly  fathers  had  such 
power  as  this,  there  would  be  a  thousand  who  would  take 
the  course  I  have  described.  They  would  see  that  there 
could  be  nothing  so  well  calculated  to  give  maturity  and 
efficiency  to  the  character,  and  to  prepare  the  young  man 
for  persevering  fidelity  and  eminent  success  in  his  future 
business,  as  such  a  discipline  as  this. 

The  young  man  at  length  sets  sail.  He  understands 
the  object  of  his  father  in  planning  the  voyage,  and  he 
goes  with  a  cordial.desirc  of  making  it  the  means  of  pro- 
moting his  improvement  as  far  as  possible.  Instead  of 
being  sorry  that  a  plan  embracing  so  many  difficulties 
and  trials  had  been  chosen  for  him,  he  rejoices  in  it.  He 
certainly  would  rejoice  in  it,  if  he  had  confidence  in  his 
father's  protection.  When  he  comes  into  the  stormy 
ocean  through  which  he  has  to  pass,  instead  of  murmur- 
ing at  the  agitated  sea  and  gloomy  sky,  he  stands  upon 
the  deck,  riding  from  billow  to  billow,  thinking  of  his 
father's  presence   and   confiding  in  his   protection,  and 


Ch.   10.]  TRIAL    AND    DISCIPLINE.  307 


The  usea  of  trial. 


growing  in  moral  strength  and  fortitude  every  hour. 
The  gale  increases,  and  the  fury  of  the  storm  tries  his 
nerve  to  the  utmost ;  but  he  does  not  regret  its  violence, 
or  wish  to  quiet  a  single  surge.  He  knovi^s  that  it  is  his 
trial^und  he  rejoices  in  it,  and  when  through  his  increas- 
ing moral  strength  he  has  triumphed  over  its  power,  he 
stands  contemplating  its  fury  with  a  spirit  quiet  and  un- 
disturbed. At  length  the  wind  lulls  ;  the  clouds  break 
away,  and  the  bright  rays  of  the  setting  sun  beam  upon 
the  dripping  sails  and  rigging.  The  waves  subside — a 
steady  breeze  carries  the  ship  forward  smoothly  on  her 
course  ;  and  he  who  has  been  enduring  the  discipline  of 
the  scene  feels  that  he  has  made  progress — that  he  has 
taken  one  step  toward  the  accomplishment  of  the  object 
of  his  voyage. 

Christian  !  God  has  planned  just  such  a  voyage  for 
you.  He  has  filled  it  with  difficulties  and  trials,  that  you 
may,  by  means  of  them,  discipline  and  perfect  all  your 
moral  powers.  When  therefore  the  dark,  gloomy  storm 
rises  upon  you,  and  night  shuts  in,  and  danger  presses, 
and  5'our  heart  feels  itself  burdened  with  a  load  which  it 
can  scarcely  sustain,  never  repine  at  it.  Think  how  near 
is  your  protector.  Confide  in  him,  and  remember  that 
your  present  voyage  is  one  of  trial, 

2.  THE  USES  OF  TRIAL. 

I  thrak  it  must  be  very  evident  to  all  who  have  read 
what  I  have  already  written  upon  this  subje  :t,  that  it  is 
of  immense  advantage  to  moral  beings,  who  are  to  be 
trained  up  to  virtue,  and  to  firmness  of  principle  and  of 
character,  that  they  should  not  only  receive  instruction 
in  duty,  but  that  they  should  be  thus  put  upon  trial,  to 
acquire  by  actual  experience  a  firm  and  steady  habit  of 
correct  moral  action.    This  can,  however,  be  made  more 


308  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   10. 


Self-knowledge. 


clear,  if  I  analyze  more  particularly  the  effects  of  such 
trial  upon  the  heart. 

1.  It  enables  us  to  know  ourselves.  People  never 
know  their  own  characters  till  they  are  tried.  We  very 
often  condemn  very  severely  other  persons  for  doing 
what,  if  we  had  been  placed  in  their  circumstances,  we 
should  have  done  ourselves.  "  Ye  know  not  what  spirit 
ye  are  of,"  said  the  Savior.  Very  iew  persons  know 
what  spirit  they  are  of,  until  an  hour  of  temptation  brings 
forth  the  latent  propensities  of  the  heart  into  action.  How 
will  a  revengeful  spirit  slumber  in  a  man's  bosom,  and  his 
face  be  covered  with  smiles  till  some  slight  insult  or  in- 
dignity calls  it  forth,  and  makes  him  at  once  the  victim  of 
ungovernable  passion  !  Yes  ;  trial  reveals  to  us  our  true 
character. 

It  brings  to  light  the  traits  of  Christian  character  which 
would  not  be  understood  at  all  without  it.  I  have  a  case 
in  mind,  which  I  will  describe,  which  is  a  very  common 
case,  precisely  as  I  describe  it  here  ;  so  common,  that 
very  probably  a  great  many  of  my  readers  may  consider 
it  as  their  own. 

A  Christian  mother  had  an  only  child  whom  she  ar- 
dently loved.  The  mother  was  an  influential  member  of 
the  church,  and  was  ardently  interested  in  maintaining  a 
high  Christian  character,  and  in  studying,  faithfully  and 
perseveringly,  religious  truth.  She  became  much  inte- 
rested in  the  view  which  the  Bible  presents  of  the  Divine 
Sovereignty  ;  she  used  to  dwell  with  delight  upon  the 
contemplation  of  God's  universal  power  over  all ;  she 
used  to  rejoice,  as  she  thought,  in  his  entire  authority 
over  her ;  she  took  pleasure  in  reflecting  that  she  was 
completely  in  his  hands,  soul  and  body,  for  time  and  for 
eternity,  and  she  wondered  that  any  person  could  find 
any  soMrce  of  diflficulty  or  embarrassment  in  the  Scrip- 
ture representations  on  this  subject. 

But  she  did  not  know  her  heart.     Her  beloved  child 


Ch.  10.]  TRIAL    AND    DISCIPLINE.  300 

The  deceived  mother.  The  engineer  was  watchful, 

was  sick — and  she  stood  anxious  and  agitated  over  her 
pillow,  very  far  from  showing  a  cordial  willingness  tliat 
God  should  rule.  She  was  afraid,  very  much  afraid,  that 
her  child  would  die.  Instead  of  having  that  practical  be- 
lief in  the  divine  sovereignty,  and  that  cordial  confidence 
fn  God,  which  would  have  given  her  in  this  trying  hour 
a  calm  and  happy  acquiescence  in  the  divine  will,  she 
was  restless  and  uneasy — her  soul  had  no  peace,  morning 
or  night.  Her  daughter  sunk,  by  a  progress  which  was 
slow,  but  irresistible,  to  the  grave,  and  for  weeks  that 
mother  was  in  utter  misery  because  she  could  not  find  it 
in  her  heart  to  submit  to  the  divine  will.  She  had  believ 
ed  in  the  universal  power  of  God  as  a  theoretical  truth  ; 
she  had  seen  its  abstract  beauty  ;  she  thought  she  rejoiced 
in  God's  superintending  power,  but  it  was  only  while  all 
went  well  with  her ;  as  soon  as  God  began  to  exercise 
that  power  which  she  had  so  cordially  acknowledged  and 
rejoiced  in,  in  a  way  which  was  painful  to  her,  her  heart 
rose  against  it  in  a  moment,  and  would  not  submit.  The 
trial  brought  out  to  her  view  her  true  feelings  in  regard 
to  the  absolute  and  unbounded  authority  of  God.  Now, 
there  is  a  great  deal  of  such  acquiescence  in  God's  do- 
minion as  this  in  the  world,  and  a  great  deal  of  it  is  ex- 
posed by  trial  every  day. 

The  case  of  the  steam  engine,  which  I  supposed  at  the 
commencement  of  this  chapter,  illustrates  this  part  of  my 
subject  exactly.  The  engineer  tried  the  boat  for  the  pur- 
pose of  learning  fully  the  character  and  operation  of  her 
machinery.  Though  he  had  actually  himself  superin- 
tended the  construction  of  every  part  of  the  work,  he 
could  not  fully  understand  the  character  and  the  power 
of  the  machine  until  he  had  tried  it.  While  the  experi- 
ment was  making,  he  was  watching  every  movement  with 
a  most  scrutinizing  eye ;  he  discovered  faults,  or  defi- 
ciencies, or  imperfections,  which  nothing^  but  actual  trial 
could  have  revealed. 


310  YOUNG     CHRISTIAN.  t^^^-    ^^' 

The  Christian  boy  going  lo  school. 


It  is  on  exactly  the  same  principle  that  discipline  and 
trial  is  useful,  to  enable  us  fully  to  understand  our  clia- 
raclers  ;  and  in  order  to  avail  ourselves  of  this  advan- 
tage, we  should  watch  ourselves  most  carefully,  wlien 
placed  in  any  new  or  untried  situation,  to  see  how  our 
moral  powers  are  aflected  by  it.  We  must  notice  every 
imperfuclion  and  every  deficiency  which  th  trial  brings 
•o  our  view. 

2.  Discipline  and  trial  arc  the  'tncans  of  improvement. 
Besides  giving  us  an  insight  into  our  characters,  they 
will,  if  properly  improved,  enable  us  to  advance  in  the 
attainment  of  every  excellence.  I  ought  however,  per- 
haps, to  say  they  may  he  made  the  means  of  improve- 
ment, rather  than  that  they  actually  will  be  so.  The 
steam-boat  was  in  a  better  condition  after  the  first  day's 
trial  than  before  ;  but  it  was  because  the  engineer  was 
attentive  and  walcliful,  doing  his  utmost  to  avail  Iiimself 
cf  every  opportunity  to  increase  the  smoothness  and  the 
power  of  her  motion.      So  with  liuman  trials. 

See  yonder  cliild  going  to  school.  His  slate  is  under 
liis  arm,  and  he  is  going  this  day  to  make  an  attempt  to 
understand  long  division.  He  is  young,  and  the  les- 
son, though  it  may  seem  simple  to  us,  is  difTicult  to  him. 
He  knows  what  diniculty  and  perplexity  is  before  him, 
and  he  would,  perhaps,  under  ordinary  circumstances, 
shrink  from  the  hard  task.  But  he  is  a  Christian.  He 
lias  asked  forgiveness  for  his  past  sins  in  the  name  of 
Jesus  Christ,  and  is  endeavoring  to  live  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  please  his  Father  above.  He  knows  that  God  might 
easily  have  formed  his  inind  so  tliat  mathematical  truths 
and  processes  might  be  plain  to  liim  at  once,  and  that  he 
has  not  done  so,  for  the  very  purpose  of  giving  him  a  use- 
ful discipline  by  the  trial  which  the  effort  to  learn  neces- 
sarily brings. 

He  says  therefore  to  himself  as  he  walks  along  to  hia 
school-room,   "  My  lesson  to-day  is  not  only  to  do  this 


Ch.     10.]  TIUAL    ANI>    DI.SCIPMNK.  311 

The  moral  anil  arilhmelical  question. 


Hum,  but  lo  learn  to  ho  {)ati(;nl  and  fuilliful  in  duty,  and  I 
muHt  learn  the  arilhrnclical  and  the  moral  lesson  tcjgeliier. 
1  will  try  to  do  it.  I  will  begin  my  work,  looking  to  (jod 
for  help,  and  I  will  go  on  through  it,  if  I  can,  with  a  calm 
and  (|niet  sjiiril,  so  as  to  learn  not  only  to  diDidn  a  num- 
ber, but  to  persevere  in  duty.'*''  With  this  spirit  he  sits 
down  to  his  work,  and  watches  himself  narrowly,  that  he 
may  check  every  rising  of  impatience,  and  obtain,  by 
means  of  the  very  diflicullies  that  now  try  him,  a  greater 
self  command  than  he  (;ver  before  possessed.  In  fact  he 
takes  a  strong  interest  in  tiic  very  difrutiilty,  because  he 
is  interested  in  the  moral  experiment  which  it  enables 
him  to  make. 

Now,  when  such  a  spirit  as  this  is  cherished,  and  the 
mind  is  under  its  influence  in  all  the  diflicullies  and  trialH 
of  life,  how  rapidly  must  the  heart  af.vance  in  every  ex- 
cellence !  There  certainly  can  be  no  way  by  wliicli  a 
young  person  can  so  efl^ectually  acquire  a  palierjt  and 
persevering  spirit,  as  by  meeting  real  diflicuUies  with 
such  a  slate  of  mind  as  I  have  described.  They  who 
liave  been  trained  in  the  hard  school  of  diflficully  and 
trial,  almost  always  possess  a  firmness  of  character  which 
it  is  vain  t(j  lo.ik  for  elsewhere.  There  must,  liowever, 
be  efhjrl  on  the  [)art  of  the  individual  to  improve  the 
trial,  or  he  will  grow  worse  instead  of  belter  by  it. 
Learning  sim[)le  division  in  schools  is,  j:)erhaps,  as  often 
a  means  of  promoting  an  impatient  and  fretful  spirit  as 
the  contrary.  Il  is  the  disposition  on  the  [>irt  of  the  in- 
dividual that  determines  which  efl'et't  is  to  be  the  result. 
Some  men,  by  the  misfortunes  and  crosses  of  life,  arc 
made  misant}iro[)es ;  others,  by  the  same  disaj>j)oint- 
ments  and  sufleririgs,  are  made  humble  and  hapf>y  (chris- 
tians, with  feelings  kindly  disposed  toward  their  fellow 
men,  and  calmly  submissive  toward  God. 

The  object,   then,  whicii  the  Creator  had   in    view   in 
arranging  the  circumstances  of  probation  and  discipline 


312  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.     10- 

Practical  directions. 

in  which  we  are  placed,  is  two-fold  :  That  we  may  un- 
derstand, and  that  we  may  improve  our  characters.  We 
are  to  learn  different  lessons  from  the  diflerent  circum- 
stances and  situations  in  which  we  are  placed,  but  we  are 
to  learn  some  lesson  from  all.  God  might  easily  have 
so  formed  the  earth,  and  so  arranged  our  connection  with 
it,  as  to  save  us  all  the  vicissitudes,  and  trials,  and  changes 
which  we  now  experience.  But  he  has  made  this  world 
a  state  of  discipline  and  trial  for  us,  that  we  may  have 
constant  opportunities  to  call  into  active  exercise  every 
Cliristian  grace.  The  future  world  is  the  home  for  which 
v»e  are  intended,  and  we  are  placed  on  trial  here,  that  we 
may  prepare  for  it ;  and  the  suffering  and  sorrow  which 
we  experience  on  the  way  are  small  evils,  compared  to 
fhe  glorious  results  which  we  may  hope  for  there.  But 
I  must  come  to  the  practical  directions  which  I  intended 
to  present. 

1.  Consider  every  thing  that  befalls  you  as  coming  iu 
the  providence  of  God,  and  intended  as  a  part  of  the  sys- 
tem of  discipline  and  trial  through  which  you  are  to  pass. 
This  will  help  you  to  bear  every  thing  patiently.  An 
irreligious  man  is  on  a  journey  requiring  special  haste, 
and  finds  himself  delayed  by  bad  traveling  or  stormy 
weather,  until  a  steam-boat,  whicli  he  had  intended  to  have 
taken,  has  sailed,  and  left  him  behind.  He  spends  the 
twenty-four  hours  during  which  he  has  to  wait  for  the 
next  boat,  in  fretting  and  worrying  himself  over  his  dis- 
appointment— in  useless  complaints  against  the  driver  for 
not  having  brought  him  on  more  rapidly — in  wishing  that 
the  weather  or  the  traveling  had  been  better — or  in  think- 
ing how  much  his  business  must  suffer  by  the  delay. 
The  Christian,  on  the  other  hand,  hears  the  intelligence, 
that  the  boat  has  left  him,  with  a  quiet  spirit ;  and  even 
if  he  was  hastening  to  the  bedside  of  a  dying  child,  he 
would  spend  the  intervening  day  in  composure  and 
peace,  saying,   "  The  Lord  has  ordered  this.    It  is  to  try 


Ch.   10.]  TRIAL    AND    DISCIPLINE.  313 

God's  providence  universal.  Losses  of  every  kind  from  God. 

me.  Heavenly  Father,  give  me  grace  to  stand  the  trial." 
I  say,  the  Christian  would  feel  thus  ;  I  sliould,  perhaps, 
have  said,  he  ought  to  feel  thus.  Christians  are  very 
much  accustomed  to  consider  all  the  great  trials  and  suf- 
ferings of  life  as  coming  from  God,  and  as  intended  to 
try  them,  but  they  fret  and  vex  themselves  unceasingly, 
in  regard  to  the  little  difficulties  which,  in  the  ordinary 
walk  of  life,  they  have  to  encoiiuLer — especially  in  what 
is  connected  with  the  misconduct  of  others.  You  lend  a 
valuable  book,  and  it  is  returned  to  you  spoiled :  the 
prints  are  soiled  and  worn  ;  the  leaves  are  turned  down  in 
some  places,  and  loosened  in  others ;  the  binding  is  de- 
faced, and  the  back  is  broken.  Now  you  ought  not  to 
stand  looking  at  your  spoiled  volume,  lamenting  again 
and  again  the  misfortune,  and  making  yourself  miserable 
for  hours  by  your  fretfulness  and  displeasure  against  the 
individual  who  was  its  cause.  He  was  indeed  to  blame, 
but  if  you  did  your  duty  in  lending  the  book,  as  without 
doubt  you  did,  you  are  in  no  sense  responsible,  and  you 
do  wrong  to  make  yourself  miserable  about  it.  The  oc- 
currence comes  to  you  in  the  providence  of  God,  and  is 
intended  as  a  trial.  He  watches  you  to  see  how  you 
bear  it.  If  you  meet  it  with  a  proper  spirit,  and  learn 
the  lesson  of  patience  and  forbearance  which  it  brings, 
that  spoiled  book  will  do  you  more  good  than  any  splendid 
volume  crowded  witl:  prints,  adorned  with  gilded  bind- 
ing, and  preserved  in  a  locked  cabinet  for  you  for  twenty 
years. 

So  with  loss  of  every  kind,  whether  it  comes  in  the 
foim  of  a  broken  piece  of  china  or  a  counterfeit  ten-dol- 
lar bill  found  in  the  pocket-book,  or  the  loss  of  your 
whole  property  by  the  misfortunes  of  a  partner  or  the 
pressure  of  the  times.  No  matter  what  is  the  magnitude 
or  the  smallness  of  the  loss — no  matter  whether  it  comes 
from  the  culpable  negligence  or  fraud  of  another,  or  more 
directly  from  God,  through  the  medium  of  flood  or  fire, 

14 


314  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Cil.    10- 

The  careless  engineer. 

or  the  lightning  of  heaven  ;  so  far  as  it  is  a  loss  affecting- 
you,  it  comes  in  the  providence  of  God,  and  is  intended 
as  a  trial.  If  you  are  really  interested  in  what  ought  to 
be  the  great  business  of  life,  your  growth  in  grace,  you 
will  find  that  such  trials  will  help  you  to  understand  your 
own  heart,  and  to  train  it  up  to  a  proper  action  under  the 
government  of  God,  more  than  any  thing  beside. 

2.  Make  it  your  aim  to  be  continually  learning  the  les- 
sons which  God  by  these  various  trials  is  endeavoring  to 
teach  you.  Every  day  is  a  day  of  discipline  and  trial. 
Ask  yourself  every  night  then,  "Wh-at  progress  have  I 
made  to-day  ?"  Suppose  the  engineer,  in  the  case  of  the 
steam-boat  on  trial,  to  which  I  have  several  times  alluded, 
had  neglected  altogether  the  oi)eration  of  the  machinery 
when  his  boat  was  first  put  to  the  test.  Suj»pose  that  in- 
stead of  examining  minutely  and  carefully  the  structure 
and  the  action  of  the  parts,  with  a  view  to  removing  dif- 
ficulties, rectifying  defects,  and  supplying  deficiencies,  he 
had  been  seated  quietly  upon  the  deck  enjoying  the  sail. 
He  might  have  been  gazing  at  the  scenery  of  the  shore, 
or  in  vanity  and  self-complacency  enjoying  the  admira- 
tion which  he  imagined  those  who  stood  upon  the  wharf 
were  feeling  for  the  degree  of  success  which  he  had  al- 
ready attained.  While  he  is  thus  neglecting  his  duty, 
evils  without  number,  and  fraught  with  incalculable  con- 
sequences, are  working  below.  The  defects  in  his  ma- 
chinery are  not  discovered  and  not  remedied  ;  its  weak- 
nesses remain  unobserved  and  unrepaired  ;  and  if  at  last 
there  should  be  intrusted  to  his  care  valuable  property, 
nothing  can  reasonably  be  expected  but  its  destruction. 

Multitudes  of  men,  and  even  great  numbers  of  those 
who  call  themselves  Christians,  act  the  part  of  this  infa- 
tuated engineer.  God  tells  them  that  their  moral  powers 
are  now  on  trial.  He  commands  them  to  consider  it  their 
business  here  not  to  be  engrossed  in  the  objects  of  inte- 
rest which  surround  them  as  they  pass  on  through  life, 


Ch.    10.]  TRIAL    AND    DISCIPLINE.  315 

Neglect  of  duty.  Concluding  remarks. 

nor  to  be  satisfied  with  present  attuinments  of  any  kind, 
but  to  consider  themselves  as  sailing  now  in  troubled  wa- 
ters for  the  purpose  of  trial  and  improvement;  to  watch 
themselves  with  constant  self-examination,  and  with  ho- 
nest efibrts  to  rectify  what  is  wrong  and  to  supply  what 
is  deficient.  He  requires  them  to  consider  all  the  cir- 
cumstances and  occurrences  of  life  as  coming  from  him, 
and  as  arranged  with  express  reference  to  the  attainment 
of  these  objects.  Notwithstanding  all  this,  however,  they 
neglect  the  duty  altogether.  They  do  not  watch  them- 
selves. They  do  not  habitually  and  practically  regard  the 
events  of  life  as  means  to  enable  them  to  understand  their 
hearts,  to  strengthen,  by  constant  exercise,  moral  princi- 
ple, and  to  grow  in  grace.  Instead  of  this,  the)^  are  en- 
gaged in  simply  endeavoring  to  secure  as  much  present 
good  in  this  w^orld  as  they  can,  and  can  see  no  good  ia 
any  trial  and  get  no  good  from  it.  When  they  are  sick, 
they  spend  the  time  in  longing  to  get  well.  When  they 
are  disappointed,  they  make  themselves  miserable  by 
useless  lamentations.  Losses  bring  endless  regrets,  and 
injuries  impatience  and  anger,  and  thus  half  of  life  is 
spent  in  struggles  which  are  really  the  vain  and  hopeless 
struggles  of  a  weak  man  to  get  free  from  the  authority 
and  government  of  God. 

I  have  now  completed  what  I  intended  to  present  on 
the  subject  of  probation  ;  and  I  think  that  aP  my  readers 
will  easily  see,  that  by  taking  such  a  view  of  life  as  this 
subject  presents  to  us,  the  whole  aspect  of  our  residence 
in  this  world  is  at  once  changed.  If  you  really  feel  what 
I  have  been  endeavoring  to  explain,  you  will  regard  your- 
selves as  strangers  and  pilgrims  here,  looking  continual- 
ly forward  to  another  country  as  your  home.  The  thou- 
sand trials  and  troubles  of  life  will  lose  half  their  weight 
by  your  regarding  them  in  their  true  light,  that  is,  as 
means  of  moral  discipline  and  improvement.     You  must, 


316  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    If. 

General  improvement  a  Christian  duty. 

however,  make  a  constant  effort  to  do  tliis.  Make  it  a 
part  of  your  daily  sclf-exaiiiinatlon  not  only  to  ascertain 
what  is  the  state  of  your  heart  at  the  time  of  retirement^ 
but  to  review  the  incidents  of  the  day,  and  to  see  how 
they  have  operated  upon  you  as  means  of  moral  disci- 
pline. See  what  traits  of  character  those  incidents  have 
brought  to  your  view,  and  what  effect  they  have  had  ia 
making  you  worse  or  belter  than  you  were  in  the  morn- 
ing. The  little  events  and  circumstances  of  every  day 
must  liave  a  very  important  influence  of  one  kind  or  of 
the  other.  If  you  neglect  this  influence,  it  will  ail  go 
wrong.  If  you  attend  to  it,  it  may  go  well  and  happily 
with  you  wherever  you  may  be. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT. 


"  The  path  of  the  just  is  as  the  shining  light,  which  shineth  more 
and  more  unto  the  perfect  day," 

The  chapters  which  the  reader  has  just  perused  are 
on  subjects  connected  with  the  improvement  of  the  cha- 
racter :  i.  e.  they  are  upon  the  means  by  whicli  this  im- 
provement is  to  be  promoted.  Studying  the  Bible,  keep- 
ing the  Sabbath,  and  exposure  to  discipline,  are  all  intend- 
ed to  be  means  for  the  promotion  of  a  moral  progress. 
There  are  some  things,  however,  which  I  wish  to  say  in 
regard  to  the  character  itself  as  it  goes  on  in  the  process 
of  improvement.  Reader!  do  5^ou  wish  to  avail  yourself 
of  the  opportunities  and  means  I  have  described?  Do 
you  wish  to  study  the  Bible,  remember  the  Sabbath,  and 
improve  all  the  occurrences  of  life,  as  the  means  of  pro- 
moting your  progress  in  all  that  is  good  ?  If  so,  look  now 


Ch.     11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  317 


Moral  improvement.  Faults.  The  vain  bo^  . 

with  me  a  little  while  into  your  character  itself,  that  you 
may  see  in  what  respect  it  needs  your  attention,  and  in 
what  way  you  can  so  employ  the  means  I  have  describ- 
ed as  to  gain  the  fullest  benefit  from  them.  As  I  think 
that  every  young  Cliristian  ought  most  assiduously  to 
cultivate  his  moral,  and  also  his  intellectual  powers,  I 
ehall  discuss  in  order  both  these  points. 

I.    MORAL    IMPROVEMENT. 

Every  young  Christian  will  find,  however  sincerely  and 
ardently  he  may  have  given  up  his  heart  to  God  and 
commenced  a  life  of  piety,  that  a  vast  number  o(  faults 
remain  to  be  corrected — faults  which  he  acquired  while 
he  lived  in  sin,  and  which  the  force  of  habit  have  fixed 
upon  him.  Now  you  know  what  these  faults  are,  or  you 
may  very  easily  karn,  and  your  first  effort  is  to  correct 
them. 

In  order  now  to  make  clear  the  course  which  I  think 
ought  to  be  taken  to  correct  such  faults,  I  will  suppose 
a  case,  and  bring  into  it  the  various  methods  which  may- 
be adopted  for  this  purpose ;  and  I  shall  write  the  ac- 
count with  a  double  aspect — one  toward  parents,  with 
the  design  of  showing  them  what  sort  of  efforts  they 
ought  to  make  to  correct  the  faults  of  their  children,  and 
the  other  tov/ard  the  young,  to  show  what  measures 
they  should  adopt  to  improve  themselves. 

First,  however,  I  will  mention  a  very  common,  but  a 
very  ineffectual  mode  of  attempting  to  correct  faults.  A 
father  sees  in  his  son  some  exhibition  of  childish  vanity, 
and  he  says  to  him  instantly,  at  the  very  time  of  the  oc- 
currence, "You  are  acting  in  a  very  foolish  manner.  You 
show  a  great  deal  of  vanity  and  self-conceit  by  such  con- 
duct; and  in  fact  I  have  observed  that  you  are  growing 
very  vain  for  some  months  past ;  I  don't  know  what  we 
shall  do  to  correct  it," 


318  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    11. 

V  ay  to  reform  him.  Conversation  with  his  father. 

The  poor  boy  hangs  his  head  and  looks  ashamed,  and 
his  father,  talking  about  it  a  few  minutes  longer  in  a  half 
irritated  tone,  dismisses  and  forgets  the  subject.  The  boy 
refrains,  perhaps,  from  that  particular  exhibition  of  va- 
nity for  a  little  while,  and  that  is  probably  all  the  good 
which  results  from  the  reproof. 

Anotlier  wiser  parent  sees  with  regret  the  rising  spi- 
rit of  self-conceit  in  his  son  ;  and  instead  of  rushing  on 
to  attack  it  without  plan  or  design  at  the  first  momenta- 
ry impulse,  he  resorts  to  a  very  different  course.  He 
notices  several  cases — remembers  them — reflects  that  the 
evil,  which  has  been  forming  perhaps  for  years,  cannot 
be  corrected  by  a  single  abrupt  reproof — and  according- 
ly forms  a  plan  for  a  protracted  moral  discipline  in  the 
case,  and  then  seeks  a  favorable  opportunity  to  execute  it. 

One  day,  after  the  father  has  been  granting  some  un- 
usual indulgence,  and  they  have  spent  the  day  happily 
together  in  some  plan  of  enjoyment,  and  are  riding  home 
slowly  in  a  pleasant  summer  evening,  he  thus  addresses 
his  son : 

"Well,  Samuel,  you  have  been  a  good  boy,  and  we 
have  had  a  pleasant  time.  Now  I  am  going  to  give  you 
something  to  do,  which,  if  you  do  it  right,  will  wind  up 
the  day  very  pleasantly." 

"  What  is  it?"  says  Samuel. 

"  I  am  not  certain  that  it  will  please  you,  but  you  may 
do  as  you  choose  about  undertaking  it.  It  will  not  be 
pleasant  at  first;  the  enjoyment  will  come  afterward." 

Samuel.  "  But  what  is  it,  father?  I  think  I  shall  like  to 
do  it." 

Father.  "  Do  you  think  you  have  any  faults,  Samuel  ?" 

S.  "  Yes,  sir,  I  know  I  have  a  great  many." 

F.  "  Yes,  you  have  ;  and  all  boys  have.  Some  wish 
to  correct  them,  and  others  do  not.  Now  I  have  sup- 
posed that  you  do  wish  to  correct  them,  and  I  had  thought 
of  describing  to  you  one  of  your  faults,  and  then  telling 


Ch.  11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  319 

Instances  of  vanity. 

you  of  a  particular  thinfr  which  you  can  do  which  will 
help  you  to  correct  it.  But  then  it  will  not  be  very 
pleasant  for  you  to  sit  here  and  have  me  lind  fault  with 
you,  and  mention  a  number  of  instances  in  which  you 
have  done  wrong,  and  particularize  all  the  little  circum- 
stances which  increased  the  guilt;  this,  I  say,  will  not 
be  very  pleasant,  even  though  you  know  that  my  design 
is  not  to  blame  yon,  but  to  help  you  improve.  But  then 
if  you  undertake  it,  and  after  a  little  while  find  that  you 
are  really  improving,  then'  you  v/ill  feel  happier  for  the 
cflbrt.  Now  I  wish  you  to  consider  both,  and  tell  jne 
whether  you  wish  me  to  give  you  a  fault  to  correct  or 
not." 

•  If  the  boy  now  has  been  under  a  kind,  and  gentle,  but 
efficient  government,  he  will  almost  certainly  desire  to 
have  the  fault,  and  the  way  by  which  he  is  to  correct  it, 
pointed  out.     If  so,  the  father  may  proceed  as  follows  : 

**The  fault  I  am  going  to  mention  now,  is  vanity.  Now 
it  is  right  for  you  to  desire  my  approbation.  It  is  right 
for  you  not  only  to  do  your  duty,  but  to  wish  that  others 
should  know  that  you  do  it.  I  think  too,  it  is  right  for 
you  to  take  pleasure  in  reflecting  on  your  improvement, 
as  you  go  on  improving  from  year  to  year.  But  when 
you  fancy  your  improvement  to  be  greater  than  it  is,  or 
imagine  that  you  have  excellencies,  which  you  possess 
in  a  very  slight  degree,  or  when  you  obtru.de  some  trifling 
honor  upon  the  notice  of  strangers  for  the  sake  of  get- 
ting their  admiration,  yon  exhibit  vanity.  Now,  did  you 
know  that  you  had  this  fault?" 

S.  "I  do  not  know  that  I  have  thought  of  it  particu- 
larly.    I  suppose  though  that  I  do  have  it." 

F.  "Your  having  the  fault  now  is  of  very  little  con- 
sequence, if  you  only  take  hold  of  it  in  earnest  and  cor- 
rect it.  It  has  grown  up  with  you  insensibly ;  in  fact, 
almost  all  children  fall  into  it.  I  presume  that  I  had  it 
as  much  as  you  have,  when  I  was  as  young.  Do  you  think 


320  YOUNG   CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  11. 

The  boy's  list.  Effect  of  this  confession. 

now  that  you  can  recollect  any  cases  in  which  you  have 
shown  vanity?" 

S.  I  don't  know  ;  perhaps  I  could  if  I  should  have  a 
little  time.'' 

F.  "  Well,  I  will  give  you  time  to  think,  and  if  you 
really  wish  to  correct  yourself  of  the  fault,  you  may  think 
of  all  the  cases  you  can,  and  tell  me  of  them.  If  you 
prefer  it,  you  may  write  the  list  and  show  it  to  me.'' 

Now,  if  the  subject  is  taken  up  in  this  spirit,  most  boys, 
who  had  been  treated  on  these  principles  before,  would 
receive  the  communication  with  pleasure,  and  would 
engage  with  interest  in  the  work  of  exploring  the  heart. 
And  such  a  boy  will  succeed.  He  will  bring  a  list  of 
instances,  not  perhaps  fully  detailed,  but  alluded  to  dis- 
tinctly enough  to  recall  them  to  mind.  His  list  might 
be  perhaps  something  as  follows  : 

'*Dear  Father, — '*  I  have  made  out  a  list  of  the  times 
in  which  I  was  vain,  and  I  now  send  it  to  you. 

*'  1.  I  brought  out  my  writing-book  a  few  evenings 
since,  when  some  company  was  here,  in  hopes  they  would 
ask  to  see  it. 

*'  2.  I  said  yesterday  at  table,  that  there  was  something 
in  the  lesson  which  none  of  the  boys  could  recite  until 
it  came  to  me,  and  I  recited  it. 

"3.  I  pretended  to  talk  Latin  with  George  when  walk- 
ing, thinking  that  you  and  the  other  gentlemen  would 
overhear  it. 

"  I  suppose  I  could  think  of  many  other  cases  if  I 
had  time.  I  am  glad  you  told  me  of  the  fault,  for  I  think 
it  a  very  foolish  one,  and  I  wish  to  correct  it. 

"  Your  dutiful  son.  ." 

Now,  let  me  ask  every  one  of  my  readers  who  has  any 
knowledge  of  human  nature,  whether,  if  the  effort  of  the 
father  to  correct  this  fault  should  stop  here,  a  most  pow- 


C'h.    11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  331 


Secret  conlession  to  be  minuie. 


€rful  blow  would  not  have  been  struck.  Do  you  think 
that  a  boy  can  make  such  a  self-examination,  and  con- 
fess freely  his  faults  in  this  manner,  without  making  a 
real  progress  in  forsaking  them  ?  Can  he  as  easily,  after 
this,  attempt  to  display  his  accomplishments,  or  talk  of 
his  exploits? 

The  process  ought  not  to  stop  here,  but  this  is  thehrst 
step ;  confession — full,  free,  and  particular  confession. 
In  the  first  cliapter  I  described  the  power  of  confession 
to  restore  peace  of  mind,  after  it  is  lost  by  sin  ;  and  in  al- 
luding to  the  subject  of  confession  again  here,  it  will  be 
seen  that  I  look  to  another  aspect  of  it,  viz.  its  tendency 
to  promote  reformation.  It  is  in  this  latter  respect  only 
that  I  consider  it  now. 

The  first  step  then  which  any  of  you  are  to  take  in 
order  to  break  the  chains  of  any  sinful  habit  which  you 
have  formed,  is  to  confess  it  fully  and  freely.  That  sin- 
gle act  will  do  more  to  give  your  fault  its  death  blow, 
than  almost  any  thing  else  you  can  do.  If  you  are  a 
child,  you  can  derive  great  assistance  from  confessing  to 
your  parents.  If  you  shrink  from  talking  with  them  face 
to  face  about  your  follies  and  faults,  you  can  write.  Or 
confess,  and  express  your  determination  to  amend,  to 
some  confidential  friend  of  your  own  age  ;  but  above  all, 
be  sure  to  confess  to  God  ;  lay  the  whole  case  before 
him  in  full  detail.  I  cannot  press  upon  you  too  fully  the 
necessity  of  being  distinct  and  defnitCy  and  going  into 
full  detail,  in  these  confessions. 

There  is  one  very  erroneous  impression  which  young 
persons  receive  from  hearing  public  prayer.  It  is  alway, 
as  it  ought  to  be,  general  in  its  language,  both  of  con 
fession  and  request.  Take  for  instance  the  following 
language  of  the  prayer  book  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church,  so  admirably  adapted  to  its  purpose  : 

"  We  have  erred  and  strayed  from  thy  ways  like  lost 
sheep.    We  have  followed  too  much  the  devices  and  de- 

14* 


322  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   IL 

Secret  prayer  often  too  general. 

sires  of  our  own  hearts.  We  liave  offended  against  thy 
holy  laws.  We  have  left  undone  those  things  which  we 
ought  to  have  done  ;  and  we  have  done  tt^ose  things 
which  we  ought  not  to  have  done  ;  and  there  is  no  health 
in  us." 

How  general  is  this  language.  It  is  so  with  our  Sa- 
vior's model  of  prayer  !  "  Forgive  us  our  debts,  as  we 
forgive  those  who  are  indebted  to  us."  Public  prayer 
ought  to  he  somewhat  general  in  its  expressions,  for  it  is 
the  united  voice  often  of  thousands,  and  should  express 
acknowledgments  and  petitions  which  are  common  to 
them  all. 

But  the  mistake  that  multitudes  fall  into  is,  that  when 
they  begin  to  pray  themselves,  they  take  public  prayer  as 
the  model  for  secret  supplication  ;  and  they'spend  their 
season  of  retirement  in  repeating  the  same  general  sup- 
plications which  they  liear  irom  the  pulpit  in  the  hour 
of  public  worship.  But  this  is  a  very  great  error.  The 
very  object  of  secret  prayer  is  to  afford  the  soul  an  op- 
portunity of  going  minutely  into  its  own  particular  and 
private  case.  There  is  no  magic  in  solitude,  no  myste- 
rious influence  in  the  closet  itself,  to  purify  and  sanctify 
the  heart.  It  is  the  opportunity  which  the  closet  affords 
of  bringing  forward  the  individual  case  in  all  its  par- 
ticularity and  detail,  which  gives  to  secret  devotion  its 
immense  moral  power.  The  general  and  comprehensive 
language  which  is  adopted  in  public  prayer,  is  thus  adopt- 
ed because  it  is  the  object  of  public  prayer  to  express 
only  those  wants,  and  to  confess  those  sins,  which  are 
common  to  all  who  join  in  it.  The  language  must  ne- 
cessarily therefore  be  general.  But  it  is  always  the  in- 
tention of  those  who  use  it,  that  minute  detail  should  be 
given  in  private  supplications.  In  the  prayer  of  the 
Episcopal  church,  for  example,  the  evening  prayer  for 
families  is  printed  thus  : 


Ch.   11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  323 

Way  to  make  prayer  interesting.  Formal  confession. 

"  We  come  before  thee  in  an  humble 
•  "Here  let  him     gense  of  our  unworthiness,  acknowledge 
tcho  reads  make  a      .  •/•ii.  •  /.,i 

short  pause,  that  '"^  ^"^  manifold  transgressions  of  thy 
ivcry  oue  m«t/  con-  I'lghteous  laws.*  But  O,  gracious  Fa- 
fess  the  sins  and  ther,  who  desirest  not  the  death  of  a 
faUings  of  that  sinner,  look  upon  us,  we  beseech  thee, 
"^'  in  mercV)  and  forgive  us  all  our  trans- 

gressions." 

Here  you  will  observe  that  on  the  margin  it  is  suggest- 
ed that  this  entering  into  detail  should  be  done  even  in 
the  family  worship.  How  much  more  when  the  indivi- 
dual has  retired  alone,  for  the  very  purpose  of  bringing 
forward  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  his  own  case  ! 

This  is  the  only  way  to  make  secret  prayer  interest- 
ing, as  well  as  profitable.  A  child,  just  before  retiring  to 
rest,  attempts  to  pray.  He  uses  substantially  the  expres- 
sions which  he  has  heard  in  the  pulpit :  "  I  acknowledge 
that  I  am  a  great  sinner.  I  have  done  this  day  many 
things  which  are  wrong ;  I  have  neglected  many  duties, 
and  broken  many  of  thy  commands."  Now  how  easy  is 
it  for  a  person  to  say  all  this  with  apparent  fervor,  and 
yet  have  present  to  his  mind  while  saying  it,  no  one  act 
in  which  he  really  feels  that  he  has  done  wrong,  and 
consequently  no  distinct  mental  feeling  that  he  is  guilty  ! 
Our  confessions,  half  of  the  time,  amount  to  nothing  more 
than  a  general  acknowledgment  of  the  doctrine  of  human 
depravity.  "  I  humbly  confess  that  I  have  been  a  great 
sinner  this  day,"  says  a  Christian  at  his  evening  prayer, 
and  while  he  says  it,  the  real  state  of  his  mind  is,  *'  I  sup 
pose  I  must  have  been  so.  All  men  are  sinners,  and  I 
know  I  am."  As  to  any  distinct  and  definite  feeling  ol 
personal  guilty  it  is  often  the  farthest  from  the  mind 
while  using  such  language. 

It  is  astonishing  how  easily  and  how  soon  we  become 
habituated  to  the  general  language  of  confession,  so  as 


324  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    11. 

Excuses.      Way  to  make  secret  prayer  interesting.      Private  prayer. 

to  use  it  most  freely  without  any  sense  of  personal  guilt. 
A  parent  will  reprove  a  boy  for  a  fault,  and  the  boy  will, 
as  the  father  goes  over  the  details,  defend  and  excuse 
himself  at  every  step.  Here  he  will  lay  off  the  blame 
upon  his  brother — there  he  will  say  he  did  not  know 
what  else  to  do — and  in  another  respect  he  will  say  that 
he  tried  to  do  as  well  as  he  could.  And  yet,  after  he  has 
finished  all  this,  he  will  say  gravely,  '*  But  I  do  not  pre- 
tend to  excuse  myself.  I  know  I  have  done  wrong."  I 
have  had  such  cases  occur  continually  in  the  manage- 
ment of  the  young. 

But  do  not  forget  what  is  the  subject  of  this  chapter. 
It  is  the  means  of  correcting  faults,  and  as  the  first 
means,  I  am  describing  full  and  particular  confession  of 
the  sins  you  wish  to  avoid  in  future.  Before  I  go  on, 
however,  I  wish  to  say  one  thing  in  regard  to  the  effect 
of  going  into  minute  detail  in  prayer.  It  is  the  only  way 
to  make  prayer  interesting.  When  you  come  at  night, 
with  a  mind  wearied  and  exhausted  with  the  labors  of 
the  day,  to  your  h'jur  of  retirement,  you  find  your 
thoughts  wandering  in  prayer.  No  complaint  is  more 
common  than  this.  There  is  scarcely  any  question 
which  is  asked  more  frequently  of  a  pastor  than  this  : 
"How  shall  I  avoid  the  sin  of  wandering  thoughts  in 
prayer?"  It  would  be  asked,  too,  much  oftener  than  it 
is,  were  it  not  that  Christians  shrink  from  acknowledg- 
ing to  their  religious  teachers  a  fault  which  seems  to  im- 
ply their  want  of  interest  in  spiritual  things.  Now  the 
remedy  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  is,  coming  to  particulars 
in  your  prayers.  Have  no  long  formal  exordiums.  Aban- 
don the  common  phrases  of  general  confession  and  re- 
quest, and  come  at  once  to  the  particular  circum- 
stances and  minute  wants  and  trials  of  the  day.  De- 
scribe not  only  particular  faults,  but  all  the  minute  at- 
tending circumstances.  Feel  that  you  are  alone  ;  that 
the  restraints  of  publicity  are  removed  from  you;  that 


Ch.    il.]  PEIiSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  325 

Examples  of  minute  confession. 


you  may  safely  abandon  the  prirascology  and  the  form 
which  a  proper  respect  for  the  customs  of  men  retains  in 
the  pulpit  and  at  the  family  altar,  and  eome  and  converse 
with  your  great  Protector,  as  a  man  converses  with  his 
friend ;  and  remember  that  if  you  fasten  upon  one  word 
which  you  have  spoken  with  an  improper  spirit,  and  con- 
fess your  guilt  in  that  one  sin,  mentioning  all  the  circum- 
stances which  gave  it  its  true  character,  and  exposing  the 
wicked  emotions  which  dictated  it,  you  make  more  truly 
a  confession  than  by  repeating  solemnly  the  best  expres- 
sion of  the  doctrine  of  human  depravity  that  creed,  or 
catechism,  or  system  of  theology  ever  gave. 

But  to  return  to  the  modes  of  correcting  faults.  If 
your  fault  is  one  which  long  habit  has  riveted  very 
closely  upon  you,  I  would  recommend  that  you  confess 
it  in  writing ;  it  is  more  distinct,  and  what  you  put  upon 
paper  you  impress  very  strongly  upon  your  mind.  Sup- 
pose when  evening  comes,  in  reflecting  upon  the  events 
of  the  day,  you  remember  an  act  of  unkindness  to  a 
younger  brother.  Now,  sit  down  and  write  a  full  de- 
scription of  it,  and  make  it  appear  in  its  true  light.  Do 
not  exaggerate  it,  nor  extenuate  it,  but  paint  it  in  its  true 
colors.  Express  your  sorrow,  if  you  feel  any,  and  ex- 
press just  as  much  as  you  feel.  Be  honest.  Use  no  cant 
phrase  of  acknowledgment,  but  just  put  upon  paper  your 
actual  feelings  in  regard  to  the  transaction.  Now,  after 
you  have  done  this,  you  may,  if  you  please,  just  fold  up 
the  paper  and  put  it  into  the  fire;  but  you  cannot  put 
into  the  fire  the  vivid  impression  of  your  guilt  which  this 
mode  of  confession  will  produce.  Or  you  may,  if  you 
prefer  it,  preserve  it  for  a  time,  that  you  may  read.it 
again,  and  renew  the  impression  before  you  destroy  it. 
But  it  will  b-e  better  to  destroy  it  at  last.  It  is  not  in 
human  nature  to  write  its  thoughts  in  such  a  case,  with 
the  intention  of  preserving  the  record,  without  being  se- 


326  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  11. 

"  The  Father's  letter. 

cretly  influenced  by  the  probability  that  the  description 
will  sooner  or  later  be  seen. 

But  I  must  pass  to  the  second  step  in  the  progress  of 
removing  a  fault.  It  is  watchfulness.  Suppose  that  the 
father,  in  the  case  which  I  have  imagined,  in  order  to 
illustrate  this  subject,  should  say  to  his  son,  or  which 
would  be  better  still,  should  write  to  him  as  follows  : 

**  My  dear  Son, — I  received  your  account  of  the  in 
stances  in  which  you  have  shown  vanity.  I  am  very  glad 
you  are  disposed  to  correct  yourself  of  this  fault,  and  will 
now  tell  you  what  you  are  to  do  next. 

"  You  would  without  doubt,  if  you  had  had  time, 
thought  of  many  more  instances,  but  you  would  not  have 
thought  of  all  ;  a  great  many  would  have  escaped  your 
notice.  You  show  vanity  many  times  when  tjou  do  not 
know  it  yourself.  When  we  are  habituated  to  doing  any 
thing  wrong,  we  becom.e  blinded  by  it,  so  that  the  vain- 
est people  in  the  world  scarcely  know  that  they  are  vain 
at  all.  Now,  the  next  step  you  arc  t'o  take  is  to  regain 
moral  sensibility  on  this  subject,  so  as  to  know  clearly 
what  vanity  is,  and  always  to  notice  when  you  are  guilty 
of  it.  The  way  to  do  this  is  for  you  to  watch  yourself. 
Notice  your  conduct  for  two  days,  and  whenever  you  de- 
tect yourself  displaying  vanity  on  any  occasion,  go  and 
make  a  memorandum  of  it.  You  need  not  write  a  full 
description  of  it,  for  you  would  frequently  not  have  time  ; 
but  write  enough  to  remind  you  of  it,  and  then  at  the  end 
of  the  two  days  send  the  list  to  me.  In  the  meantime 
I  will  observe  you,  and  if  I  see  any  instances  of  this  fault 
I  will  remember  them,  and  see  if  I  recollect  any  which 
you  have  not  marked  down. 

"  It  will  not  be  very  pleasant,  my  son,  to  watch  your- 
self thus  for  faults,  but  it  is  the  most  eflTectual  means  of 
removing  them.  You  may,  however,  do  just  as  you  please 
about  adopting  this  plan.  If  you  adopt  it,  send  your  cata- 


Ch.   11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  321' 

Object  of  this  illustration.  Faults  to  be  corrected. 

logue  to  me  ;  if  you  do  not,  you  need  not  say  any  thing 
about  it. 

"Your  affectionate  parent, ." 

Now  I  wish  my  young  readers  to  understand,  that 
though  I  have  described  fully  this  case,  partly  with  a  de- 
sign to  show  to  parents  a  good  way  to  lead  their  children 
to  virtue,  yet  my  main  design  is  to  explain  to  the  young 
a  course  which  they  may  take  themselves  immediately 
to  correct  their  faults.  I  am  in  hopes  that  many  a  one 
who  reads  this  chapter  will  say  to  himself,  "  I  have  some 
faults  which  I  should  like  to  correct,  and  I  will  try  this 
experiment."  I  wish  you  would  try  the  experiment ; 
you  all  know  what  your  faults  are.  One  can  remember 
that  he  is  very  often  undutiful  or  disrespectful  to  his  pa- 
rents. Another  is  aware  that  she  is  not  always  kind  to 
her  sister.  Another  is  irritable — often  gets  in  a  passion. 
Another  is  forward  and  talkative  ;  her  friends  have  often 
reproved  her,  but  she  has  never  made  any  real  systema- 
tic effort  to  reform.  Another  is  indolent — often  neglect- 
ing known  duties  and  wasting  time.  Thus  every  person 
under  twenty-five  years  of  age  is  the  victim  of  some  mo- 
ral disease,  from  which,  though  they  may  be  Christians, 
they  are  not  fully  freed.  Now  just  try  my  prescription. 
Take  the  two  steps  which  I  have  described  ;  confess  ful- 
ly and  minutely  the  particular  fault  which  you  wish  first 
to  correct — for  it  is  best  to  attack  one  enemy  at  a  time 
— and  then  with  careful  watchfulness  keep  a  record  of 
your  subsequent  transgressions.  You  cannot  do  this  with 
a  proper  spirit  of  dependance  on  God  and  accountability 
to  him,  without  breaking  the  chains  of  any  fault  or  any 
habit  which  may  now  be  domineering  over  you.  The  effi- 
cacy of  such  moral  treatment  in  these  moral  diseases  is  far 
more  certain  and  powerful  than  that  of  any  cordial  in  re- 
storing the  fainting  powers.  I  hope  therefore  that  every 
young  person  who  reads  this  will  not  merely  express  a 


328  YODNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   11 

Young  and  old  persons. 

cool  approbation  of  these  plans,  but  will  resolutely  set  to 
work  in  examining  his  character,  and  in  trying  these  me- 
thods of  altering  or  improving  it. 

*'  Every  young  person  ? — And  why  not  those  who  are 
not  young  ?"  says  some  one.  '*  Why  cannot  the  old  cor- 
rect their  faults  in  this  way  ?"  They  can,  but  they  will 
not.  I  recommend  it  exclusively  to  the  young,  not  be- 
cause it  is  less  efficacious  with  others,  but  because  others 
will  not  cordially  try  it.  The  difficulty  which  prevents 
middle-aged  persons  going  on  as  rapidly  as  the  young  in 
improvement  of  every  kind,  is  that  they  are  not  so  easily 
induced  to  make  the  effort.  It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose 
that  it  is  easier  for  a  child  to  reform  its  character  than  for 
a  man,  if  the  same  efforts  were  made.  A  child  is  told  of 
his  faults  ;  the  politeness  of  society  forbids  mentioning 
them  to  a  man.  A  cliild  is  encouraged  and  urged  forward 
in  efforts  to  improve  ;  the  man  is  solitary  in  his  resolu- 
tions and  unaided  in  his  efforts.  A  child  is  willing  to  do 
any  thing.  Confession  is  not  so  humiliati*ig  to  it ;  keep- 
ing a  catalogue  of  its  sins  is  not  so  shrunk  from.  If  the 
man  of  fifty  is  willing  to  do  what  the  boy  of  fifteen  does, 
he  may  improve  twice  as  fast.  Some  of  the  most  re- 
markable cases  of  rapid  alteration  and  improvement  of 
character  which  I  have  ever  known  have  been  in  the  de- 
cline of  age. 

Let  me  say  therefore  respectfully  to  those  who  may 
chance  to  read  this  book,  but  who  are  beyond  the  age  for 
whicli  it  is  specially  intended,  that  we  all  have  faults 
which  we  ought  to  discover  and  attempt  to  mend.  They 
affect  our  happiness.  They  bring  us  down  lower  than 
we  should  otherwise  stand  in  the  estimation  of  others. 
Thus  they  impede  our  influence  and  usefulness.  If  we 
would  now  explore  and  correct  these,  taking  some  such 
thorough-going  course  as  I  have  described,  how  rapidly 
we  should  at  once  rise  in  usefulness  and  happiness !    In- 


Ch.  11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  329 

Conversation  between  the  boy  and  his  friend. 

stead  of  that,  however,  we  listen  to  moral  and  religious 
instruction  from  the  pulpit,  to  admire  the  form  of  its  ex- 
pression, or  perhaps  to  fix  the  general  principles  in  our 
hearts ;  but  the  business  of  exploring  thoroughly  our  own 
characters  to  ascertain  their  real  condition,  and  going 
earnestly  to  work  upon  all  the  detail  of  actual  and  minute 
repair — pulling  down  in  this  place,  building  up  in  that, 
and  altering  in  the  other — ah  !  this  is  a  business  with 
which,  beyond  twenty-five,  we  have  but  little  to  do. 

But  I  must  go  on  with  my  account  of  the  means  of  cor- 
recting faults,  for  I  have  one  more  expedient  to  describe. 
I  have  been  digressing  a  little  to  urge  you  to  apply  prac- 
tically what  I  say  to  yourselves,  and  resolve  to  try  the  ex- 
periment. This  one  more  expedient  relates  to  your  ex- 
posure to  temptation.  In  regard  to  temptation  you  have 
I  think  two  duties.  First,  to  avoid  all  great  temptations ; 
and  secondly,  to  encounter  the  small  ones  wnth  a  deter- 
mination, by  God's  blessing,  to  conquer  them. 

A  boy  knows,  I  Avill  imagine,  that  he  has  an  irritable 
spirit ;  he  wishes  to  cure  himself  of  it.  I  will  suppose 
that  he  has  taken  the  two  steps  I  have  already  described, 
and  now  as  the  morning  comes,  and  he  is  about  to  go 
forth  to  the  exposures  of  the  day,  we  may  suppose  him  to 
hold  the  following  conversation  with  his  father,  or  some 
other  friend. 

Boy.  "  I  have  made  a  great  many  resolutions,  and  I 
am  really  desirous  of  not  becoming  angry  and  impatient 
to-day.  But  I  always  do,  and  I  am  afraid  I  always  shall." 

Friend.  "Do  you  always?  Do  you  get  angry  every 
day  r 

Boy.  *'  I  do  almost  always  ;  whenever  any  thing  hap- 
pens to  vex  me." 

Friend.  "  "What  are  the  most  common  things  that 
happen  to  vex  you  V* 

"Why  I  almost  always  get  angry  playing  marbles. 


330  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    11. 


Great  and  small  temptations. 


George  doesn't  play  fair,  and  I  get  angry  with  him,  and 
he  gets  angry  with  me." 

"Do  you  always  get  angry  playing  marbles?" 

*'  We  do  very  often." 
•  **  Then  I  advise  you  to  avoid  playing  marbles  alto- 
gether. I  know  you  like  to  play,  but  if  you  find  it  af- 
fords too  great  a  temptation  for  you  to  resist,  you  must 
abandon  it,  or  you  will  not  cure  yourself  of  your  fault. 
What  other  temptations  do  you  have?" 

*'  Why  I  get  put  out  with  my  sums  at  school." 

**  Get  put  out  with  your  sums ! — What  do  you  mean  by 
that?" 

•'  Why  I  get  impatient  and  vexed  because  I  cannot  do 
them,  and  then  I  get  angry  with  them." 

*'  What,  with  the  sums  /" 

*'  Yes  ;  with  the  sums,  and  the  book,  and  the  slate,  and 
every  thing  else  ;  I  know  it  is  very  foolish  and  wicked." 

Well ;  now  I  advise  you  to  take  your  slate  and  pencil 
lo-day,  and  find  some  difficult  sum,  such  an  one  as  you 
have  often  been  angry  with,  and  sit  down  calmly  to  work, 
and  see  if  you  cannot  go  through  it,  and/az'Z  of  doing  it, 
and  yet  not  feel  vexed  and  angry.  Think  before  you  be- 
gin, how  sad  it  is  for  you  to  be  under  the  control  of  wick- 
ed passions,  and  ask  God  to  help  you,  and  then  go  on  ex- 
pecting to  find  difficulty  and  endeavoring  to  meet  it  with 
a  calm  and  patient  spirit.  If  you  succeed  in  this,  you 
will  really  improve  while  you  do  it.  By  gaining  one 
victory  over  yourself  you  will  make  another  more  easy." 

"  Which  do  you  think  is  the  greatest  temptation  for 
you,  to  play  marbles  or  to  do  sums?" 

*'  Why,  I  think  playing  marbles,  because  the  boys  don't 
play  fair." 

"  Well ;  now  I  wish  you  to  practice  the  easiest  lesson 
first.  Conquer  yourself  in  your  arithmetical  temptation 
first,  and  then  perhaps  you  can  encounter  the  other.  And 
I  wish  you  would  watch  yourself  to-day,  and  observe 


Ch.     11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  351 

Great  and  small  temptations.  Growing  in  grace. 

what  are  the  trials  which  are  too  great  for  you  to  bear,  and 
avoid  them  until  you  have  acquired  more  moral  strength. 
But  do  not  flee  from  any  temptation  which  you  think  you 
can  resist.  By  meeting  and  resisting  it,  you  will  advance 
in  your  course." 

Now  this  is  the  case  in  the  correction  of  all  faults.  The 
temptations  which  you  think  you  will  not  be  successful 
in  resisting,  you  ought  to  avoid,  no  matter  at  what  sacri- 
fice ;  and  though  you  ought  not  to  seek  the  trial  of  your 
strength,  yet  where  Providence  gives  you  trial,  go  for- 
v/ard  to  the  effort  which  it  requires  with  confidence  in 
his  help,  and  witli  resolution  to  do  your  duty.  If  you 
have  the  right  spirit,  he  will  help  you  ;  and  virtuous  prin- 
ciple will  grow  by  any  exposure  which  does  not  over- 
power it. 

I  have  however  spoken  more  fully  on  this  subject  in 
the  chapter  of  discipline  and  trial,  where  the  general  ef- 
fect of  such  discipline  as  we  have  here  to  pass  through 
was  pointed  out.  I  have  here  only  alluded  to  it  again,  to 
show  how  important  an  auxiliary  it  is  in  the  correction  of 
particular  faults. 

But  I  must  pass  to  the  consideration  of  anothev  yart  of 
my  subject,  for  the  correction  of  absolute  faults  of  cha- 
racter is  by  no  means  the  only,  or  even  the  mo?.t  impor- 
tant object  of  attention  in  Christian  progress.  'I'he  spirit 
of  piety,  which  is  the  mainspring  of  all  these  efforts  in 
the  improvement  of  the  character,  is  to  be  directly  culti- 
vated. The  command  "  grow  of  grace,"  seems  to  refer  to 
this  progress  in  the  spirit  of  piety  itself  .  The  correction 
of  external  faults,  and  the  improvement  of  the  character 
in  all  those  aspects  in  which  intercourse  between  man 
and  man  is  concerned,  will  result  from  it.  But  it  is  itself 
something  different  from  these  external  changes.  To  grow 
in  grace,  is  to  have  the  heart  itself  so  changed  that  sin 
shall  become  more  and  more  hateful,  the  promotion  af 


332  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   11. 

Unavailing  efforts.  The  mother. 

the  general  happiness  an  increasing  object  of  interest  and 
desire,  the  soul  more  and  more  closely  united  to  God,  so 
as  to  receiv^e  all  its  happiness  from  him. 

This  now  is  a  change  in  the  affections  of  the  heart.  Im- 
provement in  conduct  will  result  from  it,  but  it  is  in  itself 
essentially  different  from  right  conduct.  It  is  the  foun- 
tain, from  which  good  actions  are  the  streams.  I  wish 
therefore  that  every  one  of  my  readers  would  now  turn 
his  attention  to  this  subject,  and  inquire  with  me,  by  what 
means  he  may  grow  most  rapidly  in  attachment  to  the 
Savior,  and  in  hatred  of  sin.  A  very  unwise  and  ineffec- 
tual kind  of  effort  is  very  often  made,  which  I  shall  first  de- 
scribe, and  then  proceed  to  describe  the  means  which  may 
be  successful  in  drawing  the  heart  closer  and  closer  to 
Jehovah. 

To  illustrate  the  unavailing  efforts  which  arc  some- 
times made  to  awaken  in  the  heart  a  deeper  and  deeper 
interest  in  piety,  I  will  suppose  a  case,  and  it  is  a  case 
whicli  is  exceedingly  common.  A  professing  Christian — 
and,  to  make  the  case  more  definite,  I  will  suppose  the 
individual  to  be  the  mother  of  a  family — feels  that  she 
does  not  love  God  as  she  ought,  and  she  is  consequently 
unhappy.  She  is  aware  tliat  her  affections  are  placed  too 
strongly,  perhaps,  upon  her  family — her  children.  She 
knows  that  she  is  a  wanderer  from  her  Savior,  and  feels 
at  all  times,  when  she  thinks  of  religious  duty,  a  settled 
uneasiness  which  mars  many  of  her  enjoyments,  and  often 
saddens  her  heart.  Now,  what  does  she  do  to  remedy  this 
difficulty?  Why,  when  the  week  is  past,  and  her  hour  of 
prayer  on  the  Sabbath  has  arrived,  she  thinks  a  little  of  her 
cold  and  wayward  condition,  and  tries,  hy  dii^cct  effort,  to 
arouse  in  her  heart  feelings  of  penitence  and  love.  But 
she  tries  in  vain.  I  acknowledge  that  she  is  very  guilty 
in  being  in  such  a  state,  but  if  she  is  so,  her  direct  efforts 
to  feel  will  be  vain.  She  will  have,  for  an  hour,  a  weary 
and  melancholy  struggle — the  Sabbath  will  pass  away, 


Ch.   11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  333 

The  man  of  business.  The  dejected  Christian. 

rendered  gloomy  by  her  condition  and  her  reflections — 
and  Monday  morning  will  come,  with  its  worldly  cares 
and  enjoyments,  to  drift  her  still  further  away  from  God 
and  from  happiness. 

A  man  of  business,  engrossed  in  tlie  management  of 
his  prosperous  affairs,  knows  that  he  is  not  living  to  God. 
And  yet  he  is  a  member  of  a  Christian  church; — he  has 
solemnly  consecrated  himself  to  the  Savior  ;  and  when  he 
thinks  of  it,  he  really  wishes  that  his  heart  was  in  a  dif- 
ferent state.  The  world  however  holds  him  from  day  to 
day,  and  the  only  thing  which  he  does  to  save  himself 
from  wandering  to  a  returnless  distance  from  God,  is  to 
strive  a  little,  morning  and  evening,  at  his  short  period 
of  secret  devotion,  io  feel  his  sins.  He  makes  direct  ef- 
fort to  urge  his  heart  to  gratitude.  He  perhaps  kneels 
before  the  throne  of  God,  and  knowing  how^  little  I'ove  for 
God  he  rcclly  feels,  he  exerts  every  nerve  to  bring  his  heart 
to  exercise  more.  He  is  trying  to  control  his  affections 
by  direct  effort — and  he  probably  fails.  He  is  striving 
in  vain.  He  soon  becomes  discouraged,  and  yields  him- 
self again  to  the  current  which  is  bearing  him  away  from 
holiness  and  peace. 

I  once  knew  a  young  man — and  while  I  describe  his 
case,  it  is  possible  that  there  may  be  many  of  the  readers 
of  this  chapter  who  will  say  his  case  is  like  theirs — who 
had  a  faint  hope  that  he  was  a  Christian  ;  but  his  peni- 
tence was  in  his  opinion  so  feeble  and  heartless,  his  love 
to  God  was  so  cold,  and  his  spark  of  grace,  if  there  was 
any  in  his  heart,  was  so  faint  and  languishing,  that  he 
scarcely  dared  to  hope.  He  did  not  therefore  take  the 
stand,  or  perform  the  duties  of  a  Christian.  He  thought 
he  must  make  more  progress  himself  in  piety  before  he 
endeavored  to  do  any  good  to  others ;  he  was  accordingly 
attempting  to  make  this  progress  ;  he  struggled  with  his 
own  heart,  to  awaken  stronger  love  and  deeper  penitence 


334  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ctl.   11. 


Direct  efforts. 


there  ;  but  it  was  a  sad  and  almost  fruitless  struggle  ;  he 
became  dejected  and  desponding;  he  thought  his  heart 
was  still  cold  and  hardened  in  sin,  and  that  religious  feel- 
ing would  not  come  at  his  bidding;  and  he  continued  for 
a  long  time  unhappy  himself  and  useless  to  others. 

The  principle  which  I  have  been  designing  to  illus- 
trate by  these  cases  is,  that  the  best  way  to  improve  oi 
alter  the  affections  of  the  heart,  is  not  by  direct  efforts  up- 
on the  heart  itself.  The  degree  of  power  which  man  has 
directly  over  the  affections  of  the  heart  is  very  limited. 
A  mere  theorist  will  say  he  must  have  eiitire  control  over 
them,  or  they  cannot  be  blameworthy  or  praiseworthy. 
But  no  one  but  the  mere  theorist  will  say  this.  A  bene- 
volent man,  during  an  inclement  season,  sends  fuel  to  a 
destitute  and  suffering  family,  and  perhaps  goes  himself 
to  visit  and  to  cheer  the  sick  one  there.  Does  not  he  take 
a  great  pleasure  in  thus  relieving  misery,  and  is  not  this 
benevolent  feeling  praiseworthy?  And  yet  it  is  not  un- 
der his  direct  control,  he  cannot  possibly  help  taking 
pleasure  in  relieving  suffering.  Suppose  I  were  to  say 
to  him,  "  Sir,  just  to  try  a  philosophical  experiment,  will 
you  now  alter  your  heart,  so  as  to  be  glad  to  know  that 
people  are  suffering.  I  will  tell  you  the  facts  about  a 
child  which  perished  with  the  cold  ;  and  while  I  do  it, 
will  you  so  alter  your  heart  (which  must  be  entirely  un- 
der your  control,  or  else  its  emotions  cannot  be  praise- 
worthy or  blameworthy)  as  to  delight  in  that  cruel  suf- 
fering ?"  How  absurd  would  this  be  !  The  man  must  he 
pained  to  hear  of  sufferings  which  he  cannot  help,  and  yet 
sympathy  with  the  sorrows  of  others  is  praiseworthy. 

Again,  sister  and  sister  have  become  alienated  from 
each  other.  The  feeling  which  was  at  first  coldness  has 
become  dislike;  and  now  they  are  satisfied  that  they  whom 
God  has  placed  so  near  together  ought  not  to  bo  sunder- 
ed in  heart.  Suppose  the  parent  were  to  say  to  them,  *'  I 
know  you  can  love  each  other,  and  you  ought  to  love 


Ch.    11.]  PERSONAL     IMPROVEMENT.  33S 

Freedom  of  feeling  and  freedom  of  action. 

each  other,  and  I  command  you  immediately  to  do  it." 
They  may  fear  parental  displeasure,  they  may  know  that 
they  should  be  happier  if  they  were  united  in  heart ;  but 
will  aflection  come  at  once  at  their  call  ? 

The  entire  free  agency  of  man,  by  whicli  is  meant  his 
freedom  from  all  external  restraint  in  his  conduct,  can- 
not be  asserted  too  frequently,  or  kept  too  distinctly  in 
the  view  of  every  human  being.  There  is  such  a  thing 
however  as  presenting  this  subject  in  such  a  light  as  to 
lead  the  mind  to  the  erroneous  idea  that  all  the  affections 
of  the  heart  are  in  the  same  sense  under  the  control  of 
the  will  as  the  motions  of  the  body  are.  I  do  not  mean 
that  any  respectable  writer  or  preacher  will  advocate 
such  a  view,  but  only  that  in  expressing  his  belief  in 
human  freedom,  in  sweeping  and  unqualified  terms,  he 
may  unintentionally  convey  the  impression.  There  is 
unquestionably  a  very  essential  difference  between  a 
man's  freedom  oi  feeling,  and  his  freedom  of  acting.  A 
may  may  be  induced  to  act  by  a  great  variety  of  means. 
a  motive  of  any  kind,  if  strong  enough,  will  be  sufficient. 
Suppose,  for  instance,  a  sea-captain  wishes  to  induce  a 
man  to  leap  off  from  the  deck  of  his  ship  into  the  sea  ;  he 
may  attempt  in  a  great  many  ways  to  obtain  his  object. 
He  may  command  him  to  do  it,  and  threaten  punishment 
if  he  disobeys  ;  he  may  try  to  hire  him  to  do  it ;  he  may 
show  the  sailor  that  his  little  son  has  fallen  overboard, 
and  thus  induce  the  parent  to  risk  his  life  that  he  may 
save  that  of  his  child.  He  may  thus  in  '«'arious  ways  ap- 
peal to  very  different  feelings  of  the  human  heart — love 
of  money,  fear,  or  parental  affection — and  if  by  either  of 
these,  the  volition,  as  metaphysicians  term  it,  i.  e.  the 
determination^  can  be  formed,  the  man  goes  overboard 
in  a  moment.  He  can  do  any  thing  which,  from  any 
motive  whatever^  he  resolves  to  do. 

In  regard  however  to  the  feelings  of  the  hearty  it  is  far 
different.     Though  man  is  equally  a  free  agent  in  regard 


336  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    1 1. 


Illustration. 


to  these,  it  is  in  quite  a  different  way  ;  that  is,  the  feelings 
of  the  heart  are  not  to  be  managed  and  controlled  by 
simple  determinations ;  as  this  external  conduct  may 
be.  Suppose,  for  instance,  the  captain  wished  that  sailor 
to  be  grateful  for  some  favor  he  had  received,  and  of 
which  he  had  been  entirely  regardless ;  and  suppose  lie 
should  command  him  to  be  grateful,  and  tlireaten  him 
with  some  punishment  if  he  should  refuse  ;  or  suppose  he 
should  endeavor  to  hire  him  to  be  grateful,  or  should  try 
to  persuade  him  to  be  thankful  for  past  favors  in  order 
to  get  more.  It  would  be  absurd.  Gratitude,  like  any 
other  feeling  of  the  heart,  though  it  is  of  a  moral  nature, 
and  though  man  is  perfectly  free  in  exercising  it,  will  not 
always  come  whenever  the  man  determines  to  bring  it. 
The  external  conduct  is  thus  controlled  by  the  determi- 
nation of  the  mind,  on  whatever  motives  those  determi- 
nations may  be  founded,  but  the  feelings  and  affections  of 
the  heart  arc  under  no  such  direct  control. 

There  is  certainly,  for  all  practical  purposes,  a  great 
distinction  between  the  heart  and  the  conduct — between 
the  moral  condition  of  the  soul  and  those  specific  acts 
which  arise  from  it.  Two  children,  a  dutiful  and  a  diso- 
bedient one,  are  walking  togetlier  in  a  beautiful  garden, 
and  suddenly  the  gardener  tells  them  that  their  father 
did  not  wish  them  to  walk  there.  Now,  how  different 
will  be  the  effect  which  this  annunciation  will  make 
upon  them  !  The  one  will  immediately  obey,  leaving 
with  alacrity  the  place  which  his  father  did  not  wish  him 
to  pass.  The  other  will  linger  and  make  excuses,  or 
perhaps  altogether  disobey.  Just  before  they  received 
the  communication  they  were  perhaps  not  thinking  of 
their  father  at  all ;  but  though  their  minds  were  acting  on 
other  subjects,  they  possessed  distinct  and  opposite  cha- 
racters as  sons,  characters  which  rendered  it  probable  that 
one  would  comply  with  his  father's  wishes  as  soon  as 
those  wishes  should  be  known,  and  that  the  other  would 


Cll.  11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  337 

Melapliysical  conlioveisy.  Sloiy  of  the  Duke  of  Gloucester. 

not.  So  in  all  other  cases  ;  a  dishonest  man  is  dishonest 
in  character  when  he  is  not  actually  stealing,  and  a  hum- 
ble and  devoted  Christian  will  have  his  heart  in  a  right 
state  even  when  he  is  entirely  engrossed  in  some  intel- 
lectual pursuit,  or  involve-d  in  the  perplexities  of  busi- 
ness. 

I  am  aware  that,  among  metaphysical  philosophers, 
there  is  a  controversy  on  the  question  whether  all  which 
is  of  a  moral  nature,  i.  e.  which  is  blameworthy  or  praise- 
worthy, may  not  be  shown  to  be  specific,  voluntary  acts 
of  the  moral  being.  Into  this  question  I  do  not  intend 
to  enter  at  all ; — for  if  what  is  commonly  called  character, 
in  contradistinction  from  conduct,  may  be  resolved  into 
voluntary  acts,  it  is  certainly  to  be  done  only  by  a  nice 
metaphysical  analysis,  which  common  Christians  cannot 
be  expected  to  follow. 

To  illustrate  the  nature  of  this  subject,  i.  c.  the  dis- 
tinction, for  all  practical  purposes,  between  character 
and  conduct,  I  must  give  the  following  narrative,  which 
I  take  from  Hume,  with  some  alterations  of  form  to  make 
it  more  intelligible  in  this  connection. 

In  early  periods  of  the  English  history,  Richard,  duke 
of  Gloucester,  an  intriguing  and  ambitious  man,  formed 
the  design  of  usurping  the  tlirone.  The  former  king  had 
left  several  children,  who  were  the  proper  heirs  to  the 
crown.  They  were  however  young,  and  Richard  gained 
possession  of  the  government,  ostensibly  that  he  might 
manage  it  until  they  were  of  age,  when  he  was  to  surren- 
der it  to  them  again — but  really  with  the  design  of  put- 
ting them  and  all  their  influential  friends  to  death,  and 
thus  usurping  the  throne. 

One  of  the  most  powerful  and  faithful  friends  of  the 
young  princes  was  Lord  Hastings,  and  the  following  is 
the  account  which  Hume  gives  of  the  manner  in  which 
he  was  murdered  by  Richard, 

15 


338  YOUNG     CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    11. 

Richard's  artful  plan. 

"The  duke  of  Gloucester  knowing  the  importance  of 
gaining  Lord  Hastings,  sounded  at  a  distance  his  senti- 
ments by  means  of  a  lawyer  who  lived  in  great  intimacy 
with  that  nobleman  ;  but  found  him  impregnable  in  hi? 
allegiance  and  fidelity  to  the  children  of  Edward,  who 
had  ever  honored  him  with  his  friendship.  He  saw  there- 
fore, that  there  were  no  longer  any  measures  to  be  kept 
with  him  ;  and  he  determined  to  ruin  utterly  the  man 
whom  he  despaired  of  engaging  to  concur  in  his  usurpa- 
tion. Accordingly,  at  a  certain  day,  he  summoned  a  coun- 
cil in  the  Tower,  whither  Lord  Hastings,  suspecting  no 
design  against  him,  repaired  without  hesitation.  The 
duke  of  Gloucester  was  capable  of  committing  the  mosi 
bloody  and  treacherous  murders  with  the  utmost  coolness 
and  indifference.  On  taking  his  place  at  the  council  table, 
he  appeared  in  the  easiest  and  most  jovial  humor  imagina- 
ble ;  he  seemed  to  indulge  himself  in  familiar  conversa- 
tion with  the  counsellors  before  they  should  enter  on 
business  ;  and  having  paid  some  compliments  to  one  of 
ihem,  on  the  good  and  early  strawberries  which  he  raised 
in  his  garden,  he  begged  the  favor  of  having  a  dish  of 
them.  A  servant  was  immediately  despatched  to  bring 
them  to  him.  Richard  then  left  the  council,  as  if  called 
away  by  some  other  business  :  but  soon  after  returning, 
with  an  angry  and  inflamed  countenance  he  asjked  them, 

"What  punishment  do  those  deserve  that  have  plotted 
against  my  life,  who  am  so  nearly  related  to  the  king,  and 
am  entrusted  with  the  administration  of  government?" 
Hastings  replied  that  they  merited  the  punishment  of 
traitors.  "  These  traitors,"  then  cried  the  protector, 
*'  are  the  sorceress,  my  brother's  wife,  and  Jane  Shore,  his 
mistress,  with  others  their  associates  :  see  to  what  a  con- 
dition they  have  reduced  me  by  their  incantations  and 
witchcraft."  As  he  said  this,  he  laid  bare  his  arm,  all 
shrivelled  and  decayed;  but  the  counsellors,  who  knew 
that  this  infirmity  had  attended  him  from  his  birth,  looked 


Ch.   11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  339 


Violent  measures. 


on  each  other  with  amazement;  Lord  Hastings  began  to 
be  alarmed : 

*' '  Certainly,  my  lord,'  said  he,  '  if  they  be  guilty  of 
these  crimes  they  deserve  the  severest  punishment.' 

"  '  And  do  you  reply  to  me,'  exclaimed  Richard,  '  with 
your  ifs  and  your  ands  ^  You  are  the  chief  abettor  of  that 
witch  Shore!  You  are  yourself  a  traitor:  and  by  St. 
Paul  I  will  not  dine  before  your  head  be  brought  me.' 

"  He  struck  the  table  with  his  hand :  armed  men  rushed 
in  at  the  signal :  the  counsellors  were  thrown  into  the 
utmost  consternation  :  and  one  of  the  guards,  as  if  by  ac- 
cident or  a  mistake,  aimed  a  blow  vviih  a  poll-ax  at  one 
of  the  lords,  named  Stanley,  who,  aware  of  the  danger, 
slunk  under  the  table ;  and  though  he  saved  his  life,  receiv- 
ed a  severe  wound  in  the  head  in  Richard's  presence. 
Hastings  was  seized,  was  hurried  away,  and  instantly  be- 
headed on  a  timber  log  which  lay  in  the  court  of  the  Tow- 
er. Two  hours  after,  a  proclamation,  so  well  penned  and 
fairly  written,  that  it  must  have  been  prepared  before,  was 
read  to  the  citizens  of  London,  enumerating  his  offences, 
and  apologizing  to  them,  from  the  suddenness  of  the  dis- 
covery, for  the  sudden  execution  of  that  nobleman,  who 
was  very  popular  among  them." 

After  this  act  of  violence  Richard  went  forward  with 
his  plans  until  he  attained  complete  ultimate  success.  He 
caused  the  unhappy  young  princes  whose  claims  were 
between  him  and  the  throne,  to  be  confined  in  the  Tower, 
a  famous  castle  and  prison  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames, 
in  the  lower  part  of  London.  He  then  sent  orders  to 
the  constable  of  the  Tower  to  put  his  innocent  and  help- 
less victims  to  death.  The  officer  declined  performing 
so  infamous  an  act.  He  then  ordered  the  constable  to 
give  up,  for  one  night,  the  command  of  the  Tower  to  an- 
other man.  He  did  so,  and  the  duke  sent  Sir  James 
Tyrrel,  who  promised  to  see  that  his  cruel  orders  were 


^0  YOUNG     CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   11. 

Mirder  of  the  boys.  Analysis  of  the  story. 

executed.  But  even  T}  rrel  was  not  savage  enough  to 
execute  them  with  his  own  hand  ;  he  liad  not  the  hardi- 
hood even  to  look  on  while  it  was  done.  He  accordingly 
employed  three  ruffians,  whose  names  were  Slater,  Ligh- 
ton,  and  Forrest,  who  came  in  the  night  time  to  the  door 
of  the  chamber  in  the  Tower  where  the  poor  boys  were 
confined.  The  murderers  found  them  sleeping  quietly  in 
their  beds.  They  killed  them  by  suffocating  them  with 
the  bolster  and  pillows,  and  then  showed  the  dead  bodies 
to  Tyrrel,  that  he  might  assure  Richard  that  they  were  no 
more.  The  ambitious  and  cruel  duke  became,  by  these 
m.eans,  Richard  III.  king  of  England. 

Now,  in  reviewing  this  story,  and  a  hundred  others 
might  have  easily  been  found  which  would  have  answered 
the  purposes  of  this  illustration  just  as  well,  we  see  that 
the  guilt  which  it  discloses  may  be  easily  analyzed  into 
three  distinct  j)ortions.  I  mean  they  are  distinct  for  all 
popular  and  practical  purposes.  A  nice  metaphysical 
investigation  may  or  may  not,  I  shall  not  here  consider 
which,  reduce  them  again  to  the  same. 

1.  The  external  acts.  I  mean  the  rushing  in  of  armed 
men  at  the  table — the  wounding  of  Lord  Stanley — the 
beheading  of  Lord  Hastings — the  reading  of  the  false 
proclamation — and  the  murder  of  the  children  in  their 
bed.  These  deeds  were  not  performed  by  Richard  him- 
self; he  hired  others  to  perpetrate  these  crimes,  and  he 
had  not  himself,  directly,  any  thing  to  do  with  them.  It 
may  be  difficult  to  find,  in  the  whole  story,  any  one  ex- 
ternal act  which  Richard  did  which  was  wrong. 

2.  The  internal  acts  or  determinations  of  mind.  That 
is,  the  plans  which  Richard  formed  and  the  wicked  reso- 
lutions which  he  came  to.  He  must,  for  example,  at  one 
time  have  hesitated  whether  he  should  have  Hastings 
murdered  or  not.  He  weighed  the  difficulties  and  dan- 
gers on  the  one  side,  and  the  advantages  to  his  cause  on 
the  other,  and  at  last  he  resolved  to  do  it.     This  was  a 


Ch.   11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  341 

Ricliard's  wicked  character.     Sense  in  which  character  is  voluntary. 

mental  act.  In  the  same  manner  the  determination  to 
have  the  princes  murdered  was  an  act  of  his  mind.  It 
was  savage  and  abominable  in  the  extreme,  but  what  I 
wish  to  have  particularly  noticed  in  it  is,  that  it  was  a 
voluntary  act.  He  deliberated  about  it,  and  then  he  vo- 
luntarily resolved  upon  it.  His  whole  conduct  through- 
out this  business  is  a  series  of  most  wicked  mental  acts, 
which  he  deliberately  performed,  and  for  which  he  was 
guilty,  though  he  contrived  to  put  off  the  external  deeds 
of  violence  to  the  hands  of  others. 

3.  The  ambitious  and  cruel  heart  which  instigate 
these  acts.  Washington  would  not  have  done  such  things. 
King  Alfred  would  not  have  done  them.  No.  Richard  had, 
by  a  distinction  which,  for  all  the  practical  purposes  of 
life,  will  always  be  made  a  savage  and  an  unprincipled 
character^  without  which  he  would  not  have  done  such 
things.  Another  man,  when  hesitating  whether  to  mur- 
der two  innocent  boys,  in  order  to  prepare  a  way  for  him- 
self to  a  throne,  would  have  found  principles  of  compas- 
sion and  of  justice  coming  up,  he  knows  not  how  or  whi- 
ther, but  still  coming  up  to  arrest  his  hand.  Richard 
had  nothing  of  this  sort.  He  was  ambitious,  and  sangui- 
nary, and  unrelenting  in  character  as  well  as  in  conduct- 
Before  he  performed  any  of  these  mental  acts,  i.  e.  come 
to  those  wicked  determinations  named  under  the  second 
head,  he  had  a  heart  which  fitted  him  exactly  for  them. 

It  is  evident  too,  and  this  is  a  point  of  the  greatest  im- 
portance, that  this  cruel  and  ambitious  disposi  ion,  which 
was  the  origin  of  all  his  wicked  plans,  is  not  voluntary 
in  the  same  sense  as  the  plans  themselves  are.  In  regard 
to  his  positive  determinations  to  have  the  children  mur- 
dered, for  example,  he  deliberated,  and  then  volunta- 
rily decided  upon  it.  But  who  supposes  that  he  ever 
deliberated,  while  he  was  carrying  forward  his  schemes, 
v/hether  he  would  be  a  cruel  or  a  merciful  man,  and  de- 
cided upon  the  former!    When  he  awoke  each  morning. 


342  irOUNG   CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  li. 

Distinction  between  character  and  conduct. 

he  undoubtedly  thought  about  the  comfng  day,  and  formed 
his  designs.  He  said  to  himself.  *'  I  will  do  this,  or  I  will 
stop  that.  I  will  have  this  man  killed  to-day,  or  I  will  ba- 
nish that  man."  But  who  imagines  that,  every  morning, 
He  considered  and  decided  whether  he  should  be  virtuous 
or  vicious  that  day  in  heart  ?  Who  can  suppose  that  he 
formed  such  resolutions  as  these  :  "  I  will  be  a  cruel  man 
to-day  ;  I  will  have  no  principle  and  no  compassion  for 
others,  but  will  delight  only  in  my  own  ambition  ?"  No.  He 
was  cruel,  and  ambitious,  and  sanguinary,  without  deter- 
mining to  be  so  ;  for  the  question,  what  general  character 
he  should  cherish,  probably  never  came  up.  All  that  he 
deliberated  and  decided  upon  unquestionably  was,  by  what 
specific  plans  he  should  gratify  the  impulses  of  his  wicked 
heart.  He  determined  upon  these  plans,  but  he  did  not 
determine  upon  the  impulses.  He  would  sometimes  re- 
solve to  plan  the  destruction  of  an  enemy,  or  to  take  cer- 
tain steps  which  should  lead  him  to  the  throne  ;  but  he 
never  said  to  himself,  "  Now  I  will  awaken  in  myself  an 
impulse  of  cruelty  ;  now  I  will  call  up  into  my  heart  un- 
governable ambition  and  love  of  power."  No.  These  feel- 
ings reigned  in  his  heart  from  day  to  day,  without  any 
direct  effort  on  his  part  to  keep  them  there.  How  they 
came,  and  why  they  remained,  it  is  not  my  present  pur- 
pose to  inquire.  All  I  mean  here  to  insist  upon  is,  that 
they  are  not,  like  the  plans  of  iniquity  he  formed,  the  re- 
sult of  direct  choice  apd  determination,  and  consequently 
not  voluntary,  in  the  same  sense  in  which  these  plans 
themselves  are  the  result  of  direct  volition. 

It  may  be  said  that  this  wicked  state  of  heart  was  tlie 
result  of  previous  bad  conduct,  which  had  formed  a  ha- 
bit of  sin  ;  and  perhaps  it  was.  I  am  not  trying  to  account 
for  it,  but  only  to  bring  it  to  view.  I  am  simply  endea- 
voring to  show  there  is,  independently  of  the  conduct, 
whether  external  or  internal  acts  are  meant  by  that  term, 
a  state  of  heart  from  which  that  conduct  flows. 


Ch.  11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  343 

Moral  obiigalion.  Importance  of  it. 

Such  considerations  as  these,  and  many  others  which 
might  be  introduced  if  necessary,  plainly  show  that  man's 
moral  feelings  are  far  less  under  his  direct  control  than 
his  intellectual  or  his  bodily  powers.  He  may  try  to  lift 
a  weight — he  may  try  to  run,  to  think,  or  to  understand 
— and  he  will  probably  succeed  ;  but  it  is  hard  to  loxe  or 
to  hate  by  merely  trying  to.  But  after  stating  thus  and 
illustrating  this  principle,  there  is  one  sentence  whicli 
I  ought  to  write  in  capitals,  and  express  with  the  strong- 
est emphasis  in  my  power.  The  heart  is  iiot  independent 
of  our  control  to  such  a  degree  as  to  free  us  from  moral 
obligation  and  accountability.  We  are  most  unquestion- 
ably/ree  in  the  exercise  of  every  good  and  of  every  evil 
feeling  of  the  heart,  and  we  are  plainly  accountable  for 
them  most  fully,  though  we  may  not  have  exerted  a  di- 
rect determination  or  volition  to  bring  them  into  being. 

But  is  there  any  practical  advantage,  it  may  be  asked, 
in  drawing  this  distinction  between  the  heart  and  the  con- 
duct? There  is  a  great  practical  advantage,  otherwise  I 
should  by  no  means  have  taken  so  much  pains  to  exhibit 
it ;  for  although  the  intellectual  effort  which  is  necessary 
on  the  part  of  the  reader  in  going  into  such  a  discussion 
is  of  great  advantage,  I  should  not  have  entered  upon  it 
with  that  object  alone.  I  design  to  introduce  nothing  into 
this  book  but  what  will  be  of  practical  utility. 

It  is  then  practically  important  that  we  should  all  un- 
derstand, not  only  that  our  conduct — by  which  I  mean 
our  acts,  whether  internal  or  external — is  wrong  ;  but  also 
that  we  have  within  us  evil  hearts,  inclining  us  to  go 
astray  ;  and  that  this  evil  heart  itself  is  distinct  from  the 
going  astray  which  results  from  it.  A  clear  conception  of 
this  is  the  only  safeguard  against  that  self-sufficiency 
which  is  destructive  of  all  religious  progress.  "  The 
heart,"  says  the  Scriptures,  "is  deceitful  above  all  things, 
and  desperately  wicked  !"  The  power  which  created  it, 
alone  can  change  its  tendencies,  so  as  to  make  it  as  easy 


344  YOUNO    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    II. 

Ways  of  influencing  tlie  cliaracler.       Effects  of  Christian  knowledge 

and  as  natural  for  us  to  do  right  as  it  is  now  to  da  wrong. 
To  this  power  we  must  look.  We  must  look  to  Go-d  too 
with  a  feeling  of  distrust  of  ourselves,  and  a  conviction 
that  help  can  come  only  from  him.  *'  O  wretched  man 
that  I  am,  who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this 
death  ?"  Yes,  free  as  man  is,  and  fully  and  entirely  ac- 
countable as  he  is  for  all  his  conduct,  there  is  a  sense  in 
which  he  is  a  miserable  slave  to  sin,  in  wretched  bondage 
to  a  tyrant,  from  whose  chains  no  struggles  of  his  own 
will  ever  set  him  free.  When  he  realizes  this,  and  feels 
hum.bled  and  powerless,  and  utterly  dependant  upon  di- 
vine grace,  then  God  is  ready  to  come  into  his  soul  to  pu- 
rify and  to  save  him. 

In  thus  discussing  this  subject  here,  it  has  not  been  my 
intention  to  go  n)ctaphysically  into  the  subject  of  the  na- 
ture of  moral  agency.  My  design  has  only  been  to  show 
to  Christians,  that  the  feelings  of  penitence  for  sin  and 
ardent  love  to  the  Savior,  are  not  feelings  which  they  are 
to  bring  to  their  hearts  by  strvggling  directly  to  intro- 
duce thein.  You  cannot  be  penitent  by  simply  trying-  to 
be  penitent.  You  cannot  hate  sin  or  love  God  more 
sincerely  than  you  do,  by  simply  trying  to  feel  thus. 
The  heart  is  to  be  molded  and  guided  in  other  ways. 

Some  of  these  ways  by  which  the  heart  is  to  be  led 
more  and  more  to  God,  I  shall  describe. 

1.  By  acquiring  true  knowledge.  If  you  are  a  Ghris 
tian  at  all,  your  piety  will  be  increased  and  strengthened 
by  bringing  often  before  your  mind  those  truths  which 
show  the  necessity  of  piety.  Instead  of  struggling  di- 
rectly to  bring  penitence  to  your  heart  by  an  effort  of 
the  will,  spend  a  part  of  your  little  season  of  retirement 
in  reflecting  on  the  consequences  of  sin.  Look  around 
you  and  see  how  many  families  it  has  made  miserable, 
how  many  hearts  it  has  desolated  !  Think  of  the  power 
it  has  had  in  ruining  the  world  in  which  we  live,  and  how 
dreadful  would  be  its  ravages  if  God  should  permit  it  to 


Ch.    11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  346 

The  mother.  The  child! 

have  its  way  among  all  his  creatures.  Reflect  how  it  has 
destroyed  your  own  peace  of  mind,  injured  your  useful- 
ness, brought  a  stain  upon  the  Christian  name.  Reflect 
upon  such  subjects  as  these,  so  as  to  increase  the  vivid- 
ness of  your  knowledge — and  though  you  make  no  effort 
to  feel  penitence,  even  if  you  do  not  think  of  penitence 
at  all,  it  will  rise  in  your  heart  if  there  is  any  grace  there. 
You  cannot  look  upon  the  consequences  of  sin  without  re- 
penting that  you  have  ever  assisted  to  procure  them.  Peter 
did  not  repent  of  his  treachery  by  trying  to  feel  sorry. 
The  Lord  turned  and  looked  upon  Peter ;  that  look 
brought  with  it  recollections.  He  saw  clearly  his  rela- 
tion to  his  Savior,  and  the  ingratitude  of  his  denial. 

It  is  so  with  all  the  other  emotions  of  piety.  You  will 
not  succeed  in  loving  God  supremely  by  simply  making 
the  effort  to  do  so.  Look  at  his  goodness  and  mercy  to 
you  ;  see  it  in  the  thousand  forms  in  which  it  shines  upon 
you.  Do  not  dwell  upon  it  in  generals,  but  come  to  mi- 
nute particulars,  and  whether  old  or  young,  and  whatever 
may  be  the  circumstances  of  your  lives,  reflect  carefully 
upon  God's  kind  dealings  with  you.  Are  you  a  mother? 
— as  you  hold  your  infant  upon  your  knee,  or  observe 
its  playful  brothers  and  sisters  in  health  and  happiness 
around  you,  consider  a  moment  by  whose  goodwess  they 
were  given  to  you,  and  by  whose  mercy  they  are  daily 
spared.  Are  you  a  child  ? — look  upon  the  comforts,  and 
privileges,  and  the  sources  of  happiness  which  God  has 
given  you — and  while  you  view  them,  remember  that  every 
week  there  are  multitudes  of  children  around  you  sufl^ering 
from  cold,  from  hunger,  from  neglect,  or  who  are  sum- 
moned to  an  early  grave.  I  have  stood  at  the  bedside  of 
a  child  who  was,  a  fornight  before,  in  her  class  at  the  Sab- 
bath School, — and  seen  her  sink  from  day  to  day  under 
the  grasp  of  sickness  and  pain,  until  her  reason  failed  and 
her  strength  was  gone,  and  at  last  she  slumbered  in  death. 
A  few  days  afterward  she  was  deposited,  in  the  depth  of 

15* 


346  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Cll.   11. 

Gratitude.  Christian  action. 

winter,  in  her  cold  grave.  Blustering  storms  and  wintry 
tempests  do  not  indeed  disturb  the  repose  of  the  tomb, 
but  when  you  are  sitting  in  health  and  happiness  at  your 
own  cheerful  fireside,  and  hear  the  howling  winds  which 
sweep  around  you — or  in  a  more  genial  season  feel  the 
warm  breath  of  spring  upon  your  healthful  cheek — can 
you  think  of  the  thousand  cases  like  the  one  I  have  al- 
luded to,  and  not  feel  grateful  to  your  kind  protector  1  If 
your  heart  is  not  entirely  unrenewed,  (and  I  am  speaking 
now  to  Christians,)  these  affections  will  be  warmly  awak- 
ened while  you  refle-ct  upon  God's  goodness,  and  thus 
learn  how  much  you  are  indebted  to  him. 

It  is  thus  with  other  feelings,  they  are  to  come  to  the 
heart,  not  by  the  direct  effort  to  bring  them  there,  but  by 
bringing  to  view  the  truths  which  are  calculated  to  awaken 
them.  If  your  heart  is  right  toward  God  in  any  degree, 
the  presentation  of  these  truths  will  awaken  penitence 
and  love  ;  and  the  more  knowledge  you  acquire  in  re- 
gard to  your  relations  to  your  Maker  and  his  dealings 
with  you,  the  more  rapid  will  be  your  growth  in   grace. 

2.  The  second  means  of  growing  in  grace  is  Christian 
action.  Faith  will  not  only  show  itself  by  works,  but 
works  will  increase  faith.  Let  a  man  make  an  effort  to 
relieve  a  sufferer,  and  he  becomes  more  and  more  inte- 
rested for  him.  He  first  sends  him  a  little  food,  or  a  little 
fire,  when  he  is  sick,  and  he  finds  that  this  does  good;  it 
relieves  the  pressure,  and  brings  cheering  and  encourage- 
ment to  the  family,  before  just  ready  to  despair.  The 
benefactor  then,  becoming  more  interested  in  the  case, 
sends  a  physician ;  and  when  the  patient  is  cured,  he  pro- 
cures business  for  him;  and  goes  on  from  step  to  step, 
until  perhaps  at  last  he  feels  a  greater  interest  in  that  one 
case  than  in  all  the  suffering  poor  of  the  town  beside.  It 
all  began  by  his  simply  sending  a  little  wood,  which  was, 
perhaps,  almost  accidental,  or  at  least  prompted  by  a  very 
slight  benevolent  feeling.     This  feeling  has,  however, 


Ch.   11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  347 


Why  Howard  became  interested  for  prisoners.  Paul. 

increased  to  a  strong  and  steady  principle ;  and  to  what 
is  its  increase  owing  ? — simply  to  his  benevolent  effort. 

I  have  already  once  or  twice  alluded  to  the  benevolent 
Howard,  who  went  through  Europe,  visiting  the  prisons, 
that  he  might  learn  the  condition  of  their  unhappy 
tenants  and  relieve  their  sufferings.  And  how  was  it  that 
he  became  so  much  interested  in  prisoners  ?  It  devolved 
upon  him,  in  the  discharge  of  some  public  duty  in  his  own 
county  in  England,  to  do  something  for  the  relief  of  pri- 
soners there — and  the  moment  he  begnn  to  do  something 
for  the  prisoners,  that  moment  he  began  to  love  them  ; — 
and  the  more  he  did  for  them,  the  more  strongly  he  was 
attached  to  their  cause. 

The  Apostle  Paul  is  one  of  the  most  striking  examples 
of  the  power  of  Christian  effort  to  promote  Christian 
love.  He  gave  himself  wholly  to  his  work,  and  the  con- 
sequence was,  he  became  completely  identified  with  it. 
He  loved  it  better  than  he  did  life,  and  the  strongest  ex- 
pressions of  attachment  to  the  Savior  which  the  Bible 
contains,  are  to  be  found  in  the  language  he  uses  when 
he  was  drawing  toward  the  close  of  his  labors  upon  earth. 

If  we  then  would  grow  in  attachment  to  our  Savior,  we 
must  do  something  for  him.  But  notice — it  is  not  the 
mere  external  act  which  will  promote  your  growth  in 
piety  ;  the  act  must  be  performed,  in  some  degree  at  least, 
from  Christian  principle.  You  can  all  put  this  method 
immediately  to  the  test.  Think  of  something  which  you 
can  do  by  which  you  will  be  co-operating  with  God.  The 
desi-gn  of  God  is  to  relieve  suffering  and  promote  happi- 
ness wherever  there  is  opportunity;  and  as  sin  is  the 
greatest  obstacle  in  the  way,  he  directs  his  first  and  chief 
efforts  to  the  removal  of  sin.  Now  endeavor  to  find 
something  which  you  can  (?o,  by  which  sin  can  be  remov- 
ed or  suffering  alleviated,  and  go  forth  to  the  work  feel- 
ing that  you  are  co-operating  with  your  Savior  in  his 
great  and  benevolent  plans.     Perhaps  you  will  find  an 


348  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   11. 

Dependence  upon  the  Holy  Spirit.  An  evil  heart. 

opportunity  in  your  own  family — or  perhaps  in  your 
neighborliood ;  but  wherever  it  is  done,  if  you  go  forth  to 
the  duty  under  tlie  influence  of  attachment  to  the  Savior  and 
love  to  men,  these  feelings  will  certainly  be  increased  by 
the  effort.  You  will  feel,  while  you  do  it,  that  you  are  a 
co-worker  with  God — that  you  are  as  it  were  making  com- 
mon cause  with  him,  and  the  bonds  by  which  you  were 
before  only  loosely  bound  to  him  are  strengthened. 

Go  forward  then  efficiently  in  doing  good  ;  set  your 
hearts  upon  it.  If  you  feel  that  you  have  but  little  love 
to  God,  bring  that  little  into  exercise,  and  it  will  grow. 

3.  The  last  of  the  means  of  growing  in  grace  which  I 
shall  now  mention,  is  a  humble  sense  of  dependence  on 
the  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  sincere  prayer 
for  those  influences.  I  freely  acknowledge  the  difficulty 
which  this  subject  presents.  If  we  attempt  to  form  any 
theory  by  which  we  can  clearly  comprehend  how  ac- 
countability can  rest  upon  a  soul  which  is  still  dependent 
upon  a  higher  power  for  all  that  is  good,  we  shall  only 
plunge  ourselves  in  endless  j>erplexity.  We  know  that 
we  are  accountable  for  all  our  feelings,  as  well  as  for  our 
words  and  deeds,  and  at  the  same  time  we  know  that 
those  feelings  within  us  which  reason  and  conscience 
condemn,  will  come,  unless  the  Holy  Spirit  saves  us  from 
being  their  prey.  How  emphatically  does  the  language 
of  Paul  describe  this  our  melancholy  subjection  to  this 
law  of  sin  ! 

"  For  I  know  that  in  me  (that  is,  in  my  flesh)  dwelleth 
no  good  thing:  for  to  will  is  present  with  me  ;  but  how 
to  perform  that  which  is  good, -I  find  not.  For  the  good 
that  I  would,  I  do  not :  but  the  evil  which  I  would  not, 
that  I  do.  Now  if  I  do  that  I  would  not,  it  is  no  more  I 
that  do  it,  but  sin  that  dwelleth  in  me.  I  find  then  a  law, 
that  when  I  would  do  good,  evil  is  present  with  me.  For 
I  delight  in  the  law  of  God,  after  the  inward  man.  But 
I  see  another  law  in  my  members  warring  against  the  law 


Ch.  11. J  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  349 

An  evil  heart.  Divine  influence  necessary. 

of  my  mind,  and  bringing  me  into  captivity  to  the  law  of 
sin  which  is  in  my  members.  O  wretched  man  that  I  am! 
who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this  death  ?" 

The  conclusion  to  which  he  comes  in  the  next  verse  is 
the  right  one,  that  God  will  deliver  us  through  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord.  We  must  feel  then  humbly  dependent 
on  an  influence  from  above.  Let  us  come  daily  to  our 
Father  in  heaven,  praying  him  to  draw  us  to  the  Savior  ; 
we  shall  not  come  unless  he  draws  us.  Let  us  feel  depen- 
dent every  day  for  a  fresh  supply  of  divine  grace  to  keep 
these  hearts  in  a  proper  frame.  It  is  not  enough  to  ex- 
press this  feeling  in  our  morning  prayer ;  we  must  carry 
it  with  us  into  all  the  circumstances  of  the  day.  When 
we  are  going  into  temptation  we  must  say,  "  Lord,  hold 
thou  me  up  and  then  I  shall  be  safe,"  and  we  must  say 
it  with  a  feeling  of  entire  moral  dependence  on  God, 

Nor  need  we  fear  that  this  sense  o{ dependence  onGod  will 
impair  our  sense  of  personal  guilt,  when  we  wlifuily  sin 
against  him.  I  do  not  attempt  to  present  any  theory  by 
which  the  two  may  be  shown  to  be  compatible  with  each 
other.  We  cannot  easily  understand  the  theory,  but  we 
feel  and  know  that  both  are  true.  We  all  know  that  we 
are  guilty  for  living  in  sin  ;  and  we  feel  and  know  that 
our  hearts  do  not  change,  simply  by  our  determining  that 
they  shall.  Since  then  the  two  truths  are  clear,  let  us 
cordially  admit  them  both.  Let  us  in  the  spirit  of  humil- 
ity, and  entire  trust  in  God's  word,  believe  our  Maker 
when  he  says,  that  he  has  mercy  on  whom  he  will  have 
mercy,  and  whom  he  will  he  hardeneth.  Let  us  believe 
this  cordially,  however  difficult  it  may  be  to  understand 
what  can,  in  such  a  case,  be  the  guilt  of  the  hardened 
one  : — and  applying  the  declaration  to  our  own  case,  let 
us  come  before  him  praying  that  he  will  turn  our  hearts 
to  holiness — and  at  the  same  time  let  us  see  and  feel  our 
guilt  in  neglecting  duty  and  disobeying  God  as  we  do. 

This  feeling  of  entire  dependence  on  the  Holy  Spirit 


350  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    11. 

Intellectual  improvement.  A  finished  education. 

for  moral  progress  is  the  safest  and  happiest  feeling 
which  tlie  Christian  can  cherish.  Such  weakness  and 
helplessness  as  ours  loves  protection,  and  if  we  can  fully 
make  up  our  minds  that  there  is  a  difficulty  in  this  sub- 
ject beyond  our  present  powers  to  surmount,  we  can 
feel  fully  our  own  moral  responsibility,  and  at  the  same 
time  know  that  our  dearest  moral  interests  are  in  God's 
care.  This  feeling  is  committing  our  souls  to  our  Savior's 
keeping  and  care.  Were  our  hearts  entirely  under  our 
own  direct  control,  independent  of  God,  we,  and  we  only, 
could  be  their  keepers  ;  but  if  we  have  given  our  hearts 
to  him,  God  has  promised  to  keep  us  by  his  power.  He 
is  ahle  to  keep  us.  He  has  control,  after  all,  in  our  hearts  ; 
and  if  we  are  willing  to  put  our  trust  in  him,  he  will  keep 
us  from  falling,  and  present  us  at  last  faultless  before  the 
throne  of  his  glory  with  exceeding  joy. 

II.    INTELLECTUAL    IMPROVEMENT. 

It  may  perhaps  seem  strange  that  I  should  discuss  the 
subject  of  intellectual  progress  in  a  book  devoted  to  an 
explanation  and  enforcement  of  the  principles  of  piety.  I 
should  not  do  this  were  I  not  firmly  persuaded  that  a  regu- 
lar and  uninterrupted  intellectual  progress  is  a  duty  which 
is  peculiarly  binding  upon  the  Christian.  Let  the  reader 
reflect  a  moment,  that  those  intellectual  powers  which 
God  has  given  him  are  intended  to  exist  for  ever,  and 
that  if  he  shall  be  prepared  at  death  to  enter  the  world  of 
happiness,  they  will  go  on  expanding  for  ever,  adding 
not  only  to  his  means,  but  to  his  capacities  of  enjoyment. 

The  great  mass  of  mankind  consider  the  intellectual 
powers  as  susceptible  of  a  certain  degree  of  develope- 
ment  in  childhood,  to  prepare  the  individual  for  the  ac- 
tive duties  of  life.  This  degree  of  progress  they  suppose 
to  be  ma'de  before  the  age  of  twenty  is  attained,  and 
hence  they  talk  of  an  education  being  finished  !    Now,  if 


Ch.   11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  351 

Object  of  education. 

a  parent  wishes  to  convey  the  idea  that  his  daughter  has 
closed  her  studies  at  school,  or  that  his  son  has  finished 
his  preparatory  professional  course,  and  is  ready  to  com- 
mence practice,  there  is  perhaps  no  strong  objection  to 
his  using  the  common  phrase,  that  the  education  is  finish- 
ed ;  but  in  any  general  or  proper  use  of  language,  there 
is  no  such  thing  as  a  finished  education.  The  most  suc- 
cessful student  that  ever  left  a  school,  or  took  his  degree 
at  college,  never  arrived  at  a  good  place  to  stop  in  his  in- 
tellectual course.  In  fact,  the  farther  he  goes  the  more 
desirous  will  he  feel  to  go  on  ;  and  if  you  wish  to  find 
an  instance  of  the  greatest  eagerness  and  interest  with 
which  the  pursuit  of  knowledge  is  prosecuted,  you  will 
find  it  undoubtedly  in  the  case  of  the  most  accomplished 
and  thorough  scholar  which  the  country  can  furnish,  who 
has  spent  a  long  life  in  study,  and  who  finds  that  the  far- 
ther he  goes  the  m.ore  and  more  widely  does  the  bound- 
less field  of  intelligence  open  before  him. 

Give  up  then,  at  once,  all  idea  of  finishing  your  edu- 
cation. The  sole  object  of  the  course  of  discipline  at 
any  literary  institution  in  our  land  is  not  to  finish,  but 
just  to  show  you  how  to  begin; — to  give  you  an  impulse 
and  a  direction  upon  that  course  which  you  ought  to  pur- 
sue with  unabated  and  uninterrupted  ardor  as  long  as  you 
have  being. 

It  is  unquestionably  true,  that  every  person,  whatever 
are  his  circumstances  or  condition  in  life,  ought  at  all 
times  to  be  making  some  steady  efforts  to  enlarge  his 
stock  of  knowledge,  to  increase  his  mental  powers,  and 
thus  to  expand  the  field  of  his  intellectual  vision.  I  sup- 
pose most  of  my  readers  are  convinced  of  this,  and  are 
desirous,  if  the  way  can  only  be  distinctly  pointed  out, 
of  making  such  eflbrts.  In  fact,  no  inquiry  is  more  fre- 
quently made  by  intelligent  young  persons  than  this  : — 
"  What  course  of  reading  shall  I  pursue  ?  What  books  shall 


352  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    \l. 

1.  To  strengthen  i.he  powers. 


I  select,  and  what  plan  in  reading  them  shall  I  adopt?" 
These  inquiries  I  now  propose  to  answer. 

The  objects  of  study  are  of  several  kinds  ;  some  of  the 
most  important  I  shall  enumerate. 

1.  To  increase  our  intellectual  powers.  Every  one 
knows  that  there  is  a  difference  of  ability  in  different 
minds,  but  it  is  not  so  distinctly  understood  that  every 
one's  abilities  may  be  increased  or  strengthened  by  a 
kind  of  culture  adapted  expressly  to  this  purpose  ; — I 
mean  a  culture  which  is  intended  not  to  add  to  the  stock  of 
knowledge,  but  only  to  increase  Intellectual  power.  Sup- 
pose, for  example,  that  when  Robinson  Crusoe  on  his  de- 
solate island  had  first  found  Friday  the  savage,  he  had 
said  to  himself  as  follow^s  : 

*'  This  man  looks  wild  and  barbarous  enough  ;  he  is  to 
stay  with  me  and  help  me  in  my  various  plans,  but  he 
could  help  me  much  more  effectually  if  he  was  more  of 
an  intellectual  being  and  less  of  a  mere  animal.  Now  I 
can  increase  his  intellectual  power  by  culture,  and  I  will. 
But  what  shall  I  teach  him  ?" 

On  reflecting  a  little  farther  upon  the  subject,  he  would 
say  to  himself  as  follows: 

"  I  must  not  always  teach  him  things  necessary  for  him 
to  know  in  order  to  assist  me  in  my  work,  but  I  must  try 
to  teach  him  to  think  for  himself.  Then  he  will  be  far 
more  valuable  as  a  servant,  than  if  he  has  to  depend  upon 
me  for  every  thing  he  does." 

Accordingly  some  evening  when  the  two,  master  and 
man,  have  finished  the  labors  of  the  day,  Robinson  is 
walking  upon  the  sandy  beach,  with  the  wild  savage  by 
his  side,  and  he  concludes  to  give  him  his  first  lesson  in 
mathematics.  He  picks  up  a  slender  and  pointed  shell, 
and  with  it  draws  carefully  a  circle  upon  the  sand. 

"  What  is  that  ?"  says  Friday. 

♦*lt  is  what  we  call  a  circle,  says  Robinson."  "I  want 


Ch.     11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  353 

Robinson  Crusoe's  supposed  experiment  with  Friday. 

you  now  to  come  and  stand  here,  and  attentively  consi- 
der what  I  am  going  to  tell  you  about  it." 

Now  Friday  has,  we  will  suppose,  never  given  his  se- 
rious attention  to  any  thing,  or  rather  he  has  never  made 
a  serious  mental  effort  upon  any  subject  for  five  minutes 
at  a  time  in  his  life.  The  simplest  mathematical  princi- 
ple is  a  complete  labyrinth  of  perplexity  to  him.  He 
con.es  up  and  looks  at  the  smooth  and  beautiful  curve 
which  his  master  has  drawn  in  the  sand  with  a  gaze  of 
stupid  amazement. 

"  Now  listen  carefully  to  what  I  say,"  says  Robinson, 
"  and  see  if  you  can  understand  it.  Do  you  see  this  little 
point  I  make  in  the  middle  of  the  circle?" 

Friday  says  he  does,  and  wonders  what  is  to  come  from 
the  magic  character  which  he  sees  before  him. 

"This,"  continues  Robinson,  "is  a  circle,  and  that 
point  is  the  centre.  Now,  if  I  draw  lines  from  the  centre 
in  an)'  direction  to  the  outside,  these  lines  will  all  be 
equal." 

So  saying,  he  draws  several  lines.  He  sets  Friday  to 
measuring  them.  Friday  sees  that  they  are  equal,  and  is 
pleased,  from  two  distinct  causes  ;  one,  that  he  has  suc- 
cessfully exercised  his  thinking  powers,  and  the  other,  that 
he  has  learned  something  which  he  never  knew  before. 

I  wish  now  that  the  reader  would  understand  that  Ro- 
binson does  not  take  this  course  with  Friday  because  he 
wishes  him  to  understand  the  nature  of  the  circle.  Sup- 
pose we  were  to  say  to  him,  "  Why  did  you  choose  sixh 
a  lesson  as  that  for  your  savage?  You  can  teach  him 
much  more  useful  things  than  ihe  properties  of  the  cir- 
cle. What  good  will  it  do  him  to  know  how  to  make 
circles  ?  Do  you  expect  him  to  draw  geometrical  diagrams 
for  you,  or  to  calculate  and  project  eclipses  ?" 

"No,"  Robinson  would  reply;  "I  do  not  care  about 
Friday's  understanding  the  properties  of  the  circle.  But 
I  do  want  him  to  be  a  thinking  being,  and  if  I  can  induce 


3S4  IrOONG  CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  11. 

Robinson  Crasoe  and  Friday.  Conic  Sections. 

him  to  think  half  an  hour  steadily  and  carefully,  it  is  of 
no  consequence  upon  what  subject  his  thoughts  are  em- 
ployed. I  chose  the  circle  because  that  seemed  easy  and 
distinct — suitable  for  the  first  lesson.  I  do  not  know  that 
he  will  ever  have  occasion  to  make  use  of  the  fact,  that 
the  radii  of  a  circle  are  equal,  as  long  as  he  shall  live- 
but  he  will  have  occasion  for  the  power  of  patient  atten 
Hon  and  thought  which  he  acquired  while  attempting  to 
understand  that  subject." 

This  would  unquestionably  be  sound  philosophy,  and 
a  savage  who  should  study  such  a  lesson  on  the  beach  of 
his  own  wild  island  would  forever  after  be  less  of  a  savage 
than  before.  Tlie  efiect  upon  his  mental  powers,  of  one 
single  effort  like  that,  would  last;  and  a  series  of  such 
efforts  would  transform  him  from  a  fierce  and  ungovern- 
able, but  stupid  animal,  to  a  cultivated  and  intellectual 
man. 

Thus  it  is  with  all  education.  One  great  object  is  to 
increase  the  powers^  and  this  is  entirely  distinct  from  the 
acquisition  of  knowledge.  Scholars  very  often  ask,  when 
pursuing  some  difficult  study,  "What  good  will  it  do  me 
to  know  this?"  But  that  is  not  the  question.  They  ought 
to  ask,  "What  good  will  it  do  me  to  learn  it?  What  ef- 
fect upon  my  habits  of  thinking,  and  upon  my  intellectual 
powers,  will  be  produced  by  the  efforts  to  examine  and  to 
conquer  these  difficulties? 

A  very  fine  example  of  this  is  the  study  of  conic  sec- 
tions, a  difficult  branch  of  the  course  of  mathematics  pur- 
sued in  college;  a  study  which,  from  its  difficulty  and  its 
apparent  uselessness,  is  often  very  unpopular  in  the  class 
pursuing  it.  The  question  is  very  often  asked,  "  What 
good  will  it  ever  do  us  in  after-life  to  understand  all  these 
mysteries  of  the  parabola,  and  the  hyperbola,  and  the 
ordinates,  and  abscissas,  and  asymtotes?"  The  answer 
is,  that  the  knowledge  of  the  facts  which  you  acquire  will 
probably  do  you  no  good  whatever.     That  is  not  the  f)b- 


Ch.   11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  3S5 

Difficult  studies.  '  Acquisition  of  knowledge. 

ject,  and  every  college  officer  knows  full  well  that  the 
mathematical  principles  which  this  science  demonstrates, 
are  not  brought  into  use  in  after-life  by  one  scholar  in 
ten.  But  every  college  officer,  and  every  intelligent  stu- 
dent who  will  watch  the  operations  of  his  own  mind  and 
the  influences  which  such  exercises  exert  upon  it,  knows 
equally  well  that  the  study  of  the  higher  mathematics  pro- 
duces an  eflfect  in  enlarging  and  disciplining  the  intel- 
lectual powers  which  the  whole  of  life  will  not  obliterate. 

Do  not  shrink  then  from  difficult  work  in  your  effi^rts 
ial  intellectual  improvement.  You  ought,  if  you  wish  to 
secure  the  greatest  advantage,  to  have  some  difficult  work, 
that  you  may  acquire  habits  of  patient  research,  and  in- 
crease and  btrengthen  your  intellectual  powers. 

2.  The  acquisition  of  knoiuledge.  This  is  another  ob- 
ject of  intellectual  effort ;  and  a  moment's  reflection  will 
convince  any  one  that  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  is  the 
duty  of  all.  Sometimes  it  has  been  said  by  an  individual 
under  the  influence  of  a  misguided  interest  in  religious 
truth,  that  he  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  human  learn- 
ing; he  will  study  nothing  but  the  Bible,  and  all  his 
leisure  hours  he  will  give  to  meditation  and  prayer — and 
thus  he  will  devote  his  v/hole  time  and  strength  to  the 
promotion  of  his  progress  in  piety.  But  if  there  is  any 
thing  clearly  manifest  of  God's  intentions  in  regard  to 
employment  for  man,  it  is  that  he  should  spend  a  very 
considerable  portion  of  his  time  upon  earth  in  acquiring 
knowledge — knowledge,  in  all  the  extent  and  variety  in 
which  it  is  offered  to  human  powers.  The  whole  economy 
of  nature  is  such  as  to  allure  man  to  the  investigation  of 
it,  and  the  whole  structure  of  his  mind  is  so  framed  as  to 
qualify  him  exactly  for  the  work.  If  now  a  person  be- 
gins in  early  life,  and  even  as  late  as  twenty,  and  makes 
it  a  part  of  his  constant  aim  to  acquire  knowledge — en- 
deavoring every  day  to  learn  something  which  he  did  not 
know  before,  or  to  fix  somethinor  in  the  mind  which  was 


356  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    11. 

Skill.  Three  experiments  with  Friday. 

before  not  familiar,  he  will  make  an  almost  insensible, 
but  a  most  rapid  and  important  progress.  The  field  of 
his  intellectual  vision  will  widen  and  extend  every  year. 
His  powers  of  mind  as  well  as  his  attainments  will  be 
increased  ;  and  as  he  can  see  more  extensively,  so  he  can 
act  more  effectually  every  month  than  he  could  in  the 
preceding.  He  thus  goes  on  through  life,  growing  in 
knowledge  and  in  intellectual  and  moral  power;  and  if 
his  spiritual  progress  keeps  pace,  as  it  ought  to,  with  his 
intellectual  advancement,  he  is,  with  the  divine  assistance 
and  blessing,  exalting  himself  higher  and  higher  in  the 
scale  of  being,  and  preparing  himself  for  a  loftier  and 
wider  field  of  service  in  the  world  to  come. 

3.  The  acquisition. of  skill  is  a  third  object  of  intellec- 
tual effort.  I  point  out  clearly  and  separately  the  dis- 
tinct objects  which  intellectual  effort  ought  to  have  in  view, 
that  my  readers  may  ascertain  whether  they  are  doing 
something  to  accomplish  them  all,  and  that  in  all  the  par- 
ticular plans  which  they  may  adopt,  they  may  have  con- 
stantly in  mind  the  purpose  which  is  in  view  in  each,  in 
order  the  more  effectually  to  secure  it.  I  wish  therefore 
that  my  readers  would  notice  particularly  this  third  head, 
for  it  is  one  which  though  in  some  respects  quite  as  im- 
portant as  either  of  the  oti:ers,  is  not  often  very  clearly- 
pointed  out. 

To  recur  to  my  illustration  of  Robinson  Crusoe  and  his 
man  Friday.  The  conversation  which  I  supposed  to  be 
held  with  him  on  the  suhject  of  the  circle,  was  not  merely 
designed  to  give  him  information  or  skill,  but  to  discipline 
and  improve  his  intellectual  powers  by  the  exercise.  Let 
us  suppose  now,  that  the  next  day  Robinson  had  concluded 
to  tell  him  the  story  of  his  own  past  adventures,  and  set- 
ting down  upon  a  green  bank  by  the  side  of  their  hut,  had 
given  him  an  outline  of  his  early  life  in  England — of  his 
first  coming  to  sea — of  his  wanderings  and  adventures 
on    the  great   ocean,  and  of  his   final   shipwreck  on  thtj 


Ch.    11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  357 

'leacliing  him  to  count. 

island.  He  describes  as  well  as  he  can  the  form  and  ap- 
pearance of  the  great  ship  in  whicli  he  had  sailed,  its  spa- 
cious decks  and  numerous  company,  and  makes  him  ac- 
quainted with  his  hope  that,  ere  long,  a  similar  ship,  com- 
ing from  that  same  native  land,  will  appear  in  the  hori- 
zon and  come,  attracted  by  their  signals,  to  the  island,  and 
bear  him  away  to  his  home. 

Now  such  a  conversation  as  this  is  intended  to  give  in- 
formation. It  may  indeed  be  a  useful  discipline  to  Fri- 
day's powers  to  listen  to  it,  but  that  is  not  its  main  design. 
Robinson's  chief  design  is,  to  make  his  savage  companion 
acquainted  with  facts,  which  it  is  on  many  accounts  im- 
portant that  he  should  know. 

Now  let  us  take  a  third  case.  My  readers  are  all  doubt- 
less aware  that  savages  can  usually  count  only  as  far  as 
they  have  fingers  to  illustrate  their  arithmetic.  Some 
tribes  can  use  botli  hands,  counting  as  far  as  ten,  and 
when  they  get  beyond  that  they  hold  upboth  hands,  shake 
their  heads  as  if  in  perp^.exity,  and  say  "^rea^  many — 
great  many.'''  Other  tribes  can  go  no  farther  than  one 
hand,  and  have  no  names  for  numbering  beyond  five. 

Now  suppose  Robinson  were  to  undertake  to  teach 
Friday  to  count.  He  might  say  to  himself  that  it  would 
often  be  a  great  convenience  to  him  if  Friday  were  able 
to  count,  so  that  he  might  ascertain  and  describe  to  him 
numbers  higher  than  those  which  he  could  express  by  his 
fingers.  He  accordingly  commences  the  task,  and  perse- 
veres day  after  day  in  the  lesson.  I  say  day  after  day,  for, 
easy  as  it  may  seem  to  us,  it  is  a  matter  of  no  small  difficul- 
ty to  teach  a  savage  to  count.  Now,  although  there  is  un- 
questionably an  important  mental  discipline  secured  by 
such  an  effort  on  the  part  of  the  savage,  and  although  the 
learning  to  count  is  in  one  sense  the  acquisition  of  know- 
ledge— it  is,  in  a  much  more  important  sense,  the  acqui- 
sition oi  skill.  By  making  the  process  of  counting  fami- 
liar, Friday  is  not  so  properly  acquiring  a  knowledge  of 


359  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    11. 

Study  of  mathematics.  Imperfect  education 

facts,  as  learning  something  to  do.  It  is  of  the  nature  of 
skill  which  he  is  to  use  in  future  times  for  the  benefit  of 
himself  and  of  Robinson. 

If  you  call  to  mind  the  various  studies  which  are  urged 
upon  the  attention  of  the  young,  you  will  find  that  skilU 
that  i3,  learning  to  do  something,  is  very  often  the  object 
in  view.  It  is  so  with  arithmetic.  In  studying  the  funda- 
mental rules,  the  main  de&ign  is  not  to  bring  in  informa- 
tion to  your  minds,  but  to  teach  you  to  do  something. 
When  you  read  history,  you  are  acquiring  knowledge — 
when  you  study  rhetoric  or  write  composition  for  prac- 
tice, you  arc  acquiring  skill.  Now  all  these  three  objects 
in  a  good  scheme  of  education  are  to  be  kept  constantly 
in  view,  and  to  be  regularly  provided  for.  A  young  man 
at  college,  for  instance,  will  study  his  demonstration  in 
the  mathematics  in  the  morning,  for  the  purpose  of  im- 
proving and  strengthening  his  powers ;  he  will  listen  to 
a  philosophical  or  cliemical  lecture,  or  study  botany  in 
the  fields  in  the  afternoon,  to  obtain  knowledge,  and  in  the 
evening  he  will  practise  in  his  debating  society,  to  acquire 
skill.  These  three  things  are  distinct  and  independent, 
but  all  equally  important  in  the  business  of  life.  If  one  is 
cultivated  and  the  others  neglected,  the  man  is  very  poorly 
qualified  for  usefulness  ;  and  yet  nothing  is  more  com- 
mon than  such  half-educated  men. 

I  have  often  known  persons  in  v/hom  the  first  of  these 
objects  alone  v/as  secured.  You  will  recognise  one  who 
is  in  danger  of  such  a  result  in  his  education,  by  his  tak- 
ing a  strong  interest,  if  he  is  in  college  for  example,  in 
those  pursuits  in  his  class  which  require  more  of  great 
but  temporary  mental  efix)rt ;  and  by  his  neglecting  the 
equally  important  parts  of  his  course,  which  would  store 
his  mind  with  facts.  He  attracts  the  admiration  of  his 
class  by  his  fluent  familiarity  with  all  the  mazes  of  the 
most  intricate  theorem  or  problem  ;  and  he  excites  an 
equal  surprise  by  his  apparent  dullness  at  the  recitation 


Ch.    11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  359 

Neglect  of  important  duties. 

in  history,  making,  as  he  does,  the  most  ludicrous  blun- 
ders, and  showing  the  most  lamentable  ignorance  of  every- 
thing which  is  beyond  the  pale  of  demonstration.  When 
at  last  he  comes  out  into  the  world,  his  mind  is  acute  and 
powerful,  but  he  is  an  entire  stranger  to  the  scene  in  which 
he  is  to  move  ;  he  can  do  no  good,  because  he  does  not 
know  where  his  efforts  are  to  be  applied  ;  he  makes  the 
same  blunders  in  real  life  that  he  did  in  college  in  its 
history,  and  is  soon  neglected  and  forgotten.  He  had 
cultivated  simple  power,  but  was  without  information 
or  skill;  his  power  was  consequently  almost  useless. 

On  the  other  hand,  a  young  man  may  spend  his  whole 
strength  in  simply  obtaining  knowledge — neglecting  the 
cultivation  of  mental  power,  or  the  acquisition  of  skill. 
He  neglects  his  severer  studies,  and  his  various  opportu- 
nities for  practice.  "  Spherics  !"  says  he,  "  and  trigo- 
nometrical formula  !  What  good  will  they  ever  do  me? 
I  am  not  going  to  be  an  almanac-maker,  or  to  gain  my 
livelihood  by  calculating  eclipses."  So  he  reads  history, 
and  voyages  and  travels,  and  devours  every  species  of 
periodical  literature  which  finds  its  way  within  college 
walls.  He  very  probably  neglects  those  duties  which, 
if  faithfully  performed,  would  cultivate  the  powers  of 
conversation,  and  writing,  and  public  speaking ;  and  he 
comes  out  into  tlie  world  equally  celebrated  among  all 
who  knew  him,  on  the  one  hand,  for  the  variety  and  ex- 
tent of  his  general  knowledge,  and  on  the  other,  for  the 
slenderness  of  his  original -mental  power,  and  his  utter 
v/ant  of  any  skill  in  bringing  his  multifarious  acquisi- 
tions to  bear  upon  the  objects  of  life. 

In  the  same  manner  I  might  illustrate  the  excessive 
pursuit  of  the  last  of  the  objects  I  have  named,  viz.  the 
acquisition  of  skill,  hut  1  think  it  is  unnecessary.  My 
readers  will,  I  think,  all  clearly  see  that  these  objects 
are  distinct,  and  that  all  are  of  the  first  importance  to 
every  one.     To  be  most  extensively  useful,  you  must 


360  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [CIl.   11. 

Intelleclual  progress  of  a  mother. 

have  original  mental  power,  and  knowledge  of  facts, 
and  skill  to  apply  that  knowledge  in  the  most  effectual 
manner. 

The  illustrations  which  I  have  employed  have  referred 
more  directly  to  the  cases  of  young  men  in  a  course  of 
public  education,  but  I  have  not  intended  that  these  prin- 
ciples should  be  exclusively  applied  to  them.  Nor  are 
they  to  be  confined  in  their  application  to  the  preparatory 
stages  of  education.  Take  for  example  a  young  mother  of 
a  family.  She  ought  at  all  times  to  be  making  daily  intel- 
lectual progress,  and  this  intellectual  progress  ought  to 
be  such  as  to  secure  a  proportional  attention  to  all  the 
three  objects  I  have  named.  Slie  ought  to  investigate 
something  vvliich  shall  task  her  powers  to  the  utmost,  so 
as  to  secure  discipline  and  improvement  of  those  powers. 
She  ought  also  to  make  regular  and  systematic  efforts  to 
acquire  information — by  reading  and  by  conversation, 
enlarging  as  much  as  possible  the  field  of  her  vision,  so 
that  slie  can  the  more  fully  understand  the  circumstances 
in  which  she  is  placed,  and  the  means  of  influence  and 
usefulness  within  her  reach.  She  ought  also  to  adopt 
systematic  plans  for  increasing  her  skill — by  learning,  for 
example,  sj'stem  in  all  her  aflairs — by  studying  improve- 
ments in  the  manner  in  which  all  her  duties  are  perform- 
ed— endeavoring  to  become  more  faithful,  and  systema- 
tic, and  regular  in  all  her  employments.  By  this  means 
she  may  acquire  dexterity  in  every  pursuit,  an  important 
influence  over  other  minds,  and  especially  a  higher  skill 
in  interesting,  and  instructing,  and  governing  her  cliildren. 

But  I  must  not  go  more  into  detail  in  this  part  of  my 
subject.  The  best  means  of  intellectual  improvement 
demand  a  volume  instead  of  a  chapter,  though  a  chapter 
is  all  which  can  be  properly  appropriated  to  it  in  such  a 
work  as  this.  What  I  have  already  said  in  regard  to  the 
three  separate  and  distinct  objects  in  view  in  education, 
has  been  chiefly  designed  to  persuade  my  young  readers 


Ch.   11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  361 

Reading.  System 

to  engage  cheerfully  and  cordially  in  all  the  pursuits 
which  those  who  are  older  and  wiser  than  they  have  pre- 
scribed, in  the  various  literary  institutions  M^ith  which 
they  are  connected.  I  shall  with  these  remarks  leave 
the  subject  of  the  pursuit  of  study  in  literary  seminaries, 
and  close  the  chapter  with  a  few  directions  in  regard  to 
such  means  of  improvement  as  may  be  privately  resorted 
to  by  individuals,  in  their  desire  to  improve. 

I.  Reading.  There  are  several  detached  directions 
which  will  be  of  great  service'to  you  in  your  private  read- 
ing, if  they  are  faithfully  followed. 

Read  systematically.  I  mean  by  this,  do  not  take  up 
and  read  any  books  because  they  merely  chance  to  fall  in 
your  way.  You  see  on  your  neighbor's  table  a  book 
which  looks  as  if  it  was  interesting,  as  you  say,  and  you 
think  you  should  like  to  read  \t.  You  borrow  it — carry 
it  home — and  at  some  convenient  time  you  begin.  You 
soon  however,  either  from  taking  it  up  at  a  time  when  you 
were  interested  in  something  else,  or  from  being  fre- 
quently interrupted,  or  perhaps  from  the  character  of  the 
book,  you  find  it  rather  dull,  and  after  wasting  a  few 
hours  upon  the  first  fifty  pages,  you  tumble  over  the  re- 
mainder of  the  leaves,  and  then  send  the  book  home. 
After  a  few  days  more,  you  find  some  other  book  by  a  si- 
milar accident,  and  pursue  the  same  course.  Such  a  me- 
thod of  attempting  to  acquire  knowledge  from  books  will 
only  dissipate  the  mind,  destroy  all  habits  of  accurate 
thinking,  and  unfit  you  for  any  intellectual  progress. 

But  you  must  not  go  into  the  opposite  extreme  of  draw 
ing  up  for  yourself  a  set  of  rules  and  a  system  of  read 
ing  full  enough  to  occupy  you  for  years,  and  then  begin 
upon  that  with  the  determination  of  confining  yourself, 
at  all  hazards,  rigidly  to  it.  What  I  mean  by  systematic 
reading  is  this. 

Reflect  upon  your  circumstances  and  condition  in  life, 
and  consider  what  sort  of  knowledge  will  most  increase 

16 


362  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   1  L 

Variety.  Thorough  reading;. 

your  usefulness  and  happiness.  Then  inquire  of  some 
judicious  friend  for  proper  books.  If  accident  throws 
some  book  in  your  way,  consider  whether  the  subject 
upon  which  it  treats  is  one  which  comes  within  your 
plan.  Inquire  about  it,  if  you  cannot  form  an  opinion 
yourself,  and  if  you  conclude  to  read  it,  persevere  and 
finish  it. 

Systematic  reading  requires  too,  that  you  should  se- 
cure variety  in  your  books.  Look  over  the  departments 
of  human  knowledge,  and  see  that  your  plan  is  so  formed 
that  it  will  give  you  some  knowledge  of  them  all.  In  re- 
gard to  the  precise  time  and  manner  in  which  you  shall  fill 
up  the  details,  it  is  undoubtedly  best  not  to  form  any  ex' 
act  plan.  It  is  better  to  leave  such  to  be  decided  by  cir- 
cumstances, and  even  by  your  inclinations,  from  time  to 
time.  You  will  enter  witli  more  spirit  and  success  into 
the  prosecution  of  any  inquiry,  if  you  engage  in  it  at  a  time 
when  it  seems  alluring  and  interesting  to  you. 

Read  thorouglily.  Avoid  getting  into  the  habit  of  going 
over  the  page  in  a  listless  and  mechanical  manner.  Make 
an  effort  to  penetrate  to  the  full  meaning  of  your  author, 
and  think  patiently  of  every  difhcult  passage  until  you 
understand  it ;  or  if  it  bafHes  your  unassisted  efforts,  have 
it  explained.  Reading  thoroughly  requires  also  that  you 
sliould  make  yourself  acquainted  with  all  those  attendant 
circumstances  which  enable  you  the  more  fully  to  under- 
stand the  author's  meaning.  Examine  carefully  the  title- 
page  and  preface  of  every  book  you  read,  that  you  may 
learn  who  wrote  it,  where  it  was  written,  and  what  it  was 
written  for.  Have  at  hand,  if  possible,  such  helps  as  maps, 
and  a  gazetteer,  and  a  biographical  dictionary.  Be  care- 
ful then  to  find  upon  the  map  everyplace  mentioned,  and 
learn  from  the  gazetteer  what  sort  of  place  it  is.  If  an 
allusion  is  made  to  any  circumstances  in  the  life  of  an 
eminent  man  or  in  public  history,  investigate  by  books  or 
by  inquiry  the  allusion,  so  as  fully  to  understand  it.     If 


Ch.    11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  363 


Short  works. 


possible,  find  other  accounts  of  the  transactions  which 
your  author  is  describing,  and  compare  one  with  another 
— reflect  upon  the  differences  in  the  statements,  and  en- 
deavor to  ascertain  the  truth.  Such  a  mode  of  reading  as 
this  is  a  very  slow  way  of  getting  over  the  pages  of  a 
book,  but  it  is  a  very  rapid  way  of  acquiring  knowledge. 

Do  not  undertake  to  read  extensive  works.  A  young 
person  will  sometimes  commence  Hume's  England,  or 
Gibbon's  Decline  and  Fall,  or  Hallam's  Middle  Ages,  or 
some  other  extensive  work,  beginning  it  with  no  calcula- 
tion of  the  time  which  will  be  required  to  complete  it, 
and  in  fact  with  no  definite  plan  whatever.  Such  an  un- 
dertaking is  almost  always  a  failure.  Any  mind  under 
twenty  years  of  age  will  get  wearied  out  again  and  again 
in  going  through  a  dozen  octavo  volumes  on  any  subject 
whatever.  There  is  no  objection  to  reading  such  works, 
but  let  it  be  in  detached  portions  at  a  time.  Select,  for  in- 
stance, from  Hume's  most  interesting  narrative,  the  reign 
of  some  one  monarch, Elizabeth  or  Alfred  ;  or  make  choice 
of  such  a  subject  as  the  crusades,  or  the  life  of  Mary 
Queen  of  Scots,  and  mark  off  such  a  portion  of  the  whole 
work  as  shall  relate  to  the  topic  thus  chosen.  This  can 
easily  be  done,  and  with  no  greater  diflSculty  on  account 
of  its  compelling  the  reader  to  begin  in  the  middle  of  the 
history,  than  must  always  be  felt  in  reading  history.  If 
you  begin  at  the  beginning  of  a  work,  and  go  regularly 
through  to  the  end,  you  will  find  a  thousand  cases  in 
which  the  narrative  you  read  is  connected  with  other  his- 
tories in  such  a  way  as  to  demand  the  same  effort  to  un- 
derstand the  connection  which  will  be  necessary  in  the 
course  I  have  proposed. 

Form  then,  for  your  reading,  short  and  definite  plans. 
When  you  commence  a  work,  calculate  how  long  it  will 
take  you  to  finish  it,  and  endeavor  to  adhere  to  the  plan 
you  shall  form  in  regard  to  the  degree  of  rapidity  with 
which  you  will  proceed.    This  habit,  if  once  formed,  will 


364  YOVNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   1 1. 


Conversation.  DiSculty  of  cultivating  it 

be  the  means  of  promoting  regularity  and  efficacy  in  all 
your  plans. 

II.  Conversation.  This  topic  deserves  a  volume,  in- 
stead of  the  very  brief  notice  which  is  all  that  is  consist- 
ent with  the  plan  of  this  book.  It  is  known  and  admitted 
to  be  one  of  the  most  important  of  all  attainments,  and  per- 
liaps  nothing  is  more  desired  by  all  intelligent  young  per- 
sons who  reflect  at  all  upon  their  means  of  influence  and 
improvement,  than  conversational  power.  But,  notwith- 
standing this  general  impression  in  its  favor,  there  is  no- 
thing of  half  its  importance  which  is  so  entirely  neglected 
in  education.  And  there  is,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  a 
very  great  difiiculty  in  the  subject.  It  cannot  be  taught  in 
schools  and  by  classes,  like  the  other  branches  of  know- 
ledge or  skill.  Some  few  successful  experiments  have 
indeed  been  made,  but  almost  every  effort  to  make  it  a 
distinct  object  of  attention  in  a  literary  seminary  has 
either  failed  entirely,  or  resulted  in  producing  a  stifle  and 
formal  manner,  which  is  very  far  from  being  pleasing. 
Acquiring  skill  in  conversation  therefore  must,  in  most 
cases,  be  left  to  individual  eflJbrt ;  and  even  here,  if  the 
acquisition  of  skill  is  made  the  dii'cct  object,  the  individual 
will  notice  his  manner  so  much,  and  take  so  much  pains 
with  that,  as  to  be  in  peculiar  danger  of  aflfectation  or  for- 
mality. To  acquire  the  art  of  conversation  then,  I  would 
recommend  that  you  should  practise  conversation  syste- 
matically  and  constantly,  but  that  you  should  have  some 
other  objects  than  improvement  in  your  manner  of  ex- 
pressing yourself  mainly  in  view.  You  will  become  in- 
terested in  these  objects,  and  consequently  interested  in 
the  conversation  which  you  make  use  of  as  a  means  of 
promoting  them ;  and  by  not  having  your  own  manner 
directly  in  view,  the  danger  of  that  stifthess,  and  preci- 
sion, and  aflfectation,  which  is  so  common  a  result  of  ef- 
forts to  improve  in  such  an  art  as  this,  will  be  escaped.. 
I  will  mention  what  these  objects  may  be. 


Ch.   11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  305 

Means  of  cultivating  it.  Experiments  proposed. 

Make  conversation  a  means  of  acquiring  knowledge. 
Every  person  with  whom  you  are  thrown  into  casual 
connection  has  undoubtedly  some  knowledge  which  would 
be  useful  or  valuable  to  you.  You  are  riding  in  the  stage, 
I  will  suppose,  and  the  rough-looking  man  who  sits  by 
your  side  appears  so  unattractive  that  you  do  not  ima- 
gine that  he  has  any  thing  to  say  which  can  interest  you. 
But  speak  to  him — draw  him  into  conversation,  and  you 
will  find  that  he  is  a  sea  captain  who  has  visited  a  hun- 
dred ports,  and  can  tell  you  many  interesting  stories  about 
every  clime.  He  will  like  to  talk,  if  he  finds  you  are 
interested  to  hear,  and  you  may  make,  by  his  assistance, 
a  more  important  progress  in  really  useful  knowledge 
during  that  day's  ride,  than  by  the  study  of  the  best  lesson 
from  a  book  that  was  ever  learned.  Avail  yourselves,  in 
this  way,  of  every  opportunity  which  Providence  may 
place  within  your  reach. 

You  may  do  much  to  anticipate  and  to  prepare  for  con- 
versation. You  expect,  I  will  suppose,  to  be  thrown  into 
the  company  of  a  gentlem.an  residing  in  a  distant  city. 
Now,  before  you  meet  him,  go  to  such  sources  of  informa- 
tion as  are  within  your  reach,  and  learn  all  you  can  about 
that  city.  You  will  get  some  hints  in  regard  to  its  pub- 
lic institutions,  its  situations,  its  business,  and  its  objects 
of  interest  of  every  kind.  Now  you  cannot  read  the 
brief  notices  of  this  sort  which  common  books  can  fur- 
nish, without  having  your  curiosity  excited  in  regard  to 
some  points  at  least,  and  you  will  go  into  the  company 
of  the  stranger,  not  dreading  his  presence  and  shrinking 
from  the  necessity  of  conversation,  but  eager  to  avail 
yourself  of  the  opportunity  of  gratifying  your  curiosity, 
and  learning  something  full  and  satisfactory  from  an  eye- 
witness of  the  scenes  which  the  book  had  so  briefly  de- 
scribed. By  this  means,  too,  the  knowledge  of  books  and 
of  conversation — of  study  and  of  real  life — will  be  brought 
together ;  and  this  is  a  most  important  object  for  you  to 


366  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    11. 

Plaus  and  experiments.  Digesting  knowledge. 

secure.  It  will  give  vividness  and  an  air  of  reality  to 
written  description,  if  you  can  frequently,  after  reading 
the  description,  have  an  opportunity  to  converse  with 
one  who  has  seen  the  object  or  the  scene  described. 

You  may  make  a  more  general  preparation  for  the  op- 
portunities for  conversation  which  you  will  enjoy.  Con- 
sider what  places  and  what  scenes  those  with  whom  you 
may  be  casually  thrown  into  connection  will  most  fre- 
quently have  visited,  and  make  yourself  as  much  ac- 
quainted with  them  as  possible  ;  you  can  then  converse 
about  them.  Ascertain  too  what  are  the  common  topics 
of  conversation  in  the  place  in  which  you  reside,  and 
learn  by  reading  or  by  inquiry  all  you  can  about  them  ; 
so  that  you  can  be  prepared  to  understand  fully  what  you 
hear,  and  make  your  own  inquiries  advantageously,  and 
thus  be  prepared  to  engage  intelligently  and  with  good 
effect,  in  the  conversation  in  which  you  may  have  op- 
portunity to  join. 

On  the  same  principle  it  will  be  well  for  you,  when  you 
meet  with  any  difficulty  in  your  reading  or  in  your  stu- 
dies, or  when  in  private  meditations  any  inquiries  arise 
in  your  minds  which  you  cannot  yourselves  satisfactorily 
answer,  not  to  dismiss  them  from  your  thoughts  as  diffi- 
culties which  must  remain  because  you  cannot  yourselves 
remove  them.  Consider  who  of  your  acquaintances  will 
be  most  probably  able  to  assist  you  in  regard  to  each. 
One  may  be  a  philosophical  question,  another  a  point  of 
general  literature,  and  a  third  may  be  a  question  of 
christian  duty.  By  a  moment's  reflection  you  will  easily 
determine  to  whom  each  ought  to  be  referred ;  and  when 
the  next  opportunity  occurs  you  can  refer  them,  and  give 
yourself  and  your  friend  equal  pleasure  by  the  conversa- 
tion you  will  thus  introduce. 

Make  conversation  a  means  of  digesting  your  know- 
ledge. I  am  obliged  to  use  the  term  digest,  because  there 
is  no  otherv      The  food  that  is  received  into  the  system 


Ch.  11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  367 

Necessity  of  digesting  what  is  read. 

is,  by  a  peculiar  set  of  vessels,  dissolved,  and  so  incorpo- 
rated with  the  very  system  itself  as  to  become  actual- 
ly a  part  of  it ;  it  is  assimilated  completely,  and  then,  and 
only  then,  does  it  promote  its  growth  and  strength.  Now, 
it  is  just  so  with  the  reception  of  knowledge.  It  must 
not  only  be  received  by  the  mind,  but  it  must  be  ana- 
lyzed and  incorporated  with  it,  so  as  to  form  a  part  of  the 
very  mind  itself;  and  then,  and  not  till  then,  can  the 
knowledge  be  properly  said  to  be  really  possessed.  If  a 
scholar  reads  a  passage  in  an  author,  simply  receiving  it 
into  the  mind  as  a  mass  will  do  very  little  good.  Take 
for  example  these  very  remarks  on  conversation :  a 
reader  may  peruse  the  pages  thoroughly,  and  fully  un- 
derstand all  that  I  say,  and  yet  the  whole  that  I  present 
may  lie  in  the  mind  an  undigested  mass,  which  never  can 
nourish  or  sustain.  On  the  other  hand,  it  may  be  not 
merely  received  into  the  mind,  but  made  a  subject  of 
thought  and  reflection  there  ;  it  may  be  analyzed  ;  the 
principles  it  explains  may  be  applied  to  the  circum- 
stances of  the  reader  ;  the  hints  may  be  carried  out,  and 
resolutions  formed  for  acting  in  accordance  with  the 
views  presented.  By  these  and  similar  means  the  reader 
becomes  possessed,  really  and  fully,  of  new  ideas  on  the 
subject  of  conversation.  His  thoughts  and  notions  in 
regard  to  it  are  permanently  changed.  His  knowledge, 
»n  a  M'^ord,  is  digested — assimilated  to  his  own  mind,  so 
as  to  become  as  it  were  a  part  of  it,  and  so  intimately 
united  with  it  as  not  to  be  separated  again. 

Now,  conversation  affords  one  of  the  most  important 
means  o(  digesting'  what  is  read  and  heard.  In  fact,  you 
cannot  talk  about  what  you  learn  without  digesting  it. 
Sometimes  two  persons  read  together,  aloud  by  turns  ; 
each  one  freely  remarking  upon  what  is  heard,  making 
inquiries,  or  bringing  forward  additional  facts  or  illus- 
tions  connected  with  the  subject.  Sometimes  two  per- 
sons reading  separately,  come  afterward  together  for  a 


368  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Cll.   11. 

Distinction  between  character  and  conduct. 

walk,  and  each  one  describes  his  own  book,  and  relates 
the  substance  of  what  it  contains  as  far  as  he  has  read, 
bringing  down  at  each  successive  meeting  the  narrative  of 
the  description  as  far  as  the  reader  has  gone.  By  this 
means  each  acquires  the  power  of  language  and  expres- 
sion, digests  and  fixes  what  he  has  read,  and  also  gives 
information  to  his  companion.  If  any  two  of  my  readers 
will  try  this  experiment,  they  will  find  much  pleasure 
and  improvement  from  it.  i 

III.  Writing.  The  third  and  perhaps  the  most  im- 
portant of  the  means  of  intellectual  improvement  is  the 
use  of  the  pen.  The  powers  of  the  pen,  as  an  instrument 
for  accomplishing  all  the  objects  of  intellectual  effort, 
discipline,  knowledge  and  skill,  are  almost  altogether  un- 
known among  the  young.  I  am  satisfied,  however,  that 
any  general  remarks  which  I  might  make  would  be  less 
likely  to  interest  my  readers  in  this  subject  than  a  parti- 
cular description  of  the  manner  in  which  they  can  best 
use  the  pen  to  accon)plish  the  objects  in  view.  I  shall 
accordingly  come  at  once  to  minute  detail. 

1.  PersonalJournals.  Every  young  person  old  enough 
to  write,  may  take  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  in  keeping  a 
journal  of  his  own  personal  history.  After  a  very  little 
practice  the  work  itself  will  be  pleasant,  and  the  improve- 
ment which  it  will  promote  is  far  greater  than  one  who 
has  not  actually  experienced  it  would  expect.  The  style 
should  be  a  simple  narrative  of  facts, — chiefly  descriptions 
of  scenes  through  which  you  have  passed,  and  memoranda 
in  regard  to  important  points  of  your  history.  Everything 
relating  to  your  progress  in  knowledge,  your  plans  for 
your  own  improvement,  the  books  you  read,  and  the  de- 
gree of  interest  which  they  excited,  should  be  noted 
down.  You  ought  not  to  l-esolve  to  write  every  day,,  be- 
cause sometimes  it  will  be  impossible,  and  then  when 
your  resolution  has  once  yielded  to  necessity,  it  will  af- 
terward more  easily  be  broken  by  negligence.    Resolre 


Ch.  11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT,  369 


Form  and  manner.  Running  titles 

simply  to  write  when  you  can,  only  be  careful  to  watch 
yourself,  and  see  that  you  persevere  in  your  plan,  whatever 
interruptions  may  for  a  time  suspend  it.  At  the  close  of 
the  week,  think  how  you  have  been  employed  during  the 
week,  and  make  a  record — a  short  one  at  least  you  cer- 
tainly can — of  what  has  interested  you.  When,  from  for- 
getfulness,  or  loss  of  interest  in  it,  or  pressure  of  other 
duties,  you  have  for  a  long  time  neglected  your  journal, 
do  not  throw  it  aside  and  take  up  a  new  book  and  begin 
formally  once  more — but  begin  where  you  left  off — fill- 
ing up  with  a  few  paragraphs  the  interval  of  the  history, 
and  thus  persevere. 

There  should  be  in  a  journal,  and  in  all  the  other  sets 
of  books  which  I  shall  describe,  a  double  running-  titles 
like  that  over  the  pages  of  this  book,  with  two  lines  ruled 
as  above,  so  that  the  general  title  maybe  above  the  upper 
one,  and  the  particular  subjects  of  the  each  individual 
page  above  the  under  one.  This  double  running  title 
would  be  in  the  following  form  : 

1833.  PERSONAL    JOURNAL.  62 

Ride  into  the  country.  Begin  botany.  My  sister's  sickness. 

The  reader  will  understand  that  the  number  62  repre- 
sents the  page.  Corresponding  with  1832  on  the  left  hand 
page,  should  be  written  the  name  of  the  place  in  which 
the  writer  resides,  and  the  word  private  may  be  used  in- 
stead of^  personal,  if  it  is  preferred.  The  book  should  be 
of  such  a  form  as  can  easily  be  written  in,  and  of  mode- 
rate or  small  size.  You  can  begin  a  second  volume  when 
you  have  finished  the  first,  and  the  volumes  will  in  a  few 
years  begin  to  be  numerous.  Some  persons  adopt  the 
plan  of  writing  in  little  books,  stitched  together,  made  of 
ten  half  sheets  of  letter-paper ;  folded  once,  with  a  plain 
marble-paper  cover.  These  little  pamphlets  are  more 
easily  written  in  than  bound  volumes,  and  after  a  dozen 
16* 


370  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   11, 

Family  Journal.  By  brothers  and  sisters.  Its  advantages. 

of  them  are  filled,  they  may  be  bound  up  by  a  book-binder 
into  a  volume  of  the  size  of  this  book.  I  have  seen  very 
many  manuscript  volumes  made  in  this  way. 

A  journal  now,  kept  in  this  systematic  manner,  will  be 
interesting  and  valuable,  if  you  describe  in  it  the  things 
that  most  interested  you  at  the  age  in  which  you  kept  it ; 
and  if  it  is  carried  on  regularly  through  life,  even  with 
such  interruptions  as  I  have  alluded  to,  it  will  be  a  most 
valuable^nd  most  interesting  document.  You  will  read  its 
pages  again  and  again  with  profit  and  pleasure. 

2.  Family  Journal.  Let  three  or  four  of  the  older  bro- 
thers and  sisters  of  a  family  agree  to  write  a  history  of 
the  family.  Any  father  would  procure  a  book  for  this 
purpose,  and  if  the  writers  are  young,  the  articles  intend- 
ed for  insertion  in  it  might  be  written  first,  on  separate 
paper,  and  then  corrected  and  transcribed.  The  subjects 
suitable  to  be  recorded  in  such  a  book  will  suggest  them- 
selves to  every  one  ;  a  description  of  the  place  of  resi 
dence  at  the  time  of  commencing  tl:c  book,  with  similar 
descriptions  of  other  places  from  lime  to  time,  in  case  of 
removals — the  journeys  or  absences  of  the  head  of  the 
family  or  its  members — the  sad  scenes  of  sickness  or 
death  which  may  be  witnessed,  and  the  joyous  ones  of 
weddings,  or  festivities,  or  holidays — the  manner  in  which 
the  members  are  from  time  to  time  employed — and  pic- 
tures of  the  scenes  which  the  fireside  group  exhibits  in 
the  long  winter  evening — or  the  conversation  which  is 
heard  and  the  plans  formed  at  the  supper-table,  or  in  the 
morning  walk. 

If  a  family,  when  it  is  first  established,  should  com- 
mence such  a  record  of  their  own  efforts  and  plans,  and 
the  various  dealings  of  Providence  toward  them,  the  fa- 
ther and  the  mother  carrying  it  on  jointly  until  the  chil- 
dren are  old  enough  to  take  the  pen,  they  would  Irnd  the 
work  a  source  of  great  improvement  and  pleasure.  It 
would  tend  to  keep  distinctly  in  view  the  great  object  for 


Ch.    11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  371 

Subjects.  —  Notes  and  Abstracts. 

which  they  ought  to  live,  and  repeatedly  recognizing,  as 
they  doubtless  would  do,  the  hand  of  God,  they  would 
feel  more  sensibly  and  more  constantly  their  dependence 
upon  him. 

The  form  and  manner  in  which  such  a  journal  should 
be  written  might  properly  be  the  same  with  that  de- 
scribed under  the  last  head — the  word  family  being 
substituted  for  personal  in  the  general  title.  It  ought 
also  to  be  written  in  such  a  style  and  upon  such  sub- 
jects as  shall  render  it  proper  to  give  children  free  access 
to  it.  On  this  account  it  will  be  well  to  avoid  such  par- 
ticulars, in  regard  to  any  child,  as  may  be  flattering  to  his 
vanity  when  he  shall  become  old  enough  to  read  them, 
and  to  refrain  from  making  a  record  of  faults  which  will 
remain  a  standing  source  of  suffering  and  disgrace,  when 
perhaps  they  ought  soon  to  be  forgotten.  It  is  true,  that 
one  of  the  most  important  portions  of  such  a  journal 
would  consist  of  the  description  of  tlie  various  plans 
adopted  for  correcting  faults,  and  for  promoting  improve- 
ment— the  peculiar  moral  and  intellectual  treatment  which 
each  child  received — the  success  of  the  various  experi- 
ments in  education  which  intelligent  parents  will  always 
be  disposed  to  try — and  anecdotes  of  children,  illustrat- 
ing the  language,  or  the  sentiments,  or  the  difficulties  of 
childhood.  With  a  little  dexterity,  however,  on  the  part 
of  the  writer,  a  faithful  record  of  all  these  things  can  be 
kept,  and  yet,  by  an  omission  of  names,  or  of  some  im- 
portant circumstances,  the  evils  I  have  above  alluded  to 
may  be  avoided. 

3.  Notes  and  Abstracts,  It  is  sometimes  the  case,  that 
young  persons,  when  they  meet  any  thing  remarkable  in 
the  course  of  their  reading,  transcribe  it,  with  the  ex- 
pectation of  referring  to  their  copy  afterward  to  refresh 
their  memories,  and  thus,  after  a  while,  they  get  their 
desks  very  full  of  knowledge,  while  very  little  remains 
in  the  head.    Now  it  ought  to  be  remembered  that  know- 


372  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    11, 

True  design  of  taking  notes. 

ledge  is  of  no  value,  or  at  least  of  scarcely  any,  unless 
it  is  fairly  lodged  in  the  mindi  and  so  digested,  as  I  have 
before  shown,  as  to  become  a  permanent  possession. 
Now,  if  transcribing  and  writing  notes  and  abstracts  of 
what  you  read  is  made  the  means  of  fixing  thus  firmly 
in  the  mind  your  various  acquisitions,  it  is  of  immense 
value ;  if  made  the  substitute  for  it,  it  is  worse  than  use- 
less. It  may  be  a  most  powerful  means,  as  any  one  may 
prove  to  himself  by  the  following  experiment. 

Read  some  history  in  the  ordinary  way,  without  the 
use  of  the  pen,  with  the  exception  that  you  select  some 
chapter  in  the  middle  of  the  work,  with  which  you  may 
try  the  experiment  of  an  abstract.  After  having  read  it 
attentively,  shut  the  book  and  write  the  substance  of  the 
narrative  it  contains.  The  more  you  deviate  in  style  and 
language  from  your  author  the  better,  because,  by  such 
a  deviation  you  employ  more  your  own  original  resources, 
you  reduce  the  knowledge  you  have  gained  to  a  form 
adapted  to  your  own  habits  of  thought,  and  you  conse- 
quently make  it  more  fully  your  own,  and  fix  it  more  in- 
delibly in  the  mind.  After  finishing  the  abstract  of  that 
chapter,  go  on  with  the  remainder  of  the  book  in  the 
usual  way,  by  simply  reading  it  attentively.  You  will 
find  now,  if  you  carefully  try  this  experiment,  that  the 
chapter  which  you  have  thus  treated  will,  for  many 
years,  stand  out  most  conspicuous  among  all  the  rest  in 
your  recollections  of  the  work.  The  facts  which  it  has 
stated  will  retain  possession  of  your  minds  when  all  the 
rest  are  forgotten,  and  they  will  come  up,  when  wanted 
for  use,  with  a  readiness  which  will  show  how  entirely 
you  made  them  your  own. 

It  is  on  this  principle,  and  with  such  a  view,  that  notes 
and  abstracts  are  to  be  written.  Some  very  brief  practi- 
cal directions  will  be  of  service  to  those  who  wish  to 
adopt  the  plan. 

Do  not  resolve  to  write  copious  abstracts  of  all  that 


Ch.   11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  873 

Form  of  books.  Plan.  Variety. 

you  read  :  the  labor  would  be  too  great.  Never  read, 
however,  without  your  abstract  book  at  hand,  and  record 
whatever  strikes  you  as  desirable  to  be  remembered. 
Sometimes,  when  reading  a  book  of  great  importance, 
and  full  of  information  which  is  new  and  valuable,  you 
may  write  a  full  abstract  of  the  whole.  Gibbon,  the  cele- 
brated historian,  attributed,  it  is  said,  much  of  the  suc- 
cess of  his  writing  to  the  influence  of  his  having  made  a 
very  copious  abstract  of  Blackstone's  Commentaries,  a 
most  interesting  book,  and  which  no  young  man  of  edu- 
cation can  read  without  profit  and  pleasure. 

Let  the  form  of  your  books  be  like  the  journals  above 
described  ;  with  ruled  lines  at  the  top  for  a  double  run- 
ning title,  to  facilitate  reference.  These  lines  should  be 
ruled  on  through  the  book  at  first,  at  least  they  should 
be  kept  ruled  far  in  advance  of  the  writing,  or  the  writer 
will  inadvertently  omit  to  leave  a  space  for  them.  I  have 
known  many  books  commenced  on  this  plan,  but  never 
one,  I  believe,  without  having  this  accident  occur  to  vex 
and  discourage  the  writer. 

Let  your  abstracts  be  of  every  variety  of  form  and  man- 
ner. Sometimes  long  and  sometimes  short,  sometimes 
fully  written  in  a  finished  style,  and  sometimes  merely  a 
table  of  contents  of  your  book.  There  may  be  a  blank 
line  left  between  the  separate  articles,  and  the  title  of  each 
should  be  written  before  it,  and  doubly  underscored,  that 
is,  distinguished  by  a  double  line  drawn  under  it.  This 
is  represented  in  printing  by  small  capitals.  When  this 
is  the  title  of  the  book  read,  and  is  prefixed  to  a  long  ab- 
stract, it  may  properly  be  placed  over  the  article.  Some- 
times the  writer  will  merely  copy  a  remarkable  expres- 
sion, or  a  single  interesting  fact ;  at  other  times  a  valuable 
moral  sentiment,  or  a  happy  illustration.  He  will  often 
insert  only  a  single  paragraph  from  a  long  book,  and  at 
other  times  make  a  full  abstract  of  its  contents.  But  I 
must  give  specimens,  as  by  this  means  I  can  much  more 


374  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    11. 

Specimens.  Reynolds.  Humboldt. 

readily  give  my  readers  an  idea  of  my  meaning.  These 
specimens  are  not  imaginary  ones.  They  are,  with  one 
or  two  exceptions,  all  taken  from  three  or  four  abstract 
books  of  different  young  persons,  who  lent  them  to  me 
for  this  purpose.  The  titles  in  capitals  represent  the  un- 
derscored words  described  above.  The  running  title  at 
the  top  should  be  like  the  specimen  already  given,  with 
the  exception  that  the  words  notes  and  abstracts 
should  be  substituted  for  personal  journal. 

Friendship.  A  man  should  keep  his  friendship  in  constant  repair. 
— Johnson. 

Reynolds.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  a  celebrated  portrait  painter,  co- 
temporary  and  friend  of  Johnson,  Goldsmith,  &c.  one  of  the  found- 
ers of  the  Royal  Academy,  and  for  many  years  its  President.  He  was 
born  near  Plymouth,  but  resided  in  London  during  most  of  his  life, 
occasionally  making  tours  to  the  continent.  He  nearly  lost  his  life 
in  the  close  of  life,  and  died  at  an  advanced  age,  of  a  disease  of  the 
liver. — J^orHicoles'  Life  of  Sir  Joshui;  Reynolds. 

Florence.  The  Academy  of  Fine  Arts  in  Florence  is  the  most 
celebrated  school  of  painting  in  th3  world. 

Humboldt's  New  Spain.  Introduction  gives  an  account  of  his 
own  geometrical  and  astronomical  observations  in  attempting  to  de- 
termine the  position  of  several  points,  and  likewise  the  other  sources 
of  information  which  he  had.  There  are  nine  points  at  each  of  which 
a  communication  has  been  proposed  to  be  made  between  the  Atlan- 
tic and  Pacific — Vera  Cruz  the  eastern,  and  Acapulco  the  western 
port  of  Mexico.  Gold  and  silver,  he  says,  travels  from  west  to  east ; 
the  ocean,  the  atmosphere,  and  civilization  in  a  contrary  direction. 

The  Andes  in  Peru  are  more  broken  and  rough  than  in  Mexico  ; 
the  plains,  though  elevated,  are  comparatively  small,  and  hemmed  in 
by  lofty  mountains,  or  separated  by  deep  precipitous  vallies. 

In  Mexico  the  chain  of  mountains  spreads  itself  out  into  immense 
plains,  with  few  sudden  declivities  or  precipices.  Fruits  of  every  cli- 
mate maybe  cultivated  on  these  elevations  at  the  various  heights,  but 
not  with  so  mucn  success,  on  account  of  the  rarefaction  of  the  atmos- 
phere, as  they  can  in  northern  latitudes.  At  certain  seasons  of  the 
year  both  coasts  of  Mexico  are  inaccessible  on  account  of  storms.  The 


Ch.    11.3  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  375 

Chronology.  English  Empire  in  India.  Synagogues. 

navigation  on  the  east  side  is  impeded  by  sand  banks  washed  in  by 
the  westerly  currents  of  the  ocean. 

Chronology.  Difference  between  the  chronology  of  the  Hebrew 
and  Septuagint  manuscripts. 

Mt.  Ararat  probably  in  the  north  of  Ictiia,  in  Shuckford's  opinion. 

English  Empiiie  in  India.  The  English  and  French  had  about  ihe 
middle  of  the  last  century  several  factories  on  various  parts  of  the 
coasts  of  Hindoostan.  In  their  quarrels  with  each  other  they  endea- 
vored to  secure  to  themselves  the  co-operation  of  the  natives,  and  in 
this  way  the  Europeans  and  the  Hindoos  became  involved  in  the  wars 
of  each  other.  The  English  were  generally  successful,  and  in  this 
way  gradually  extended  their  influence  and  their  power. 

Raja  Dowlah,  sovereign  of  Bengal,  a  wealthy,  extensive,  and  popu 
lous  country,  became  a  little  alarmed  at  the  progress  which  the  Eng- 
lish made  in  their  contentions  with  the  French  concerning  their  re- 
spective settlements  in  that  country.  He  endeavored  to  oppose  them, 
and  in  consequence  the  English  fomented  a  conspiracy  against  his 
government,  enticed  his  prime  minister  to  treason,  and  then,  after 
fighting  a  single  battle,  placed  him  in  command.  Col.  Clive  was  the 
instrument  of  this  revolution.  The  province  of  Bengal  thus  came  into 
the  hands  of  the  East  India  Company. 

A  short  time  afterward  the  French  were  conquered  at  Cororaan- 
del,  and  the  natives  brought  under  the  power  of  the  English. 

Synagogues.  It  is  generally  supposed  that  the  Jewish  synagogues 
originated  during  the  captivity,  and  were  continued  after  their  return. 
— Kimpion. 

I  should  suppose,  from  the  appearance  of  these  arti- 
cles, which  were  the  first  few  pages  of  a  large  book  of 
this  kind,  that  they  were  all  the  notes  taken  of  the  read- 
ing of  some  weeks,  as  several  books  of  considerable  size 
are  quoted  as  authority.  It  is  not  best  that  the  writer 
should  resolve  upon  any  particular  quantity  each  day,  or 
for  each  book,  and,  as  I  remarked  in  regard  to  the  jour- 
nal, when  you  find  that  you  have  for  some  time  neglected 
your  pen,  do  not  be  discouraged  and  give  up  the  plan, 
but  calmly  begin  where  you  left  off,  and  renew  your  work 
and  your  resolution  together. 


STG  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.   11. 

History  of  the  Bible.  Sir  Humphrey  Davy. 

Sometimes  the  abstracts  may  be  in  a  more  abridged 
style,  like  a  table  of  contents.  They  can  be  more  rapidly 
written  in  this  form,  but  the  benefit  derived  from  the  ex- 
ercise is  less.  The  following  is  an  example  from  another 
book,  by  another  writer.  You  will  perceive  that  the 
style  is  so  condensed  that  the  notes  can  merely  serve  as 
memoranda  for  the  writer's  own  use.  They  are  scarcely 
intelligible  to  another  person. 

History  of  the  Bible, 

Old  and  ^ew  T&ilaments.  Hebrew  and  Greek  Continua  Scriptio- 
At  various  times  and  places.  Samaritan  Pentateuch:  discrepancies 
between  it  and  the  Hebrew  Bible.  Controversy.  Discovery  in  mo- 
dern times  of  these  manuscrii)ts. 

Its  preservation  by  successive  transcripts.  Old  ones  worn  out  and 
lost.     Exemplars. 

Greek  Testament.     Why  in  Greek  ?     Circulated  in  manuscript. 

Textus  receptus.  Elzevir  Edition.  Pres.  manuscri[)ts  imperfect. 
Written  about  lOOO  or  1400  Alexandrian  manuscripts.  Vatican. 
Modes  of  determining  antiquity.     British  Museum. 

Trmislatims.  Sepluagirit.  Vulgate.  Printed  editions  of  the  Bible 
and  Greek  Testament.  Complutensian  Polyglot.  Sources  of  infor- 
mation. Manuscripts.  Septuagint.  Samaritan  Pentateuch  ;  quota- 
tions, 1514. 

English.  Wickliflfe's.  Oppositions  made  to  it.  Circulated  in  ma- 
nuscript. Tindal's  printed  in  Holland.  Efforts  to  keep  copies  outol 
England.  Bishop  of  London  bought  up  the  whole  edition  to  burn. 
James'  Bible.  Fifty-four  men  at  various  places,  Cambridge,  Oxford, 
and  Westminster.  Later  translations,  1607.  Forty-seven  men  of  the 
fifty  met  to  compare,  and  after  three  years'  labor,  issued,  in  1660,  the 
most  commonly  approved  version. 

Another  form  in  which  these  abstracts  may  be  written, 
where  the  importance  of  the  subject  or  the  interest  of  the 
reader  renders  it  desirable,  is  by  giving  a  full  and  com- 
plete view  of  the  facts  on  some  one  topic.  The  follow- 
ing, taken  from  a  third  abstract  book,  is  a  specimen  : 

Sir  Humphrey  Davy. 
Bom  at  Penzance,  Cornwall,  Eng.  Dec.  1779.     His  family  were  i* 


Ch.   11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  377 

Sir  Humphrey  Davy. 

the  middle  rank  in  life,  and  in  reduced  circumstances,  so  that  he  was 
thrown  upon  his  own  efforts  and  reso.urces  at  an  early  age.  At  the 
age  of  nine  years  distinguished  for  his  poetical  talents.  At  eighteen 
his  acquirements  in  many  of  the  sciences  were  good,  but  chemistry 
particularly  arrested  his  attention.  His  first  experiments  showed  ori- 
ginality, and  his  pursuit  promised  useful  discoveries.  His  first  exami- 
nation of  sea- weed  proved  that  marine  plants  exert  the  same  influence 
upon  the  air  contained  in  the  water  of  the  ocean,  as  land  vegetables 
exert  upon  the  atmosphere.  Two  years  after  commencing  his  chemi- 
cal studies  he  published  his  "Researches,"  which  exhibited  great 
skill,  and  gave  to  the  world  many  original  experiments  and  discove- 
ries. He  first  tried  the  experiment  of  inhaling  the  nilrous  oxide — the 
exhilarating  gas.  When  not  much  over  twenty  years  of  age  he  was 
designated  to  fill  the  chemical  chair  in  the  Royal  Institution  in  Great 
Britain,  founded  by  Count  Rumford.  His  first  efforts  in  this  elevated 
sphere  were  turned  toward  endeavoring  to  render  his  powers  useful 
and  advantageous  to  the  arts  employed  in  the  humbler  walks  of  life. 
The  tanning  of  leather  and  agricultural  implements  were  among  the 
subjects  of  his  first  attention,  and  he  adapted  himself  admirably  to  the 
circumstances  of  the  practical  agriculturist.  In  1806-7  he  made  his 
brilliant  discoveries  in  galvanism;  in  1810  he  brought  forward  his 
theory  respecting  the  nature  of  chlorine,  or  oxymuriatic  acid,  wnich 
gave  rise  to  a  memorable  controversy  that  agitated  the  schools  ot 
chemistry  ten  years.  At  the  close  of  this  period  nearly  the  whole 
army  of  chemists  came  over  to  his  side.  In  1812  he  was  knighted  by 
the  Prince  Regent,  (George  IVth,)  and  was  thus  released  from  the  ar- 
duous duties  of  the  professorship,  and  was  enabled  to  devote  himself 
wholly  to  his  pursuits.  His  attempts  to  unroll  the  valuable  MSS.  found 
in  the  ruins  of  Herculaneum,  1696  in  number,  were  frustrated  by  una- 
voidable obstacles  thrown  in  his  way  by  jealous  superintendents  of 
the  Museum  ;  but  the  enterprise  was  not  wholly  fruitless,  twenty-three 
MSS.  being  partially  unrolled.  The  year  1818  was  rendered  memo- 
rable by  the  invention  of  the  safety  lamp.  Terrible  disasters  had  oc- 
curred in  the  coal  mines  in  England  for  years — a  species  of  gas  extri- 
cated from  the  coal,  on  mixing  with  atmospheric  air,  takes  fire  from  a 
lamp,  and  explodes  with  great  violence.  All  previous  efforts  to  obvi- 
ate these  dangers  had  proved  ineffectual ;  but  the  experience  of  four- 
teen years,  while  this  lamp  has  been  in  constant  and  extensive  use, 
without  the  occurrence  of  a  single  explosion,  proves  its  importance, 
and  the  benefit  conferred  on  the  world  by  its  invention.  In  1820,  by 
a  majority  of  two  hundred  to  thirteen,  he  was  elected  President  of  the 
Royal  Institution.  His  last  great  scientific  effort  was  the  discovery  of 
a  method  of  protecting  the  copper  sheathing  of  ships  from  corrosion  by  sea~ 
water.     His  method  of  proceeding  in  this  and  all  similar  cases,  wa$ 


378  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    II. 

Hiring  children.  The  Savior's  thirst  on  the  cross. 

simple  and  obvious,  yet  one  rarely  followed,  viz.  first  to  ascertain 
the  cause  of  the  evil,  and  then  to  find  out  how  to  control  it  by  study- 
ing its  nature.  Ke  died  at  Geneva,  where  he  had  resorted  for  his 
health,  of  apoplexy,  aged  50  years  and  6  months. 

I  have  one  more  form  to  describe,  in  which  tliese  notes 
and  abstracts  may  be  kept.  It  requires  a  little  higher 
intellectual  effort,  and  is  consequently  more  useful  than 
the  other.  You  meet,  in  conversation  or  in  reading,  with 
some  fact  which  illustrates  a  useful  and  important  gene- 
ral principle,  or  which  suggests  to  you  an  interesting 
train  of  thought :  you  record  the  fact,  and  the  reflec- 
tions which  it  suggests  together.  For  example,  to  make 
use  of  a  case  which  actually  occurred,  a  sea  captain  re- 
marks in  your  hearing  that  it  is  unwise  to  promise  sailors 
extra  pay  for  their  extra  exertions  in  difficult  emergen- 
cies, for  it  soon  has  the  effect  of  rendering  them  indolent 
whenever  such  extra  pay  is  not  offered.  They  are  con- 
tinually on  the  watch  for  occasions  on  which  they  can 
demand  it.  This  conversation  might  suggest  the  follow- 
ing entry  in  a  note  book. 

Hiring  Children.  Parents  should  never  promise  their  children 
any  retvard  for  doing  right,  or  for  refraining  from  doing  wrong.  A 
sea  captain  was  once  so  unwise  as  to  promise  his  sailors  in  a  storm, 
that  if  thty  would  exert  themselves  he  would  reward  them  by  an  ad- 
dition to  their  wages  when  the  storm  was  over.  They  did  make  an 
unusual  effort,  and  received  the  reward  ;  but  the  consequence  was, 
that  he  could  never  afterward  get  them  to  do  their  duty  in  a  storm 
without  a  reward  being  promised.  In  the  same  manner,  if  parents 
begin  by  hiring  their  children  to  do  right,  they  will  not  afterward  do 
right  without  being  hired. 

The  following  are  similar  examples,  but  on  different 
subjects.  The  second  was  written  by  a  pupil  in  a  female 
school. 

The  Savior's  thirst  on  the  cross.  The  dreadful  thirst  of  the 
Savior  on  the  cross  was  occasioned  by  the  violent  fever  produced  by 


Ch.   11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  379 

Deceivirg  children.  Narratives. 

tlie  inflammation  of  his  wounds.     I  met  with  the  following  passage 
to-day  in  the  narrative  of  a  soldier,  which  illustrates  this  sii.bject : 

"I  remember  well  as  we  moved  down  in  column,  shot  and  shell 
flew  over  and  through  it  in  quick  succession.  We  sustained  little 
injury  from  either;  but  a  captain  of  the  twenty-ninth  had  been  dread- 
fully lacerated  by  a  ball,  and  lay  directly  in  our  path.  We  passed 
close  to  him  ;  he  knew  us  all ;  and  the  heart-rending  tone  in  which  he 
called  to  us  for  water,  or  to  kill  him,  I  shall  never  forget.  He  lay 
alone,  and  we  were  in  motion  and  could  give  him  no  succor ;  for  on 
this  trying  day,  such  of  the  dying  as  could  not  walk,  lay  unattended 
where  they  fell.  All  was  hurry  and  struggle;  every  arm  was  wanted 
in  the  field." 

Deceiving  Children.  Returning  from  school  yesterday  after- 
noon, my  attention  was  arrested  by  the  loud  voice  of  some  one  ad- 
dressing a  child ;  I  turned,  and  as  I  walked  very  leisurely,  I  overheard 
the  following  conversation : 

Lady.  John,  leave  off  playing  in  the  snow  ;  see  your  clean  clothes 
now  ;  and  your  shoes  are  filled  with  snow. 

John.  I  don't  care  for  that;  I  shall  play  here  if  I'm  a  mind  to,  for 
all  you. 

Lady,  You  little  impudence ;  I  don't  love  you,  I  don't  love  you 
at  all. 

John.     Well,  that's  no  matter. 

Ladi/.     I'll  go  off^,  then  ;  goodnight.     I  am  going  to  the  jail. 

She  turns  round  and  walks  down  the  street  a  little  distance 

Lady.     You  see  I'm  going,  John. 

John.     I  don't  care  if  you  are. 

Presently  she  walked  slowly  back  and  came  up  to  John,  at  the  same 
time  he  gave  a  hearty  laugh,  saying,  '•  I  thought  you  were  going  to  the 
jail." 

I  had  now  got  so  far  as  not  to  be  able  to  hear  what  more  they  said, 
but  I  could  not  help  pitying  the  child,  who  thus  early  was  taught  to 
disobey  his  superiors,  for  surely  it  is  nothing  less. 

Many  parents,  and  even  brothers  and  sisters,  complain  of  the  con- 
duct of  the  younger  members  of  their  families,  while  they  are  conti- 
nually treating  them  in  this  manner:  they  certainly  need  expect  no- 
thing better  from  them  while  they  endeavor  thus  to  deceive  them. 

The  above  examples  illustrate  well  what  I  mean  by 
turning  knowledge  to  account,  drawing  from  it  the  prac- 
tical lessons  which  it  may  help  to  teach.  This  is  in  fact 
the  most  important  part  of  your  object  in  mental  cultiva- 


380  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    11 

Ellen,  or  "  Boast  not  thyself  of  to-morrow." 

tion.  Many  young  persons  err  exceedingly  in  seek- 
ing simply  knowledge,  which  they  treasure  up  in  a  cold 
and  speculative  form,  without  drawing  from  it  any  moral 
lessons,  or  making  it  the  means  of  awakening  any  of  the 
strong  emotions  of  the  heart.  But  I  wish  my  readers 
would  always  remember  that  moral  progress  is  far  more 
valuable  than  intellectual;  the  latter  in  fact  is  but  the 
instrument  of  the  former.  In  all  your  writing  then,  aim 
at  accomplishing  the  real  object  which  ought  always  to 
be  kept  in  view.  In  selecting  from  your  reading,  or  from 
your  personal  observation,  what  you  will  impress  upon 
your  memories  with  the  pen,  choose  those  facts  and  oc- 
currences which  touched  your  hearts,  and  whose  impres- 
sions your  pen  may  strengthen  or  renew.  I  close  the 
chapter  with  two  specimens  which  will  illustrate  this. 
One,  as  will  be  evident  from  its  own  allusions,  was  writ- 
ten by  a  pupil  in  a  female  boarding  school ;  and  it  will  be 
observed  in  reading  it,  how  the  ordinary  occurrences  ol 
life  may  be  made  the  means,  through  the  instrumentality 
of  reflection  and  of  the  pen,  of  fixing  in  the  heart  the  les- 
sons of  the  Bible.  Both  narratives  are  substantially  true  ; 
the  latter  entirely  so. 

*'  Boast  not  tiitself  of  to-morrow."  Yesterday  our  summer 
term  closed,  and  a  day  of  bustle  it  was.  Every  moment  that  could 
possibly  be  spared  from  our  studies  was  devoted  (o  preparations  for 
returning  home,  packing  trunks,  exchanging  parting  words,  and  talk- 
ing over  various  plans  for  enjoyment  during  the  vacation,  which  all 
seemed  to  anticipate  as  a  continued  scene  of  unalloyed  happiness. 

My  afflicted  room-mate,  Ellen,  was  then  the  happiest  of  the  happy. 
She  is  an  only  daughter,  a  most  affectionate,  warm-hearted  girl ;  and 
has  been  so  much  elated,  for  the  last  few  days,  at  the  thought  of  meet- 
ing her  beloved  parents  and  brothers,  that  she  has  seemed  to  tread  on 
air;  but  I   fear  now  that  when  they  meet  it  will  be  in  a  deep  sorrow. 

Last  evening  we  assembled  in  the  hall  for  our  devotions,  and  as  is 
customary,  each  young  lady  repeated  a  text  of  Scripture  before  we 
united  in  prayer.  "  Boast  not  thyself  of  to-morrow,  for  thou  knowest 
not  what  a  day  may  bring  forth,"  was  Ellen's  text.  It  was  particularly 
observed  by  several,  on  account  of  the  appropriate  warning  it  seemed 


Ch.   11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  381 

The  etory  of  Ellen  continued. 

to  convey.  She  little  thought  how  soon  her  own  experience  would 
confirm  its  truth.  After  bidding  our  teacher  good  night,  she  skipped 
up  stairs  with  a  glee  and  light-heartedness  that  could  scarcely  be  re- 
strained within  proper  bounds,  exclaiming,  "to-morrow — to-morrow 
how  happy  I  shall  be  !" 

"Remember  your  text,  dear  Ellen,"  said  one  of  our  beloved  com. 
panionE  with  a  sad  smile,  as  she  passed  on  to  her  own  room.  "  I 
wish  J.  would  not  talk  so  seriously,"  said  Ellen,  as  we  closed  our  door 
for  the  night,  "  but  then,  after  all,  I  love  her  the  more  for  it.  I  heard 
some  one  say  that  she  had  been  much  afflicted  for  one  so  young." 

This  morning  Ellen  was  awake  at  the  peep  of  dawn,  and  waked  me, 
that  I  might  enjoy  with  her,  through  our  half-closed  curtains,  the 
deepening  glow  in  the  east,  which  gave  promise  of  a  fine  day  for  her 
ride  home.  When  the  bell  summoned  us  to  prayers,  every  thing  was 
ready  for  the  journey,  and  she  met  the  family  in  her  riding-dress,  that 
no  time  might  be  lost  after  her  father,  whom  she  expected  for  her, 
should  arrive. 

"  Boast  not  thyself  of  to  morrow,  for  thou  knowest  not  what  a  day 
may  bring  forth,"  were  the  first  words  that  met  our  ear  from  the  selec- 
tion of  Scripture  which  our  teacher  had  chosen  for  the  morning. 

"We  have  had  your  text  again,  Ellen,"  whispered  one  of  the  girls 
as  w'3  went  to  the  breakfast-room.  "  Ominous  of  evil — say  you 
not  so?" 

"  I  am  not  superstitious,"  said  Ellen  smiling ;  "  besides,  it  refers  to 
to-morrow,  not  to  to-chiy." 

At  the  breakfast-table  little  was  eaten  and  little  was  said.  There 
were  happy  faces  there,  but  the  joyous  excitement  of  the  preceding 
evening  had  given  place  to  deeper  feeling.  Many  were  in  a  few 
hours  to  meet  their  beloved  parents,  from  whom  they  had  been  sepa- 
rated for  several  months;  and  all  were  expecting  some  friend  to  take 
them  to  their  respective  homes.  Our  parting  was  not  however  to  be 
particularly  painful,  as  all  expected  to  meet  again  at  the  expiration  ol 
the  vacation 

As  we  were  rising  from  the  table  a  servant  came  in  with  the  letters 
which  had  arrived  in  the  morning's  mail.  One  was  given  to  Ellen. 
She  broke  the  seal,  and  glancing  at  the  contents,  hastily  placed  it  in 
the  hand  of  the  governess  and  rushed  up  to  her  own  room.  I  follow- 
ed, and  found  her  in  tears,  greatly  agitated.  Her  emotion  was  too 
great  to  allow  her  to  tell  me  the  cause.  The  governess  came  up  and 
gave  me  the  letter  to  read,  kindly  saying  at  the  same  time  that  I  had 
better  leave  Ellen  alone  a  few  minutes,  until  the  first  burst  of  sorrow 
should  be  over,  and  then  she  would  be  in  a  better  state  to  listen  to  the 
voice  of  consolation. 

The  letter  was  from  her  parents ;  brief,  yet  evidently  written  under 


S82  VOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    11. 

Ellen.  The  dying  bed 

the  influence  of  strong  excitement.  They  had  just  heard  of  the  sud- 
den and  dangerous  ilhiess  of  their  eldest  son,  a  young  gentleman  of 
high  promise,  who  had  nearly  completed  his  professional  studies. 
His  physicians  gave  not  the  slightest  hope  of  his  life.  His  parents 
made  immediate  preparations  for  leaving  home,  with  the  faint  hope 
that  by  rapid  traveling  they  might  be  enabled  to  be  with  their  belov- 
ed child  in  his  dying  moments.  They  could  not  take  Ellen  with  them, 
and  the  best  arrangement  they  could  make  for  her,  was  to  have  her 
remain  where  she  then  was  until  their  return. 

I  returned  to  Ellen,  but  found  her  scarcely  more  composed  than 
when  I  left  her.  To  this  brother  she  was  most  fondly  attached,  lie 
had  written  to  her  frequently,  and  taken  a  deep  interest  in  her  studies 
and  amusements.  He  expected  to  have  been  at  home  during  a  part 
of  her  vacation,  and  now  the  tiiought  of  never  meeting  him  again  was 
agony.  I  knew  not  what  to  say;  I  could  only  weep  with  her,  and 
silently  commend  her  to  "  Ilim  who  healeth  the  broken  in  heart,"  en- 
treating that  she  might  be  enabled  submissively  to  say,  "Thy  will 
h'd  done." 

My  father  consents  that  I  should  remain  for  two  or  three  days  with 
Ellen.  I  know  that  more  striking  instances  of  the  uncertainty  of 
earthly  prospects  are  constantly  occurring,  but  I  feel  that  the  scenes 
of  to-day  have  made  a;i  impression  upon  my  own  heart  and  the  hearts 
of  my  companions  that  can  never  be  effaced,  I  shall  never  again 
hear  others  planning  with  confidence  for  the  future,  without  thinking 
of  poor  Ellen's  disappointment  and  affliction,  and  of  tlie  text,  "  Boast 
not  thyself  of  to-morrow,  for  thou  knowest  not  what  a  day  may 
brino;  forth." 


The  other  narrative  is  more  serious  still  in  its  subject. 
Both  might  have  been  given  with  propriety  as  specimens 
of  Personal  Journals,  though,  as  they  do  not  give  strictly 
tlie  personal  history  of  the  writer,  they  may  perhaps  better 
be  inserted  here.  I  admit  this  last  the  more  readily,  as  tlie 
thoughts  of  the  final  account  which  we  all  must  render 
are  brought  up  very  distinctly  to  view  by  it,  and  this 
thought  is  a  very  proper  one  to  be  presented,  now  that 
this  volume  is  drawing  to  a  close,  as  a  means  of  fixing  the 
resolutions  which  I  trust  some  of  my  readers  at  least  have 
formed,  and  stimulating  to  diligence  in  duty. 


Ch.   IL]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  383 

The  dying  bed. 


The  Dying  Bed. 

On  Monday,  a  few  minutes  before  breakfast,  a  messenger  came  (o 
me  with  a  note  from  a  gentleman  whom  I  shall  call  Rlr.  A.  whose 
wife,  the  Saturday  previous,  was  taken  suddenly  ill.  She  became 
worse  and  worse,  until  she  was  considered  in  a  dangerous  situation. 
And  now  her  husband  addressed  a  note  to  me,  requesting  me  to  visit 
his  wife,  "  for  she  is,"  said  he,  "  as  sick  as  she  can  well  live." 

Immediately  after  breakfast  I  hastened  over  to  their  house,  and 
found  her  very  weak  and  low.  She  seemed  near  her  end.  Having 
understood  that  neither  herself  nor  husband  were  professing  Chris- 
tians, I  attempted  to  point  out  to  her  without  delay  the  way  to  be 
saved,  and  directed  her  mind  at  once  to  the  Savior  of  sinners.  She 
could  just  speak  a  few  words  in  faint  and  broken  whispers — just 
enough  for  me  to  ascertain  her  anxious  and  agitated  feelings.  I  en- 
deavored to  compose  her  mind,  and  to  explain  the  feelings  which 
were  becoming  in  us  as  sinners,  when  we  look  to  the  Savior  for  par- 
don and  peace.  She  looked  and  listened  with  intense  interest,  and  I 
have  seldom  felt,  as  I  then  did,  the  responsibility  of  trying  to  direct 
any  one,  but  especially  any  one  in  the  immediate  prospect  of  eternity, 
to  4he  Lamb  of  God,  w  ho  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world.  I  look- 
ed to  the  Savior  to  help  and  to  guide  me,  to  put  such  thoughts  in  my 
heart  and  words  in  my  mouth  as  he  saw  were  necessary,  and  as  would 
be  suited  to  the  sick,  and  as  I  supposed,  dying  woman.  I  besought  hira 
earnestly,  in  silence,  that  he  would  assist  mc  in  being  faithful  and 
useful  to  her  immortal  soul. 

After  some  few  questions,  and  some  remarks  and  quotations  from 
the  Savior's  words;  at  her  request  I  engaged  in  prayer.  Her  hus- 
band, one  son  about  12,  another  son  about  G  years,  and  her  youngest 
child  about  IS  months,  were  present.  Several  other  relations  and 
friends  were  also  there.  We  kneeled  around  her  bed-side  and  be 
sought  the  Lord  for  her.  Occasionally  the  voice  of  prayer  v.'as  inter- 
rupfed  by  the  swoon  into  which  she  was  falling  every  few  minutes. 
After  a  short  prayer,  we  rose.  All  was  silent,  except  the  sighir.g 
of  her  friends  around  her,  the  noise  of  the  fan,  and  the  catching  of 
her  breath  as  she  recovered  from  a  swoon. 

After  a  tew  minutes  had  elapsed,  during  which  she  seemed  strug- 
gling with  sickness  and  with  a  tumult  of  feeling  in  her  bosom,  she 
called  the  ditt'erent  members  of  her  family  around  her.  First  to  her 
husband  she  addressed  herself  somewhat  in  these  words: 

"  And  now,  my  dear  husband,  I  hope  you  w  ill  keep  your  resolution, 
and  not  let  the  next  communion  season  pass  without  making  a  pro- 


^84  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  11. 

The  dying  bed. 


fession.*  I  have  been  more  lukewarm  than  you.  If  I  had  been  as 
much  engaged  as  you  have  we  should  have  both  of  us  been  mem- 
bers of  the  church  long  ago,  but  I  have  held  back.  I  hope  you  will 
not  fail  to  keep  your  resolution  "' 

She  then  most  affectionately  bade  him  farewell,  expressing  the  ten- 
derest  interest  in  his  religious  purposes,  and  in  the  hope  of  a  happier 
meeting  in  heaven.  After  a  moment's  pause  she  took  her  eldest  son 
by  the  hand  and  addressed  him  as  follows : 

*'  And  now,  my  dear  son  William,  I  am  going  to  leave  you.  Your 
poor  mother  is  going,  and  you  will  be  left  without  father  or  mother  in 
the  world:!  but  Mr.  A.  has  always  treated  you  as  one  of  his  own 
children  ;  and  if  you  will  be  good  and  obedient  he  will  always  be  a 
fither  to  you.  Be  a  good  boy,  my  son,  and  God  will  take  care 
of  you." 

The  poor  little  boy  as  he  held  his  mother's  hand  in  one  of  his  own, 
and  covered  his  eyes  with  the  other,  wept  and  sobbed  as  though  his 
heart  would  break.  She  then  took  her  little  Edward  by  the  hand,  and 
li  tdc  him  a  similar  and  e<]ually  affecting  adieu. 

The  youngest,  about  18  months  old,  she  requested  to  be  laid  upon  a 
pillow  in  her  bosom.     She  tenderly  embraced  it,  and  all  icept. 

She  then  called  for  her  mother-in-law,  who  was  behind  her,  (the 
bed  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room;)  "And  what  shall  I  say  to 
you,"  said  she — "  you  have  been  a  mother  to  me.''  She  turned  to  a 
gentleman  who  had  been  a  long  and  valued  friend,  and  who  was  now 
at  her  side  fanning  her,  and  in  tears,  and  taking  his  hand,  expressed 
her  ardent  affection  and  gratitude  toward  him  for  his  kindness  and  at- 
tention during  their  long  acquaintance.  She  alluded  to  an  interview 
with  him  many  years  ago,  and  seemed  most  deeply  affected  in  re- 
membrance, as  I  thought,  of  some  proofs  of  real  fraternal  kindness 
which  she  then  received  from  him. 

She  sent  her  last  message  to  her  parents,  brothers  and  sisters,  and 
when  her  strength  and  voice  failed  her,  she  just  uttered  in  a  faint 
whisper, 

"  Please  to  sing,  '  Life  is  the  time  to  serve  the  Lord.'  " 

A  lady  who  was  present,  and  whose  eyes  and  heart  were  full,  s^^id, 

••'  I  would  take  another — *  O  for  an  overcoming  faith  !'  " 

The  hymn  book,  however,  was  given  to  her  husband,  who  read  two 

lines  at  a  time  of  the  hymn  his  wife  had  named,  when  all  who  could 

sing,  and  whose  emotions  would  allow  it,  joined  in  singing,  until  the 

husband,  completely  overcome,  dropped  his  head,  unable  to  proceed. 

*Thoy  had,  at  a  commun'oa  service  in  their  neighborhood,  a  short  time  before, 
unitedly  resolved  to  improve  the  next  occasion,  which  was  expected  in  a  (ew  weeks, 
to  connect  themselves  with  the  church,  and  enter  upon  all  the  duties  ofcbristian  life. 

t  Ho  was  the  eon  of  her  former  husband. 


Ch.    11.]  PERSONAL    IMPROVEMENT.  385 

Bforal  aspects  of  what  is  seen  and  heard.  Power  of  the  pen. 

Another  then  took  the  book,  and  as  well  as  we  could,  with  tears  and 
faltering  voices  we  closed  the  hymn. 

As  I  read  over  my  description  of  this  scene,  I  am  so  struck  with  its 
utter  weakness,  that  I  almost  regret  that  I  attempted  to  make  it. 
It  made  an  impression  upon  my  mind  that  I  cannot  transcribe.  O 
that  the  delusive  hope  of  preparing  for  death  upon  a  death-bed  were 
banished  forever  from  the  earth. 

I  have  inserted  the  two  foregoing  specimens,  in  order 
to  bring  up  as  distinctly  as  possible  this  principle,  viz. 
that  in  all  your  efTorls  at  intellectual  improvement  you 
ought  to  lock  with  special  interest  at  the  moral  bearings 
and  relations  of  all  which  you  read  or  hear.  The  heart 
is  the  true  seat  both  of  virtue  and  happiness,  and  conse- 
quently to  affect  the  lieart  is  the  great  ultimate  object  of 
all  that  we  Ho.  The  intellect  then/ .  only  ^Ae  arcTiwe  by 
which  the  heart  is  to  be  reached,  and  you  will  derive  not 
only  more  benefit,  but  far  greater  pleasure  from  reflection 
and  writing,  if  you  are  accustomed  to  consider  the  moral 
aspects  and  relations  of  every  thing  which  you  observe, 
or  of  which  you  read  or  hear. 

A  great  prominence  has  been  given  in  this  chapter  to 
the  use  of  the  jpen,  as  a  means  of  intellectual  and  moral 
improvement.  I  assure  my  readers  that  the  power  of  the 
pen  for  such  a  purpose  is  not  overrated.  I  am  aw^are  that 
a  great  many  persons,  though  they  may  approve  what  I 
have  said,  will  not  make  any  vigorous  and  earnest  efforts 
to  adopt  the  plan.  Still  more  will  probably  begin  a  book 
or  two,  but  will  soon  forget  their  resolution,  and  leave 
the  half-finished  manuscript  in  some  neglected  corner  of 
their  deslis  finally  abandoned.  But  if  any  should  adopt 
these  plans,  and  faithfully  prosecute  them,  they  will  find 
that  practice  in  expressing  in  their  own  language,  with 
the  pen,  such  facts  as  they  may  learn,  and  such  observa- 
tions or  reflections  as  they  may  make,  will  exert  a  most 
powerful  influence  upon  all  the  habits  of  the  mind,  and 
upon  the  whole  intellectual  character. 

n 


CHAPTER  XII. 

CONCLUSION. 

"  And  now  I  commend  you  to  God,  and  to  the  word  of  his  grace, 
which  is  able  to  build  you  up  and  give  you  an  inheritance  among  them 
that  are  sanctified." 

As  I  draw  toward  the  close  of  this  volume  I  think  of 
the  influence  which  it  is  to  exert  upon  the  many  wh-o  will 
read  it,  with  mingled  emotions  of  hq|)e  and  fear.  I  have 
endeavored  to  state,  and  to  illustrate  as  distinctly  as  I 
could,  the  principles  of  Christian  duty  ;  and  if,  my  reader, 
you  have  perused  these  pages  with  attention  and  care, 
they  must  have  been  the  means  of  bringing  very  plainly 
before  your  mind  ti:?  question,  whether  you  will  or  will 
not  confess  and  forsake  your  sins,  and  henceforth  live  to 
God,  that  you  may  accomplish  the  great  object  for  which 
life  was  given.  I  shall  say  nothing,  in  these  few  conclud- 
ing paragraphs,  to  those  who  have  read  thus  far  without 
coming  in  heart  to  the  Savior.  If  they  have  not  been 
persuaded  ere  this  to  do  it,  they  would  not  be  persuaded 
by  any  thing  which  I  have  time  and  snace  now  to  say.  I 
have  however,  before  ending  this  volume,  a  few  parting 
words  for  those  who  have  accompanied  me  thus  far,  with 
at  least  some  attempt  at  self-application — some  desire  to 
cherish  the  feelings  which  I  have  endeavored  to  portray 
— some  penitence  for  sin,  and  resolutions  to  perform  the 
duties  which  I  have  from  time  to  time  pressed  upon  them. 

It  is,  if  the  Bible  is  true,  a  serious  tiling  to  have  oppor- 
tunity to  read  a  religious  book — and  more  especially  for 
the  young  to  have  opportunity  to  read  a  practical  treatise 
on  the  duties  of  piety,  written  expressly  for  their  use. 
The  time  is  coming  when  we  shall  look  back  upon  all  our 
privileges,  with  sad  reflections  at  the  recollections  of 
those  which  we  have  not  improved  ;  and  it  is  sad  for  me  to 
tliink  that  many  of  those  who  shall  have  read  these  pages 
will  in  a  future,  and  perhaps  not  a  very  distant  day,  look 


Ch.  12.]  CONCLUSION.  38f 

Responsibility  of  religious  teachers.     Injury  to  be  done  by  this  book. 

upon  me  as  the  innocent  means  of  aggravating  their  suf- 
ferings, by  liaving  assisted  to  bring  them  light,  which 
they  nevertheless  would  not  regard.  This  unpleasant  part 
of  my  responsibility  I  must  necessarily  assume.  I  share 
it  with  every  one  who  endeavors  to  lay  before  men  the 
principles  of  duty,  and  the  inducements  to  the  perfor- 
mance of  it.  He  who  enlightens  the  path  of  piety,  pro- 
motes the  happiness  of  those  who  are  persuaded  to  walk 
in  it,  but  he  is  the  innocent  means  of  adding  to  the  guilt 
and  misery  cf  such  as  will  still  turn  away.  To  one  class 
of  persons,  says  Paul,  *'  we  are  the  savor  of  death  unto 
tleath,  and  to  the  other,  the  savor  of  life  unto  life.'' 

It  is  not  merely  to  those  who  absolutely  neglect  or  re- 
fuse to  do  their  duty  to  God,  that  the  ill  consequences  of 
having  neglected  their  privileges  and  means  of  improve- 
ment will  accrue.  These  consequences  will  be  just  as 
sure  to  those  who  partially  neglect  them.  I  will  suppose 
that  a  young  person,  M'hose  heart  is  in  some  degree  re- 
newed, and  who  has  begun  to  live  to  God,  hears  of  tliis 
book  and  procures  it  to  read.  She  feels  desirous  of  cul- 
tivating Christian  principles,  and  she  sits  down  to  her 
work  with  a  sincere  desire  to  derive  spiritual  benefit  from 
■the  instructions.  She  does  not  run  over  the  pages,  dis- 
secting out  the  stories  for  the  sake  of  the  interest  of  the 
narrative,  and  neglecting  all  the  applications  of  them  to 
the  purposes  of  instruction  ;  but  she  inquires  when  a  fact 
or  an  illustration  is  introduced,  for  what  purpose  it  is 
used — what  moral  lesson  it  is  intende'l  to  teach — and  how 
she  can  learn  from  it  something  to  guide  her  in  the  dis- 
charge of  duty.  She  goes  on  in  this  manner  through  the 
book,  and  generally  understands  its  truths  and  the  prin- 
ciples it  inculcates.  But  she  does  not  cordially  and  in 
full  earnest  engage  in  the  practice  of  them.  For  exam- 
ple, she  reads  the  chapter  on  confession,  and  understands 
what  I  mean  by  full  confession  of  all  sins  to  God,  and 
forms  the  vague  and  indefinite  resolution  to  confess  h.er 


388  YOUNG     CHRISTIAN.  [CIl.    12. 

Imperfect  self-application.  A  useless  way  of  reading. 

sins  more  minutely  than  she  has  done  ;  but  she  does  not, 
in  the  spirit  of  that  chapter,  explore  fully  all  her  heart, 
and  scrutinize  with  an  impartial  eye  all  her  conduct,  that 
every  thing  which  is  wrong  may  be  brought  to  light,  and 
frankly  confessed  and  abandoned.  She  does  not,  in  a 
word,  make  a  serious  and  an  earnest  business  of  confess- 
ing and  forsaking  all  sin. 

In  another  case,  a  young  man  who  is  perhaps  sincerely 
a  Christian,  though  the  influence  of  Christian  principle 
is  yet  weak  in  his  heart,  reads  that  portion  of  the  work 
which  relates  to  the  Sabbath.  He  knows  that  his  Sab- 
baths have  not  been  spent  in  so  pleasant  or  profitable  a 
manner  as  they  might  be,  and  he  sees  that  the  principles 
pointed  out  there  would  guide  him  to  duty  and  to  happiness 
on  that  day,  if  he  would  faithfully  and  perseveringly  apply 
them  to  his  own  case.  He  accordingly  makes  a  feeble  reso- 
lution to  do  it.  The  first  Sabbath  after  he  reads  the  chap- 
ter his  resolutions  are  partially  kept.  But  he  gradually 
neglects  them,  and  returns  to  his  former  state  of  inaction 
and  spiritual  torpor  on  God's  holy  day.  Perhaps  I  ex- 
press myself  too  strongly  in  speaking  of  inaction  and 
torpor  as  being  a  possible  state  of  mind  for  a  Christian  on 
the  Sabbath;  but  it  must  be  admitted  that  many  approach 
far  too  near  to  it. 

Now  there  is  no  question  that  many  Young  Christians 
will  read  this  book  in  the  manner  I  have  above  described ; 
that  is,  they  throw  themselves  as  it  w eve  passively  before 
it,  allowing  it  to  exert  all  the  influence  it  will  by  its  own 
power,  but  doing  very  little  in  the  way  of  vigorous  effort 
to  obtain  good  from  it.  They  seem  to  satisfy  themselves 
by  giving  the  book  an  opportunity  to  do  them  good,  bu 
do  little  to  draw  from  it,  by  their  oivn  efforts,  the  advan- 
tages which  It  might  afford.  Now  a  book  of  religious 
instruction  is  not  like  a  medicine,  which,  if  it  is  once  ad- 
mitted into  the  system,  will  produce  its  effect  without  any 
farther  effort  on  the  part  of  the  patient.     It  is  a  tool  for 


Ch.   12.]  CONCLUSION.  ^^ 

Effectual  reading.  Plan  recommended. 

you  to  use  industriously  yourself.  The  moral  powers 
will  not  grow  unless  you  cultivate  them  by  your  own  ac- 
tive efforts.  If  you  satisfy  yourself  with  merely  bringing 
moral  and  religious  truth  into  contact  with  your  mind, 
expecting  if,  by  its  own  power,  to  produce  the  hoped  for 
fruits,  you  will  be  like  a  farmer  who  should,  in  the  spring, 
just  put  a  plough  or  two  in  one  part  of  his  field,  and  half 
a  dozen  spades  and  hoes  in  another,  and  expect  by  this 
means  to  secure  a  harvest.  Many  persons  read  religious 
books  continually,  but  make  no  progress  in  piety.  The 
reason  is,  their  ov/n  moral  powers  arc  inert  while  they 
do  it.  The  intellect  may  be  active  in  reading  and  under- 
standing the  successive  pages,  but  the  heart  and  the  con- 
science lie  still,  hoping  that  the  truth  may  of  itself  do 
them  good.  They  bring  the  instrument  to  the  field  ar.d 
lay  it  down,  and  stand  by  its  side,  wondering  why  it  does 
not  do  its  work. 

I  beg  my  readers  not  to  treat  this  volume  in  that  way, 
and  not  to  suppose  that  simply  reading  and  understand- 
ing it,  however  thoroughly  it  may  be  done,  will  do  them 
any  good.  The  book,  of  itself,  never  can  do  good.  It  is 
intended  to  show  its  readers  how  they  may  do  good  to 
themselves,  and  it  will  produce  no  good  effect  upon  arijr 
who  are  not  willing  to  be  active  in  its  application  and  use. 

Do  you,  my  reader,  really  wish  to  derive  permanent 
and  real  benefit  from  this  book?  If  so,  take  the  followin<»- 
measures  ;  it  is  a  course  which  it  would  be  well  for  you 
always  to  take  at  the  close  of  every  book  you  read  on 
the  subject  of  duty.  Recall  to  mind  all  those  passages 
which,  as  you  have  read  its  pages,  have  presented  to 
you  something  which  at  the  time  you  resolved  to  do.  Re- 
collect, if  you  can,  every  plan  recommended,  which,  at 
the  time  when  you  were  reading  it,  seemed  to  be  suited  to 
your  own  case,  and  which  you  then  thought  yon  should 
adopt.  If  you  have  forgotten  them,  you  can  easily  call 
them  to  mind  by  a  little  effort,  or  by  a  cursory  reviev/, 

17* 


390  YOUNG     CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    12. 


Be  in  earnest. 


You  will  thus  bring  up  again  to  your  minds  those  points 
in  which  the  instructions  of  the  book  are  particularly- 
adapted  to  your  own  past  history  and  present  spiritual 
condition. 

After  having  thus  fully  reconsidered  the  whole  ground, 
and  gathered  all  the  important  points  which  are  pecu- 
liarly adapted  to  your  own  case  into  one  view,  consider 
deliberately,  before  you  finally  close  the  book,  what  you 
will  do  with  regard  to  them.  If  any  thing  has  been  made 
plain  to  be  your  duty,  consider  and  decide  distinctly  whe- 
ther you  will  do  it  or  not.  If  any  thing  has  been  shown 
to  be  conducive  to  your  happiness,  determine,  deliberate- 
ly and  understandingly,  whether  you  will  adopt  it  or  not. 
Do  not  leave  it  to  be  decided  by  chance,  or  by  your  own 
accidental  feelings  of  energy  or  of  indolence,  what  course 
you  will  take  in  reference  to  a  subject  so  momentous  as 
the  questions  of  religious  duty.  I  fear,  however,  that  not- 
withstanding all  that  I  can  say,  very  many,  even  among 
the  most  thoughtful  of  my  readers,  will  close  this  book 
without  deriving  from  it  any  permanent  good,  either  in 
their  conduct  or  their  hearts.  It  will  have  only  produced 
a  few  good  intentions,  which  will  never  be  carried  into 
effect,  or  aroused  them  to  momentary  effort,  which  will 
soon  yield  again  to  indolence  and  languor. 

There  is  no  impression  that  I  would  more  strongly  de- 
sire to  produce  in  these  iew  remaining  pages,  than  that 
you  should  be  in  earnest,  in  deep  and  persevering  earnest, 
in  your  efforts  after  holiness  and  salvation.  If  you  are 
interested  enough  in  religion  to  give  up  the  pleasures  of 
sin,  you  lose  all  enjoyment  unless  you  grasp  the  happi- 
ness of  piety.  There  are,  at  the  present  day,  great  num- 
bers in  whose  hearts  religious  principle  has  taken  so 
strong  a  hold  as  to  awaken  conscience  and  to  destroy 
their  peace,  if  they  continue  to  sin  ;  but  they  do  not  give 
themselves  up  with  all  their  hearts  to  the  service  of  the 
Savior.     They  feel,  consequently,  that  they  have  lost  the 


Ch.  12.]  CONCLUSION.  391 

A  great  proportion  of  life  gone. 

world  ; — they  cannot  be  satisfied  with  its  pleasures,  and 
they  are  unhappy,  and  feel  that  they  are  out  of  place 
when  in  the  company  of  its  votaries.  But  though  they  have 
thrown  themselves  out  of  one  home,  they  do  not,  in  ear- 
nest, provide  themselves  with  another.  They  do  not  give 
all  the  heart  to  God.  No  life  is  more  delightful  than  one 
spent  in  intimate  communion  with  our  Father  above,  and 
in  earnest  and  devoted  efforts  to  please  him  by  promoting 
human  happiness  ;  and  none  is  perhaps  mere  unhappy, 
and  prepares  more  effectually  for  a  melancholy  dying 
hour,  than  to  spend  our  days  with  the  path  of  duty  plain 
before  us,  and  conscience  urging  us  to  walk  in  it,  while 
we  hang  back,  and  walk  with  a  slow  and  hesitating  step, 
and  look  away  wistfully  at  the  fruits  which  we  dare  nol 
taste.  Do  not  take  such  a  course  as  this.  When  you 
abandon  the  world,  abandon  it  entirely  ; — and  when  you 
choose  God  and  religion  for  your  portion,  do  it  with  all 
your  heart.  Outrun  conscience  in  the  path  of  duty,  in- 
stead of  waiting  to  have  your  lagging  steps  quickened  by 
her  scourge. 

Once  more.  Much  less  of  life  is  left  to  you  than  you 
generally  suppose.  Perhaps  the  average  age  of  the  read- 
ers of  this  book  is  between  fifteen  and  twenty,  and  fifteen 
or  twenty  years  is  probably,  upon  an  average,  half  of  life. 
I  call  you  young,  because  you  are  young  in  reference  to 
the  active  business  of  this  world.  You  have  just  reached 
the  full  development  of  your  powers,  and  have  conse- 
quently but  just  begun  the  actual  work  of  life.  The  long 
years  that  are  past  have  been  spent  in  preparation.  Hence 
you  are  called  young — you  are  said  to  be  just  beginning 
life,  understanding,  by  life,  the  pursuits  and  the  business 
of  maturity.  But  life,  if  you  understand  by  it  the  season 
of  preparation  for  eternity,  is  more  than  half  gone  ; — life, 
so  far  as  it  presents  opportunities  and  facilities  for  peni- 
tence and  pardon — so  far  as  it  bears  on  the  formation  of 
character,  and  is  to  be  considered  as  a  period  of  proba- 


392  YOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.    1^ 


Closing  address  to  parents. 


tion — is  unquestionably  more  than  half  gone  to  those 
who  are  between  fifteen  and  twenty.  In  a  vast  number 
of  cases  it  is  more  than  half  gone,  even  in  duration,  at 
that  time  ;  and  if  we  consider  the  thousand  influences 
which  crowd  around  the  years  of  childhood  and  youth, 
winning  to  piety,  and  making  a  surrender  to  Jehovah 
easy  and  pleasant  then,  and  on  the  other  hand  look  for- 
ward beyond  the  years  of  maturity,  and  see  these  influ- 
ences losing  all  their  power,  and  the  heart  becoming 
harder  and  harder  under  the  deadening  eflects  of  conti- 
nuance in  sin,  we  shall  not  doubt  a  moment  that  the 
years  of  immaturity  make  a  far  more  important  part  of 
our  time  of  probation  than  all  those  that  follow. 

You  do  riglit  then,  when  you  are  thinking  of  your 
business  or  your  profession,  to  consider  life  as  but  begun  ; 
but  when  you  look  upon  the  great  work  of  preparation 
for  another  world,  you  might  more  properly  consider  it 
as  nearly  ended.  Almost  all  moral  changes  of  character 
are  usually  efl^ectcd  before  the  period  at  which  you  have 
arrived,  and  soon  all  that  will  probably  remain  to  you  on 
earth  is  to  exemplify,  for  a  {ew  years,  the  character 
which  in  early  life  you  formed.  If,  therefore,  you  would 
do  any  thing  in  your  own  heart  for  the  cause  of  truth  and 
duty,  you  must  do  it  in  earnest,  and  must  do  it  now. 

I  have  intended  this  book  chiefly  for  the  young,  but  I 
cannot  close  it  without  a  word  at  parting  to  tliose  of  my 
readers  who  have  passed  the  period  of  youth.  If  the 
work  shall  at  all  answer  the  purpose  for  which  it  is  in- 
tended, it  will,  in  some  instances  at  least,  be  read  by  the 
mature ;  and  I  may  perhaps,  without  impropriety,  ad- 
dress a  few  words  respectfully  to  them. 

You  are  probably  parents  ;  your  children  have  been 
reading  ihis  book,  and  you  have  perhaps  taken  it  up  be- 
cause you  are  interested  in  whatever  interests  them. 
You  feel    also  a    very   strong  desire  to  promote   their 


Ch.  12.]  CONCLUSION.  393 

Their  co-operation.  Ways  in  which  they  may  co-operate. 

piety,  and  this  desire  leads  you  to  wish  to  hear,  yourselves, 
whatever  on  this  subject  is  addressed  to  them.  I  have 
several  times  in  the  course  of  this  v/ork  intimated,  that 
the  principles  which  it  has  been  intended  to  illustrate 
and  explain,  are  equally  applicable  to  young  and  old. 
It  has  been  adapted,  in  its  style  and  manner  only,  to  the 
former  class ;  and  I  have  hoped  as  I  have  penned  its 
pages,  that  a  father  might  sometimes  himself  be  affected 
by  truths  which  he  was  reading  during  a  winter  evening 
to  his  assembled  family ;  or  that  a  mother  might  take  up 
the  book  purchased  for  her  children,  and  be  led  herself 
to  the  Savior  by  a  chapter  which  was  mainly  written  for 
the  purpose  of  winning  them.  I  do  not  intend,  however, 
to  press  here  again  your  own  personal  duties.  I  have 
another  object  in  view. 

That  object  is  to  ask  you  to  co-operate  fully  and  cor- 
dially in  this,  and  in  all  similar  efforts  to  promote  the 
welfare  of  your  children.  If  you  have  accompanied  them 
through  this  volume,  you  will  know  w^hat  parts  of  it  aie 
peculiarly  adapted  to  their  condition  and  wants.  These 
parts  you  can  do  much  to  impress  upon  their  minds  by 
your  expls.nations,  and  by  encouraging  them  to  make  the 
efforts  they  require.  The  interest  which  a  father  or  a 
mother  takes  in  such  a  book,  is  a  pretty  sure  criterion — 
it  is  almost  the  very  regulator  of  that  felt  by  the  child. 

If  you  notice  any  thing  in  the  volume  which  you  think 
erroneous,  or  calculated  to  lead  to  error  ;  or  if  there  is 
any  faults  which  your  child  discoverc  and  brings  to  you, 
with  a  criticism  which  you  feel  to  be  just,  do  not  deny  or 
attempt  to  conceal  the  fault  because  it  occurs  in  a  book 
whose  general  object  and  aim  you  approve.  Separate 
the  minute  imperfections  from  the  general  object  and  de- 
sign of  the  whole  ;  and  while  you  freely  admit  a  condem- 
nation of  the  one,  show  that  it  does  not  affect  the  charac- 
ter of  the  other,  and  thus  remove  every  obstacle  which 
would   impede  what  is  the  great  design  of  the  book,  to 


394  VOUNG    CHRISTIAN.  [Ch.  12. 

Religious  example  of  parents. 

press  the  power  of  religious  obligation  in  its  most  plain 
and  simple  form. 

On  the  other  hand,  do  not  magnify  the  faults  which  you 
may  find,  or  think  you  find,  or  turn  off  the  attention  of 
your  children  from  the  serious  questions  of  duty  which 
the  book  is  intended  to  bring  before  the  conscience  and 
the  heart,  to  a  cold  and  speculative  discussion  of  the 
style,  or  the  logic,  or  the  phraseology  of  the  author.  A 
religious  book  is  in  some  degree  entitled  to  the  privilege 
of  a  religious  speaker.  Parents  easily  can,  on  their  walk 
home  from  church,  obliterate  all  serious  impressions  from 
the  minds  of  their  childrrn,  by  conversation  which  shows 
Ihat  they  are  looking  ouxj  at  the  literary  aspects  of  the 
performance  to  which  they  have  listened.  In  the  same 
manner  they  can  destroy  the  influence  of  a  book,  by 
turning  away  attention  from  the  questions  of  duty  which 
it  brings  up,  to  an  inquiry  into  the  logic  of  an  argument, 
or  a  comment  upon  the  dullness  or  the  interest  of  a  story. 

There  is  one  thing  more  which  I  may  perhaps  with- 
out impropriety  say.  Your  religious  influence  over  your 
children  will  depend  far  more  on  your  example  than  upon 
your  efforts  to  procure  for  them  good  religious  instruc- 
tion. They  look  to  you  for  an  exemplification  of  piety, 
and  if  they  do  not  see  this,  you  cannot  expect  that  they 
will  yield  themselves  to  its  principles  on  your  recom- 
mendation. Your  children,  too,  must  see  piety  exempli- 
fied in  a  way  which  they  can  appreciate  and  understand. 
To  make  vigorous  efforts  for  the  support  of  the  Gospel 
— to  contribute  generously  for  the  various  benevolent 
objects  of  the  day — and  even  to  cultivate  in  your  hours 
of  secret  devotion  the  most  heartfelt  and  abasing  peni- 
tence for  sin,  will  not  alone  be  enough  to  recommend 
piety  efl!ectually  to  your  children.  They  look  at  other 
aspects  of  your  conduct  and  character.  They  observe 
the  tone  of  kindness  or  of  harshness  with  whicli  you 
speak — the  tranquillity  or  the  irritation  with  which  yoii 


Ch.  12.]  CONCLUSION.  395 

Blessing  obtained  by  religious  example. 

bear  the  little  trials  and  disappointments  of  life — your 
patience  in  suffering,  and  your  calmness  in  danger.  They 
watch  you  to  observe  how  faithfully  you  perform  the  or- 
dinary duties  of  your  station.  They  look  with  eager  in- 
terest into  your  countenance,  to  see  with  what  spirit  yoc 
receive  an  injury,  or  rebuke  what  is  wrong. 

By  making  faithful  and  constant  efforts  to  live  like 
Christians  yourselves,  and  to  exhibit  to  your  children 
those  effects  of  piety  upon  your  conduct  and  character 
which  they  can  understand  and  appreciate,  and  by  adapt- 
ing religious  instruction  to  the  peculiar  intellectual  habits 
of  the  young,  you  may  anticipate  a  sure  and  an  abundant 
blessing  upon  your  labors.  Childhood  is  a  most  fertile 
part  of  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord.  The  seed  which  is 
planted  there  vegetates  very  soon,  and  the  weeds  which 
spring  up  are  easily  eradicated.  It  is  in  fact  in  every  re- 
spect an  easy  and  a  pleasant  spot  to  till,  and  the  flowers 
and  fruits  which,  with  proper  effort,  will  bluom  and  ripen 
there,  surpass  all  others  in  richness  and  beauty. 


THE  END. 


MAR  1  ^   ly'S^