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TRACTS 



AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



General SeruB. 




VOL. VIII. 



PRINTED BY THE 
AMEEICAN TRACT SOCIETY 

150 NASSAXJ-STREET, NEW YORK. 



CONTENTS. 



VOL. VIII. 

No. Pages. 

255. Romanism Contradictory to the Bible. By Rev. Thomas 

Hartwell Home, M. A., 40 

256. Poor Swaizeland, 8 

257. " Life from the Dead," 8 

258. Three Queries to the Rejecters of Christianity. By Rev. 

Andrew Fuller, 8 

259. A View^ of the Evidences of Christianity. By J. Fletcher, 4 

260. For Ever ! From Rev. Richard Baxter, .... 4 

261. The Tap-root, 4 

262. To those Commencing a Religious Life, .... 8 

263. Indecision in Rehgion, ....... 8 

264. George Lovell, 16 

265. Duties of Church-Members. By Rev. Thos. H. Skinner, D. D., 16 

266. Blind Betsey, or Comfort for the Afflicted, .... 8 

267. " I am an Infidel," 4 

268. To the Confident, the Diffident, and the Careless, . . 8 

269. Shall I come to the Lord's Supper? .... 8 

270. A Traveller at the End of her Journey. By Rev. Richard 

Knill, 8 

271. Prayer. By Rev. Seth Williston, 28 

272. The Advantages of Sabbath-Schools, .... 16 

273. The Lost Soul, 4 

274. The Scotsman's Fireside, 8 

275. The Amiable Louisa. From " The Young Christian," . 8 

276. Bible Argument for Temperance. By Rev. Austin Dickinson, 12 

277. The Eternal Misery of Hell. By Rev. James Saurin, . 8 

278. Means of a Revival. By President Edwards, . . 8 ^ 

279. " What have I Done V By Rev. Wm. Nevins, D. D., . 12 

280. Don't Unchain the Tiger, 4 



4 CONTENTS. 

No. Pages. 

281. The Almost Christian. By Rev. H. A. Boardman, D. D., . 16 

282. David Baldwin, or the Millers Son, .... 16 

283. Alarm to the Careless, 8 

284. Lydia Sturtevant, or the Fatal Resolution. By Rev. Eliakim 

Phelps, D. D., 8 

265. What is a Call to the Ministry ? By Rev. James D. Knowles, 20 

286. Dying Testimony of Believers and Unbelievers. ByWm.C. 

Brownlee, D. D., 32 

287. The General's Widow. By W. C. Brownlee, D. D., . .32 

288. Four Reasons against the Use of Alcoholic Liquors. By 

John Gridley, M. D., . . . . . . .12 

289. To a Lady in Fashionable Life, 8 

290. The Bold Blasphemer, 8 

291. Horrors of Heathenism, 16 

292. Are you Ready] 4 

293. Eliza, the Chippewa Indian, 8 

294. Marks of Saving Faith. By Rev. J. Dickinson, . . 12 

295. Marks of True Repentance. By Rev. J. Dickinson, 16 

296. Mistakes of Parents. By Rev. John A. Vaughn, D. D., . 16 



IVo. 253. 

'ROMAIISM 

CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE 



BY REV. THOIUS HARTWELL HORNB, M.A, 

AUTHOR OF THE INTRODUCTION TO THE BIBLE, ETC. 



I. OF THE HOLY SCRIPTURES 

1. The holy Scriptures are a complete rule of faith. 
The divmely-inspired apostle Paul affirms that the holy 
Scriptures "are able to make us wise unto salvation;" and 
that " all Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is 
profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for 
instruction in righteousness, that the man of God may be 
perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works." 2 Tim. 
3: 15-17. 

Now, if the "man of God," or Christian minister, who 
is to instruct others, and to declare unto them the whole 
counsel of God, so far as is necessary for their attainment 
of salvation, be perfectly instructed for the discharge of his 
high and responsible office from the Scriptures, these must 
necessarily contain all saving truth, all that is needful to 
be known by him, and by every private Christian, in order 
to salvation. Compare Psalm 19:7, 8; Isaiah 8:20; 2 
Peter, 1: 19-21 ; John 20: 31. 

Conformably to these declarations, all Protestant 
churches admit of no other rule of faith and practice than 
the Scripture, " which containeth all things necessary to 
salvation." 

Further, the Scriptures prohibit all additions from being 
made to them by any mortal. " Ye shall not add unto the 

VOL. VIII. 1*" 



2 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 

word which I command you." Dent. 4 : 2. "Every word 
of God is pure. Add thou not unto his word, lest he 
reprove thee, and thou be found a har." Prov. 30 : 5, 6. 
*' I testify unto every man that heareth the words of the 
prophecy of this book, If any man shall add unto these, God 
shall add unto him the plagues that are written in this 
book." Rev. 22 : 18. 

Agreeably to these declarations of holy writ, " whatso- 
ever is not read therein, nor may be proved thereby, is not 
to be required of any man that it should be believed as an 
article of the faith, or be thought requisite or necessary to 
salvation ;" nor has the church a right to enforce any thing 
besides the Scriptures to be believed as necessary to salva- 
tion. 

But the Church of Rome, in direct contradiction to the 
divine commands, equals unwritten traditions with the holy 
Scriptures, and pronounces a curse on all that do not receive 
those traditions. " I most steadfastly admit and embrace 
the apostolical and ecclesiastical traditions, with the rest 
of the constitutions and observations of the said church." 
Creed of Pius lY,, Art. 13. "All saving truth is not con- 
tained in the holy Scripture, but partly in the Scripture 
and partly in unwritten traditions ; which whosoever doth 
not receive, with like piety and reverence as he doth the 
Scriptures, is accursed." Concil. Trident. Sess. 4. Decret. 
de Can. Script.* 

2. Canon of Scripture. " In the name of Scripture we 
understand those canonical books of the Old Testament, of 
whose authority there never was any doubt in the church." 

But the Romish church makes the apocryphal books 
of equal authority with those of the Old and New Testa- 
ment, although such apocryphal books ivere never recognized 
as canonical by the Jews, to whom were committed the 

* The decisions of the Council of Trent, referred to here and 
elsewhere in this Tract, are acknoAvledged as binding by every 
true Roman Catholic. 



ROM AM ISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 3 

oracles of God, nor by the primitive church, nor by any 
general council, nor by the modern Greek church. "If 
any one doth not receive all these books," i. e. the apocry- 
phal books, which are intermixed with the genuine and ca- 
nonical books, " with every part of them, as they use to be 
read in the [Roman] Catholic church, and as they are con- 
tained in the ancient vulgar Latin edition, for holy and ca- 
nonical, and shall knowingly contemn the aforesaid tradi- 
tions, let him be anathema." Cone. Trid. Sess. 4, de Can. 
Script. 

It is worthy of observation, that, besides the above- 
stated reasons why Protestants reject the apocryphal books, 
these books clearly and manifestly evince that they never 
were inspired, not only by the fabulous and contradictory 
statements they contain, and which are directly at variance 
with the canonical Scriptures, but also by the virtual ac- 
knowledgments made by some of the authors of the apoc- 
ryphal books, that they were not inspired. Thus, in the 
prologue to the book of Ecclesiasticus, the son of Sirach 
entreats the reader to pardon any errors he may have com- 
mitted in translating the works of his grandfather Jesus 
into Greek. In 1 Mace. 4 : 4G, and 9 : 27, it is confessed 
that there was at that time no divinely-inspired prophet in 
Israel ; consequently, the author of that book neither was 
nor could be an inspired writer. The second book of Mac- 
cabees, 2 : 33, is an avowed abridgment of the books of 
Jason and Cyrene ; and the author concludes, 15 : 38, with 
the following words, which are utterly unworthy of a per- 
son writing by inspiration : " If I have done well, and as is 
fitting the story, it is that which I desired ; but, if slenderly 
and meanly, it is that which I could attain unto." 

Fahulous statements in the Apoa-yphal books. 1. Rest of chap- 
ters of Esther, 10 : 6. "A little fountain became a river, and there 
was light, and the sun, and much water. This river is Esther, 
whom the king married and made queen." 14 : 2. 

2. The story of Bel and the Dragon is, confessedly, a mere 



4 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 

fiction, Avliich contradicts the account of Daniel's being cast into 
the lion's den. 

Contradictory statements. 1. The author of the book of the 
Wisdom of Solomon alludes to the people of Israel, as being in 
subjection to their enemies, which was not the case during Solo- 
mon's reign. We read, indeed, that he had enemies in the per- 
sons of Hadad, Rezon, and Jeroboam, 1 Kings, 11 : 14, 23, 25, 
26, who vexed him ; but we nowhere find that they subdued his 
people, and the schism of the ten tribes did not take place untU 
after the death of Solomon. 

2. Baruch is said, 1 : 2, to have been carried into Babylon at 
the very time when Jeremiah tells us, 43 : 6, 7, that he was car- 
ried into the land of Egypt. 

3. The story in 1 Esdras, 3 : 4, besides wanting every mark of 
the majesty and sanctity of the sacred writings, contradicts Ezra's 
account of the return of the Jews from Babylon under Cyrus. 

4. The first and second books of Maccabees contradict each 
other ; for in the former, 1 Mace. 6 : 4-16, Antiochus Epiphanes 
is said to have died in Babylon ; and in the latter he is represented, 

Jirst, as having been slain by the priests at Nanea, in Persia, 2 
Mace. 1 : 13-1 6, and afterwards, 9 : 28, as dying a miserable death 
in a strange country among the mountains. 

5. In the book of Tobit, the angel that is introduced, 5 : 12, 
as representing himself as being a kinsman of Tobit, in 12: J 5, 
contradicts himself, by affirming that he is Raphael, one of the 
holy angels. The author of this book has also added to the views 
of God and of Providence, delineated in the Old Testament, tenets 
of Assyrian or Babylonian origin. 

Contradictory doctrines. 1. Prayers for the dead. " And when 
he had made a gathering throughout the company, to the sum 
of two thousand drachms of silver, he sent it to Jerusalem, to 
oflfer a sin-offering, doing therein very well and honestly ; for, if 
he had not hoped that they that Avere slain should have risen 
again, it had been superfluous and vain to pray for the dead." 
2 Mace. 12 : 43, 44. This statement contradicts the whole tenor 
of the sacred writings, which nowhere enjoin or allow of prayers 
for the dead. 

2. The heathen notion of the transmigration of souls, which is 
equally contradictory to the Bible, is asserted in Wisd. 8:19, 20. 
" For I was a Avitty cliild, and had a good spirit ; yea, rather, being 
good, I came into a body undefiled." 



ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 5 

3. Justification by the tvorks of the law, in opposition to the 
Scriptures, which teach that we are justified or accounted right- 
eous only by faith, is taught in various parts of the apocryphal 
books. " The just, which have many good works laid up with 
thee, shall out of their own deeds receive reward." 2 Esdras, 
3 : 33. " Prayer is good with fasting, and alms and righteous- 
ness Alms doth deliver from death, and shall purge 

away all sins. Those that exercise alms and righteousness shall 
be filled with life." Tobit 12 : 8, 9. " Whoso honoreth his father, 
maketh atonement for his sins." Ecclus. 3:3. " Alms maketh 
an atonement for sins." 3 : 30. " To forsake unrighteousness is 
a propitiation." 35 : 3. 

4. Sinless perfection. " Riches are good unto him that hath 
no sin." Ecclus. 13 : 24. But what say the Scriptures ? " There 
is not a just man upon earth, that doeth good, and sinneth not." 
Eccles. 7 : 20. " All have sinned, and come short of the glory 
of God." Rom. 3 : 23. " If we say that we have no sin, we de- 
ceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us." 1 John, 1 : 8. 

Immoral practices commended in the apocryphal books, which 
practices are prohibited in the Scriptures. 

1. Lying. The instances already cited may also be adduced 
here. 

2. A desperate act of suicide — which is expressly forbidden in 
Exod. 20 : 13, Thou shalt not kill—\B related in 2 Mace. 14 : 41- 
46, as a manful act, and in terms of great commendation. 

3. Jissassination, which is equally prohibited, is commended 
in the book of Judith, 9 : 2-9, in the case of the Shechemites, 
whose base murder is justly condemned in Gen. 49 : 7. 

4. Magical incantations, which are forbidden in Levit. 19 : 26, 
and Deut. 18: 10, 11, 14, are introduced in Tobit 6: 16, 17, as 
given by the advice of an angel of God. 

To the preceding instances, which are directly at variance 
with the divinely inspired Scriptures, we may add, that in the 
apocryphal books there are passages which are so inconsistent 
with the relations of all other profane historians, that they cannot 
be admitted without much greater evidence than belongs to these 
books. Thus, 1 Mace. 8 : 16, it is said that the Romans " com- 
mitted their government to one man every year, who ruled over all 
that countiy, and that all were obedient to that one, and that 
there was neither envy nor emulation among them." 

This assertion is contradicted by evei-y Roman historian, with- 



6 ROMAMSM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 

out exception. The imperial government was not established 
until more tlian a century after tlie time when the first book of 
Maccabees was written. In like manner, the account, in Mace. 
1 : 6, 7, of the death of Alexander, misnamed the Great, is not 
supported by any of the historians who have recorded liis last 
hours. 

3. It is the duty of all to read the Scriptures. The 
Scriptures, both by precept and example, represent it to be 
the duty of all to read them. " Search the Scriptures," 
is the command of Jesus Christ. John 5 : 39. "I charge 
you," says St. Paul, "that this epistle be read to all the 
holy brethren." 1 Thess. 5: 27. Take unto you, he says 
to the Ephesians, without exception, "the sword of the 
Spirit, which is the word of God," Eph. 6 : 17 ; by which 
we are enabled to repel the temptations and to resist the 
assaults of the devil. See also Col. 3 : 16. The same 
apostle addresses the first part of his Epistles, not to the 
presbyters or bishops, but " to the churches of God, to 
them that are sanctified in Christ Jesus, and to all that 
call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ." See Rom. 
1 : 7 ; 1 Cor. 1 : 2 ; 2 Cor. 1:1; Gal. 1:2; Eph. 1 : 1. 
The apostle James, in like manner, addresses his Epistle 
to the "twelve tribes that are scattered abroad," 1:1; 
and Peter his first Epistle, 1 : 1, "to the strangers scattered 
throughout Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithy- 
nia ;" and his second Epistle yet more generally, " to all 
that have obtained like precious faith with us," 1 : 1 ; the 
apostle John writes to fathers, young men, and children. 
Now, what pretence can there be to hinder those persons 
from reading the Epistles which were addressed to them ? 
The Bereans are commended for their diligent searching of 
the Scriptures. Acts 17 : 11. It was the duty of the 
Jews to have the law in their houses, and to read it to their 
children, Deut. 6 : 7-9; and much more must it be the 
duty of all Christians to peruse the Gospel, since they live 
under a greater and richer dispensation. 



IIOMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 7 

But the Churcli of Rome prohibits the reading of the 
Scriptures by the common people, alleging that more prejvi- 
dice than benefit would arise to them from such perusal — 
Cone. Trid. Sess. 4, Decret. de Can. Scrip. — and makes it 
peril for booksellers to deal in Bibles. In the 4th Rule of 
the Index Librorum prohibitorum, it is thus enacted : " In- 
asmuch as it is manifest from experience, that if the Holy 
Bible, translated into the vulgar tongue, be indiscriminately 
allowed to every one, the temerity of men will cause more 
evil than good to arise from it" — with as much reason 
might men be prohibited from eating or drinking, for fear 
they should abuse that liberty — " it is on this point refer- 
red to the judgment of the bishops or inquisitors, who may, 
by the advice of the priest or the confessor, permit the 
reading of the Bible, translated into the vulgar tongue by 
Catholic authors, to those persons whose faith and piety, 
they apprehend, will be augmented and not injured by it ; 
and this permission they must have in writing. But if any 
one shall have the 'pre8umi:)tion to read or possess it with- 
out such written permission, lie shall not receive absolution 
until he have first delivered up such Bible to the ordinary. 
Booksellers who shall sell or otherwise dispose of Bibles in 
the vulgar tongue to any person not having such permis- 
sion, shall forfeit the value of the books, to be applied by 
the bishop to some pious use, and shall be subjected to 
such other penalties as the bishop shall judge proper. But 
regulars shall neither read nor purchase such Bibles, with- 
out a special license from their superiors." 

Perfectly in unison with this decree is the Encyclical 
Letter of Leo XII., dated May 3d, 1824, and addressed to 
all patriarchs, primates, archbishops, and bishops. "We 
also, venerable brethren, conformably to our apostolical duty, 
exhort you diligently to occupy yourselves, by all means, 
to turn away your flock from these deadly pastures''' — the 
unadulterated Scriptures, translated into the vulgar tongue 
and circulated by Protestants, which this " servant of the 



8 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 

servants of God" had just before termed a " Gospel of the 
DeviV — " reprove, beseech, be instant in season and out 
of season, in all patience and doctrine, that the faithful 
entrusted to you, adhering strictly to the rules of our con- 
gregation of the Index, be persuaded that if the sacred 
Scriptures be everywhere indiscriminately published, more 
evil than advantage will arise thence, on account of the 
rashness of men." 

It is no wonder that the Romish Church is so inveterate 
against Christian people obeying the word of God, and 
reading it. The new doctrines contained in the creed of 
Pius IV. have no warrant in Scripture ; and the assembly at 
Trent innovated in matters of faith, by setting up unwritten 
tradition for a rule of it. 

II. PRIVATE JUDGMENT IN MATTERS OF RELIGION— PRETENDED 
INFALLIBILITY OF THE POPE. 

1. The holy Scriptures invite and command inquiry. 
''Prove all things," says St. Paul; ''hold fast that which 
is good.". 1 Thess. 5 : 21. "Beloved, believe not every 
spirit,"or teacher, "but try the spirits, whether they are of 
God ; because many false prophets are gone out into the 
world." 1 John, 4:1. How are we to do this, if we must 
take all things upon trust, and without any examination 
whatever ? "I speak as unto wise men ; judge ye what I 
say." 1 Cor. 10 : 15. "Be ye ready always to give an 
answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope 
that is in you." 1 Pet. 3:15. 

But how can Christians give such answer, unless they 
understand and judge of the grounds of faith themselves ? 
" Though we," says Paul, " or an angel from heaven, preach 
any other Gospel to you than that which ye have received, 
let him be accursed." Gal. 1 : 8. Which passage plainly 
supposes that Christians may read, and can judge for them- 
selves, when and what doctrines are contrary to the Gos- 
pel, and that they ought to do it, and not blindly rely upon 
any one — no, not an apostle, or an angel from heaven. 



ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 9 

In contradiction to these and many other texts of Scrip- 
ture which might be produced, the Romish church claims 
to be infalHble, and that it belongs to her to judge of the 
sense of Scripture ; so that all persons are bound by her 
judgment and decisions. Cone. Trid. Sess. 4, Decret. de 
Edit, et Usu Libr. Sac. Catechism of the Council of Trent, 
Creed, Art. 9, § 19, p. 96, Lond. 1687. And in the Creed 
of Pius lY., Art. 14, every Romanist thus declares : "I 
also receive the holy Scriptures according to that sense 
which the holy mother church — to whom it belongs to 
judge of the true sense and interpretation of the holy 
Scripture — did, and doth hold. Nor will I ever take and 
interpret it otherwise than according to the unanimous con- 
sent of the Fathers." 

2. Pretended infallibility of the Poi^e. The papal 
claim to infallibility has no foundation in Scripture, reason, 
or antiquity. Romanists, it is well known, are not agreed 
among themselves where this pretended infallibility exists ; 
whether in the pope, or in a general council, or in the 
diffusive body of Christians. Both pojjes and general 
councils have notoriously contradicted one another ; and 
therefore neither of them can be infallible. To mention 
only a few instances. Gregory, surnamed the Great, 
about the latter end of the sixth century, declared that 
whoever should claim the universal episcoimte would be 
the forerunner of antichrist. Epist. lib. 6, ep. 30. Yet 
this very universal episcopate was assumed, three or four 
years afterwards, by Boniface III., and has been subse- 
quently claimed by numerous pontiffs who have sat in what 
they are pleased to call the chair of St, Peter. Pope Six- 
tus Y., in 1590, pubhshed an edition of the Latin Yulgate, 
which, by a bull, he commanded should be received every- 
where, and in all cases, for true, legitimate, authentic, and 
undoubted ; and that all future editions should be made 
conformable to tliis, not the least syllable being changed, 
added, or omitted, on pain of the greater excommunication. 

VOL. VIII. 2 



10 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 

Notwitlistanding all bis infallibility, Clement YIII., not very 
long after, revoked tbe decree of Sixtus, siqjpressed bis edi- 
tion, and piiblisbed anotber of bis own, in whicb he made 
more tban 2,000 corrections. 

These fatal variances between editions alike promulgated by 
pontifTs claiming infallibility, have been exposed by various Prot- 
estant divines. Thomas James, in his " Bellum Papale, sive Con- 
cordia Discors Sixti V.," Londonini, 1600, 4to, has pointed out 
very numerous additions, omissions, co>'tradictions, and other 
differences between the editions of the two infallible pontiffs, Six- 
tus V. and Clement VIII. Specimens of these contradictions may 
be seen in the author's Introduction to the Critical Study and 
Knowledge of the Holy Scriptures, vol. 2. 

This pretended infallibility is supposed to proceed from 
the Holy Ghost ; but how could the Holy Ghost dwell in 
the hearts of some of those pontiffs who have -vrorn the 
triple crown ? The popes and Saints Eleutherius and Vic- 
tor both sanctioned the heresy of the Montanists : under 
Dioclesian's persecution, Saint Marcellus denied the faith 
of Christ and sacrificed to idols at tbe prospect of imme- 
diate death. "He lived," we are told, " to repent of bis 
momentary departure from the faith ; but his case affords 
another remarkable example of tbe supposed infallible suc- 
cession." Liberius, who had been deposed for his ortho- 
doxy, in order to regain his see, subscribed an Arian formu- 
lary of faith, which Hilary, Bishop of Aries, designates " a 
blasphemous creeds" 

" In looking upon Liberius as a frail and erring mortal, sorely 
tempted and beset, banished from home, friends, and country, we 
pause before we pass a severe sentence upon him, remembering 
that, Avere we equally tempted, our faith might have failed like his. 
But when we view him as an infallible pontiff, we are obliged 
to look upon his conduct in anotlier light ; and, while we commis- 
erate the frailty of tlie man, to adduce it as a proof of the un- 
founded nature of those claims, which rest on the supposition of 
an unerring succession of infallible guides. . . . The historians 
arid those strenuous advocates of papal infallibility, Baronius and 
Bellarmine, appear verj' desirous of soflening down, as much as 



ROMANlSftI COiNTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. H 

possible, this uncompromising circumstance, conscious no doubt 
that, if admitted to the full extent, it would completely invalidate 
the pretension of freedom from doctrinal error in the successors of 
Saint Peter. Bellarmine, finding the subject too difficult even for 
his Jesuitical skill, sums up his arguments by remarking, that, 
however these things may be, Liberius neither taught heresy, 
NOR was a heretic, but merely sinned in the outward act. But 
these palliating attempts are vain. ' St. Hilary, bishop of Poic- 
tiers. Op. pp. 1158, 1134-1137, speaks of this papal lapse, of v/hich 
he was an eye-witness, very plainly and openly ; not being very 
anxious, it seems, to screen the infaUihle chair.^ His language is 
very strong. 'I anathematize thee, O Liberius, thee and thy com- 
panions ; again I anathematize thee ; and for the third time, I say 
unto thee, O Liberius, that thou art a prevaricator.' And, among 
other very strong tenns employed, he designates the creed signed 
by Liberius ' a blasphemous creed.' The same testimony is borne 
by St. Jerome, Chron. ad. ann. ; and indeed the papal historian 
Dupin, Eccl. Hist., vol. 2, p. 63, acknowledges that all the ancient 
authors speak of the fall of Liberius as the approbation of the 
heresy of the Arians." Keary's View of Papal and Concilian In- 
fallibility, pp. 18-20. 

Saint Felix, the successor of Liberius, was also an 
Arian. Saint Zosimus openly favored the heresy of Pala- 
gius and Celestius. Vigilius, who favored the Servian her- 
esy, a branch of that broached by Eutyclies, obtained the 
see of Rome by bribery ; banished the bishop who had 
been canonically elected, and who, on the evidence oi forged 
letters, had been accused of corresponding with the hostile 
Goths ; and Vigilius changed his opinions only four times. 
Honorius I. determined in favor of the Monothelite heresy, 
and condemned, as heretical, the opinion of the orthodox 
bishops. John XII. who, at the early age of sixteen, with- 
out having been in holy orders, or indeed capable of ordi- 
nation, was placed in St. Peter's chair by his father Alberic, 
a Roman consul — this ''monster of iniquity," as Cardinal 
Baronius terms him, was convicted of simony, perjury, sac- 
rilege, murder, and blasphemy, and deposed by the emperor 
Otho, who appointed Leo VIII. in his room. Resuming 



12 ROIMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 

his dignity by means of an armed force, John assembled a 
council of his supporters, and, in the fulness of papal 
power, disannulled all that had been enacted against him. 
While the emperor was preparing to make an example of 
the miquitaus but infallible prelate, he fell a sacrifice to the 
vengeance of a dishonored husband. John XVIII. was a 
layman; and his successor, Boniface IX., Avho at the age 
of ten years purchased the papacy, after ten years of profli- 
gacy, rapine, and murders, was forcibly and ignominiously 
expelled by the Romans ; and after a temporary resumption 
of his dignity, finding the hatred of the people on the point 
of bursting forth again to violent measures, sold the right 
and title to infallibility to the ignorant and unlettered Greg- 
ory VI. John XXIII. w^as utterly destitute of all princi- 
ples, both of religion and probity ; and, after purchasing 
the cardinalate, 2^oisoned his predecessor, Alexander V. 
This infallible pontiff w^as deposed for his various crimes. 
Alexander VI. disgraced his dignity by his ambition, ava- 
rice, cruelties, and debaucheries ; and, by a righteous reac- 
tion of divine Providence, died, having by mistake taken 
that poison which he had prepared for some cardinals whom 
he had invited to an entertainment. Not to dwell on other 
crimes which have disgraced the occupants of the holy see, 
numerous popes and antipopes have reigned at various 
times, all of them claiming to be infallible, and anathema- 
tizing their antagonists. For a full exposure of the un- 
founded claims to infalhbility, the reader is referred to the 
Rev. W. Keary's Historical Review of Papal and Conciliar 
Infallibihty, London, 1826, 12mo, from w^hich the preced- 
ing statement is abridged, and which is supported in all its 
details by the authorities of Romanist historians. 

Ill CLAIMS OF THE ROMISH CHURCH TO SUPREMACY. 

Jesus Christ prohibited all disputes concerning rank and 
preeminency in his kingdom. " Ye know," he said, '' that 
the princes of the Gentiles exercise dominion over them. 



ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. I3 

and they that are great exercise authority upon them. But 
it shall NOT he so among you : but whosoever will be great 
among you, let him be your minister ; and whosoever will 
be chief among you, let him be your servant : even as the 
Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minis- 
ter, and to give his life a ransom for many." Matt. 20. 
Paul, addressing the Ephesians, says, " Ye are built upon 
the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ 
himself being the chief corner-stone." Eph. 2 : 20. It will 
be observed that the apostles and prophets are here put 
in the same rank, and are all equally called foundations. 
To Jesus Christ alone belongs the preeminence. 

But the Church of Rome claims to be the supreme mis- 
tress of all churches, and arrogates to the popes a primacy 
of dominion. " I acknowledge the Holy Catholic Apostohc 
Roman Church to be the mother and mistress of all churches ; 
and I promise to swear true obedience to the pope of Rome, 
who is the successor of St. Peter, the prince of the apostles, 
and vicar of Jesus Christ." Creed of Pius IV., Art. 23, 
Catechism. Roman., Part L, de Symb. Art. 9, § 15. 

The Romish church is not the mother and mistress of 
all churches : the mother church was the church at Jerusa- 
lem, which was formed immediately after the ascension of 
Christ; next, was formed the church at Samaria, Acts 8, 
A. D. 34 ; and then, the churches in Cyprus and Phcenice, 
and at Antioch, by those Christians who were dispersed in 
consequence of the persecution that arose about Stephen. 
Acts 11 : 19-21. There is no evidence Avhatever that the 
church at Rome was founded by Peter, as the Romanists 
affirm, or by the joint labors of Peter and Paul. In the 
first council held at N'ice, all other Christian churches were 
on an equality with that at Rome ; and in the fourth gene- 
ral council, that convened at Chalcedon, it was declared, 
that the church at Constantinople should have equal honors 
with that at Rome, because the seat of imperial govern- 
ment was there. Catholic, that is, universal, the Romish 

VOL. VIII 2* 



14 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 

church NEVER TVAS, NOR IS ; for ecclesiastical history attests 
that both the Asiatic and African churches formerly rejected 
her authority ; and also that the Eastern churches to this 
day despise her pride and affectation of supremacy. And 
a simple inspection of the map of the globe will prove, that 
the Romish church is by no means universal. Over the 
united churches of England and Ireland, Rome can have 
no authority ; for the churches of England and of Ireland 
ivere more ancient than the 'pope's supremacy : they were 
free churches from the first planting of Christianity among 
the ancient Britons and Irish ; and whatever oppressions 
those churches suffered from papal intrusions, fraud, and 
violence, their natural freedom remained unaltered, and that 
freedom is justly maintained. The fiction of papal suprem- 
acy is unsupported by Scripture, and is a novelty of the 
seventh century. See Bishop Burgess' Protestant's Cate- 
chism, where all these topics are unanswerably proved. 

IV. OBJECTS AND MANNER OF WORSHIP. 

1. Objects of ivorship). The Scriptures expressly affirm 
that God alone is the proper object of our worship. " Thou 
shalt ivorship) the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou 
serve." Matt. 4 : 10. "It is written," saith Jesus Christ, 
and therefore it must refer to Deut. 6 : 13, "Thou shalt 
fear the Lord thy God, and serve him ;" and again, Deut. 
10: 20, "Him shalt thou serve, and to him shalt thou 
cleave ;" that is. Him only shalt thou serve, and to him 
only shalt thou cleave in the way of divine worship ; for so 
our infallible Instructor interprets it. Matt. 4 : 10 : "Thou 
shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him onlyT In all 
these passages, God, and God alone, is the proper object 
of our devout worship. 

Further, the Scripture says that Jesus Christ is our 
ONLY Mediator and Advocate with God, and the only foun- 
dation of our salvation. " There is one God, and one Me- 
diator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus, who 



ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 15 

gave himself a ransom for all." 1 Tim. 2 : 5, 6. "If any 
man sin, we have an Advocate ivith the Father, Jesus Christ 
the righteous ; and he is the propitiation for our sins, and 
not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world." 
1 John, 2:1,2. '' IS'either is there salvation in any other ; 
for there is none other name under heaven given among 
men, whereby we must be saved." Acts 4:12. *' Other 
foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus 
Christ." 1 Cor. 3:11. 

The Romish church, on the contrary, admits the merits 
and intercession of the Virgin Mary and of the saints. " I 
also beheve that the saints, who reign with Christ, are to 
be worship2>ed and prayed to ; and that their relics are to 
be venerated." Creed of Pius IV., Art. 20. See also 
Cone. Trid. Sess. 25, de Invocat. Catechism. Roman., part 
3, ch. 2. The saints in the Romish church are almost 
numberless : the lives of the saints, published by the Bol- 
landists, fill only ffty -four massive folio volumes, which do 
not come lower than the month of October ; and the little 
hagiography of Mr. Alban Butler extends through twelve 
closely-printed octavo volumes. 

To evade the charge of idolatry, some writers of the Romish 
church have recourse to a superior worship of God, which they 
call Latria, and an inferior worship, by them termed Dulia, and 
which they pay to the saints, to images, and to the cross. But 
there is no foundation for this distinction ; for, not to urge what 
we shall soon proceed to show, that all worship of images and of 
every thing else, God alone excepted, is most expressly forbidden 
in the holy Scriptures : 

" 1. The nature of religious worship ivill not admit of such nice 
distinctions. It is plain, from our Lord's answer to the devil, that 
he did not consider there were different degrees of religious wor- 
ship, or that any but God might be worshipped in any way or 
manner. The devil required from him no more than the papists 
give to saints and images — ' Fall down and worship me ' — and 
our Lord's refusal, saying, that God alone is to be served, must be 
understood to determine, that no degree of religious worship is to 
be given to any creature whatsoever. 



16 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE- 

" 2. The Scriptures mention no such distinction. Nothing is 
there said of an inferior degree of worship fit to be offered to saints 
or angels. An angel refused any kind of worship from St John. 
* I fell down to worship before the feet of the angel which showed 
me these things ; then saith he unto me, See thou do it not, for I 

am thy fellow-servant Worship God.' Rev. 19 : 10, and 

22 : 9. Yet it is evident that the church of Rome commands its 
members to do the very thing that St. John was directed not to do. 
When Cornelius the centurion fell down at St. Peter's feet and 
worshipped him, the apostle forbade him, saying, ' Stand up, I 
also am a man.' 

" 3. The common people neither understand nor observe this dis- 
tinction. This is confessed by one of their own writers. ' The 
manner in which the church invokes the saints cannot be accounted 
idolatry, although the ignorant people have carried the abuse 
almost as far as idolatry, either in considering the saints as the 
authors of the favors they ask, or in placing more confidence in 
their mediation than even in that of Jesus Christ ; or, finally, in 
persuading themselves that, independently of a good life, the 
merits and intercessions of the saints might enable them to obtain 
salvation.' " See the History of the Council of Trent, translated 
into French by Father Le Courayer. Hamilton's Tracts on some 
leading EiTors of the Church of Rome, pp. 33, 34. 

By whatever modified appellation Romanists may designate 
the worship they pay to images, its practical tendency on the 
minds of the lower orders must be collected from the effect it pro- 
duces in those countries where the religion of the church of Rome 
is tlie only one of which they have any notion. In the Christian 
Examiner, for February, 1827, there is an account of tlie corona- 
tion of the image of the Virgin Mary of the Immaculate Concep- 
tion, in the church of Gesu Vecchio, in the city of Naples, so lately 
as the 30th of December, 1826. The account, with its illustrative 
remarks, is too long to admit of insertion in this place. It must, 
therefore, suffice to state, tliat " when the crown was placed on the 
head of the infant Jesus, there was a general movement; but when 
she," the image of the virgin, " was crowned, the lower orders 
could no longer contain themselves ; and the shouts of the men, 
the cries, the outstretched imploring hands, the tears and convul- 
sive shrieks of the women, showed how vehemently and pro- 
foundly they adored the virgin, and Avorshipped her image." 
After the coronation, the archbishop of Naples, and priests, pro- 



ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 17 

nounced certain sentences and responses, in which the unlimited 
power of the virgin over all. nature was unhesitatingly proclaimed 
in phrases almost scriptural. 

4. The doctors of the Romish church are not agreed concerning 
the distinction between Latna, or supreme ivorship, and Dulia^ or 
inferior worship. 

" Many Avriters in that church deny that there is any difference 
between the two words, and admit ' that it is one and the same 
virtue of religion which containeth them both. If some say that 
it is idolatry and mortal sin to give Latria to a saint or image, 
vv^hich ought only to receive Didia, and if others tell you that these 
words signify the same thing, let a man do what he will, he incurs 
the guilt of idolatry, in the opinion either of the one or the other 
of these parties.' 

" If the papists excuse themselves from the charge of idolatry, 
by making a distinction between two different kinds of religious 
worship, which the nature of the thing does not admit of, which 
the Bible nowhere mentions, which the common people cannot 
understand, and concerning which their own doctors have dis- 
puted, the Protestants have a good excuse for not worshipping 
saints or images." Hamilton's Tracts, pp. 34, 35. 

Among these reputed saints, some few there are whose 
praise is, and ever will be, deservedly in the Christian 
church : such, for instance, as were distinguished instru- 
ments of diffusing the knowledge of the Gospel while here 
on earth ; and these, we doubt not, are now shining with a 
glory like the sun in the kingdom of our Father in heaven. 
But others there are, enrolled in the catalogue of saints, who 
never had any existence but that "which is assigned to them 
in the legends of the Romish church, which legends have 
no foundation whatever in authentic history, civil or eccle- 
siastical ; and these accounts are so romantic, that one would 
imagine that no sensible Romanist could ever believe there 
were such persons. Witness the gigantic Saint Christo- 
pher, who is fabled to have carried Christ across an arm of 
the sea ; Saint Amphibolius, who was only the cloak of 
Alban, the reputed protomartyr of England ; Saint Lon- 
ginus, the Roman soldier who thrust the spear into Christ's 



18 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 

body upon the cross ; Saint George ; Saint Ursula, with 
her eleven thousand virgin martyrs, of whom no traces are 
to be found in history. Others again, who are exalted to 
the character of saints ' by the Romish church, one would 
think, could be thus promoted for nothing but their folly. 
The great Saint Francis, according to their own accounts, 
may justly be suspected of wanting common sense, as well 
as common decency. His throwing away his clothes, and 
runninof about stark naked, was such a freak that he ouo-ht 
either to have been publicly chastised for his impudence, or 
confined for lunacy ; and his preaching to birds and beasts, 
and talking to them as fellow- creatures, was an act equally 
stupid and ridiculous. Preservative against Popery, vol. 2, 
tit. 6, p. 322. 

Others, however, of these reputed saints were noto- 
rious SINNERS, who have left only such remembrances of 
them as must raise the just indignation of every pious and 
virtuous mind. Such, to specify a few only of the most 
notorious, were Saint Gregory YII., better known by the 
name of Hildebrand, whose whole life was one unceasing 
and unprincipled effort to realize the universal dominion of 
the world, which he claimed as an appendage to the see of 
Rome, and against whose canonization every government in 
communion with Rome exclaimed, so that he is worshipped 
only in Ireland and in Italy. Dr. Philpott's Supplemental 
Letter to Mr. Butler, pp. 145, 147. Saint Thomas a Becket, 
a rebel to his king, and a traitor to his country, Avho, having 
solemnly promised to obey the laws of England, deliber- 
ately \dolated his promise and his allegiance, Henry's Hist, 
of Engl., vol. 5, p. 344 ; for which saintly virtues he was 
canonized, and became in a manner the idol of this part of 
the world for nearly two hundred years, so that in one year, 
A. D. 1420, not fewer than fifty thousand foreigners came in 
pilgrimage to visit the tomb of this j^e^ji^ ret? man, "■ for whose 
martyrdom," the Roman Missal for the use of the Laity, p. 
85, London edit., 1815, says, ''the angels rejoice." 



ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 19 

"About fifty years after Becket's death, it was the subject of 
a public dispute at the university of Paris, whether Becket was 
in heaven or hell, so ambiguous a point Avas his sanctity. Some 
asserted that, for his extreme pride, he deserved to be damned : 
others, on the contrary, maintained that the miracles wrought at 
his tomb were undoubted proofs of his salvation. This last argu- 
ment indeed would have been unanswerable, if these miracles 
were as evidently proved as industriously spread. 

" He had deserved too well in the court of Rome not to have 
a place in the catalogue of the saints He was there- 
fore canonized two or three years after his death. However de- 
sirous the pope was to show his gratitude to the memory of so 
faithful a servant, the world must first be convinced that the cause 
he died in was approved by God; otherwise his canonization 
might have been objected against. Nothing was more proper to 
infuse this belief into the minds of the people than miracles ; ac- 
cordingly, such multitudes were forthwith wrought at the tomb of 
the new martyr, tliat, in any other age, the number of these mira- 
cles, instead of satisfying the world, would have had a quite con- 
trary effect. Neither Christ nor his apostles worked the like, or 
so many, to prove the truth of Christianity, as this nev/ saint did 
to authorize the privileges and immunities of the clergy. It was 
not thought sufficient to assert his restoring dead men to life, but 
it was farther affirmed he raised the very beasts. It was given 
out for certain, that being exposed to vieAv in the church before 
he was buried, he rose out of his coffin, and went and lighted the 
wax-candles which had been put out. It is said, also, after the 
funeral ceremony was over, he held up his hand to bless tlie people. 
To all these miracles, many others are added, equally unbecoming 
the majesty of God. Meanwhile they were spread with that con- 
fidence, that not a man was found hardy enough to show the least 
sign of doubt. The pope's legates, sent some time after to exam- 
ine these matters, found the people at Canterbury so persuaded 
of the truth of all these facts, that, upon such public evidence, his 
holiness thought he should run no great hazard in canonizing 
Becket, by the name of St. Thomas of Canterbury. The tomb of 
the new saint was first adorned with few ornaments ; but, fifty 
years after his death, his body was laid in a shrine, enriched with 
a prodigious quantity of precious stones. As a farther honor to 
his memory, the pope ordered every fiftieth year a jubilee to be 
solemnized in the church where he lay. From thenceforward, 



20 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 

miracles became so common at his tomb, and their fame spread so 
far, that they drew votaries from all parts of Christendom, who 
came to Canterbury to obtain tlie intercession of this new saint. 
In 1420, they kept an account of above fifty thousand foreigners, 
of all ages and sexes, that came in pilgrimage that year to this 
renowned tomb." Rapin's Hist of Eng., vol. 1, pp. 232, 233, folio 
edition. 

Saint Plus V., who, besides burning more heretics 
(Christians) than almost any of his predecessors, not only 
issued a bull of excommunication against Queen Elizabeth, 
depriving her of her crown, but also excited her Romanist 
subjects to rebellion, and supplied some of them with 
money to carry on their traitorous designs. 

'' The invocation of saints and of the Virgin Mary is 
contrary to the practice of antiquity : it was first introduced 
by Petrus Gnapheus, a presbyter of Bithynia, afterwards 
bishop of Antioch, about A. D. 470, and it was first 
received into the public litanies about one hundred and fifty 
years after." In the sixth century only were temples first 
erected in honor of the saints ; and it was not until the 
latter end of the ninth century that the Roman pontiffs 
impiously arrogated to themselves the power of raising dead 
sinful mortals to the dignity of saints, and constituted them 
objects of worship, whose prayers and merits procure heav- 
enly blessings, and by whose hands they are conveyed. 

" The invocation of saints is contrary to reason ; for how 
can they hear prayers ? God alone is the object of all the 
worship and veneration which are due to an invisible being." 
It is equally contrary to Scripture ; for " the dead Icnow 
not any thing," that is, as the context shows, they know 
not any thing of the affairs of this Avorld. " Their love, and 
their envy, and their hatred, is perished : neither have they 
any more a portion for ever in any thing that is done under 
the sun." Eccl. 9 : 5, 6. Townsend's Accusations of His- 
tory against the Church of Rome, p. 103. 

Image-ioorship is absolutely and universally prohibited 
in Scripture. '' Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven 



ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 21 

image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, 
or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under 
the earth. Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor 
serve them." Exod. 20 : 4, 5 ; Deut. 4 : 15, 16; Acts 
IV : 29; 1 John, 5 : 21. 

But the Romish church declares that " it is laivful to 
represent God and the Holy Trinity by images ; and that 
the images and relics of Christ and the saints are to he duly 
honored, venerated, or luorshipped ; and that in this venera- 
tion and worship, those are venerated which are represented 
by them." Cone. Trid. Sess. 25, de Invocat. Catech., Part 
3, ch. 2. Pius lYth's creed runs thus: "I most firmly 
assert that the images of Christ and of the mother of God, 
who was always a virgin, are to be had and retained ; and 
that due honor and worship is to be given to them." The 
worship thus enjoined consists in kissing images, uncovering 
the head of them, offering incense, bowing, and making 
prayers to them. The adoration of the host and of the 
cross are two notorious instances of idolatrous worship. 

2. Manner of worship. Under the Jewish dispensation 
Jerusalem was the place, and the temple was the house, in 
which were the symbols of the Divine presence, and thither 
all Jews were bound to resort three times in the year to 
offer their prayers and sacrifices to God : but the Gospel 
teaches us that there is now no such symbolical presence of 
the Almighty in one place more than in another ; for the 
Divine presence is no longer confined to any one place, but 
he equally accepts the worship Avhich is devoutly offered to 
him throughout the world. " The hour cometh," said Jesus 
Christ to the woman of Samaria, " when ye shall neither in 

this place, nor yet at Jerusalem, Avorship the Father 

The hour cometh, and now is, when the true Avorshippers 
shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth : for the 
Father seeketh such to Avorship him." John 4 : 21, 23. 
On another occasion he said, " Where tAvo or three are gath- 
ered too-ether in mA^ name, there am I in the midst of them." 

VOL. A''TTT. 3 



22 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 

Matt. 18 : 20. *' I will therefore," says Paul, 1 Tim. 2 : 8, 
"that men pray everywhere, without wrath and doubting " 
of God's acceptance of our supphcations. 

But in the church of Rome it is reputed a great act of 
devotion to go in pilgrimages, to visit the shrines of partic- 
ular saints and relics. Cardinal Bellarmine, quoting the 
decree of the Council of Trent, Sess. 25, expressly affirms, 
that it is a work of piety to go on pilgrimages to holy places. 
De Cult. Sacr. lib. 3, c. 8. Among the inducements held 
out in the bull for the jubilee in 1825, to persuade persons 
to go to Rome, was that of beholding the cradle of Christ ! 
" Can any man of reflection," it has been truly asked, 
'' admit that the pope himself believes that the cradle of 
Christ is to be seen at Rome ? and if not, what is the 
pope?" 

2. The Scriptures teach us that divine service ought 
to be performed in a language that is intelligible to the 
people. 

" He that speaketh in an unknown tongue, speaketh not 
imto men, but unto God : for no man understandeth him. 
If I come unto you," says St. Paul, " speaking with tongues, 
what shall I profit you, except I shall speak to you either 
by revelation, or by knowledge, or by prophesying, or by 
doctrine ? For if I pray in an unknown tongue, my spirit 
prayeth, but my understanding is unfruitful. Else, when 
thou shalt bless with the spirit, how shall he that occupieth 
the room of the unlearned say Amen at thy giving of thanks, 

seeing he understandeth not what thou sayest ? In 

the church I had rather speak five words with my under- 
standing, that by my voice I might teach others also, than 
ten thousand words in an unknown tongue." I Cor. 14 : 2, 
6, 14, 16, 19. 

But in the Romish church mass is celebrated, and many 
other acts of religious worship are performed in Latin, a 
language which is unintelligible to the people, and with 
numberless ceremonies, some of heathen orio-in, for wliich 



ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. *2d 

there is no foundation whatever in Scripture ; and the Coun- 
cil of Trent, acting as it repeatedly affirmed, under the 
guidance of the Holy Spirit, denounces an anathema against 
any one who presumes to say any thing to the contrary. 
Cone. Trid. Sess. 22, de Sacrificio Missee, cap. 8. 

V. THE COMPLETE ATONEMENT OF CHRIST CONTRADICTED BY 
THE CHURCH OF ROME. 

The ScrijHure teaches that, by his one oblation of him- 
self upon the cross, Jesus Christ has made a full, perfect, 
and sufficient atonement ; and that, since he hath expiated 
our sins by his blood, there is no need of any other sacrifice. 
*' If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, 
Jesus Christ the righteous : and he is the 2^ropitlation for om' 
sins ; and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the 
whole world." 1 John, 3 : 1, 2. " Christ hath redeertied 
us from the curse of the law." Gal. 3 : 13. " Christ being 
come a High-Priest of good things to come . . .he entered 
in once into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemp- 
tion for us." Heb. 9:12. '' Once in the end of the world 
hath he appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of him- 
self." Heb. 9 : 26. "By one offering he hath perfected 
for ever them that are sanctified." Heb. 10 : 14. 

But the Bomish church daily renews the sacrifice of 
Jesus Christ in the celebration of the mass; and teaches 
" that in the mass is offered to God a true, proper, and pro- 
pitiatory sacrifice for the quick," or living, *'and dead," 
Creed of Pius IV., Art. 17. " If any one say, that in the 
mass there is not a true and proper sacrifice offered unto 
God ; or, that to be offered is nothing else but for Christ to 
be given to us to eat, let him be anathema." Cone. Trid. 
Sess. 22, de Sacrificio Missoe, Can. 1. This sacrifice of the 
mass, as it is called, not only contradicts the two passages 
above cited, but is also destructive of all the arguments 
contained in the seventh, eighth, and ninth chapters of the 
Epistle to the Hebrews. 



24 ROMAXISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 

VL OF JUSTIFICATION AND THE PARDON OF SIN. 

1. The Scripture declares that "there is no man that 
sinneth not," 1 Kings, 8:46; that " the whole world heth in 
wickedness," 1 John, 5 : 19 ; that "the Lord looked down 
from heaven upon the children of men, to see if there were 
any that did understand and seek after God. They are all 
gone aside, they are all together become filthy ; there is none 
that doeth good, no, not one. All have sinned, and come 
short of the glory of God." Psalm 14:2, 3 ; Rom. 3 : 10- 
18, 23. "All we, like sheep, have gone astray." Isaiah 
53 : 6. But the Council of Trent declares "that it is not 
their intention to comprehend the blessed and unspotted 
Virgin Mary, the mother of God, in this decree, where it 
treats of original sin." Cone. Trid. Sess. 5. 

2. The Scriiytiire asserts that we are justified, or ac- 
counted righteous before God, only for the merit of our 
Lord Jesus. Christ, through faith, and not meritoriously by 
our own works. 

" The righteousness of God is hj faith of Jesus Christ 
unto all, and upon all them that believe ; for there is no 
difierence : for all have sinned, and come short of the glory 
of God ; being justified freely by his grace, through the 
redemption that is in Christ Jesus. Where is boasting then ? 
It is excluded. By what law ? Of works ? Nay ; but by 
the law of faith. Therefore we conclude, that a man is jus- 
tified by faith without the deeds of the law." Rom. 3:22- 
24, 27, 28. "By grace are ye saved, through /ae77i ; and 
that not of yourselves : it is the gift of God : not of works, 
lest any man should boast." Eph. 2 : 8, 9. Consequently, 
there can be no such thing as merit in any thing that we 
can say or do. "When," says our Saviour, "ye shall have 
done all those things which are commanded you, say. We 
are unprofitable servants." Luke 17 : 10. 

But the Council of Trent teaches, that the good w^orks 
of justified persons are truly and properly meritorious, and 



ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 25 

fully worthy of eternal life, by denouncing an anathema 
against all who hold a contrary doctrine ! Cone. Trid. Sess. 
6, cap. 16, can. 32. 

Vn. OF THE SACRAMENTS. 

1. dumber of the sacraments. Jesus Christ instituted 
only two sacraments : namely, Baptism, " Go ye, and teach 
all nations, haptizing them," etc.. Matt. 28 : 19 ; and the 
Lord's Supper. See Luke 26 : 19, 20, and the parallel 
passages. 

But the Romish church teaches, that " there are truly 
and properly seven sacraments of the new law instituted by 
our Lord Jesus Christ, and are necessary to the salvation 
of mankind," although all the sacraments are not necessary 
to every person, " namely. Baptism, Confirmation, the Lord's 
Supper, Penance, Extreme Unction, Orders, and Matrimo- 
ny," Creed of Pius IV., Art. 15 ; and the Council of Trent 
denounces a curse against any who say that these " were 
not all instituted by Christ, or that there are more or fewer 
than seven, or that" any of the seven is not truly and prop- 
erly a sacrament. Sess. 1, can. 1. Peter Lombard, a 
writer of the twelfth century, was the first who reckons 
seven sacraments, adding to Baptism and the Lord's Sup- 
per these five, namely, Confiimation, Penance, Orders, Mat- 
rimony, and the Extreme Unction. Pope Eugenius lY., 
about the middle of the fifteenth century, pronounced that 
these five, as well as the other two, ought to be considered 
as sacraments ; and in the following century the Council of 
Trent and Pope Pius IV. declared them to be equally sac- 
raments. Consequently, not one of these five were or could 
have been constituted sacraments by Jesus Christ ; though 
the Council of Trent has been pleased to assert the contrary. 

2. Of communion in both kinds. The Scripture teaches 
us, that Jesus Christ instituted the communion in both 
kinds, that is, bread and wine, and so commanded that it 
should be celebrated. " Jesus took bread, and blessed it, 

VOL. VIII. 3* 



26 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 

and gave it to the disciples, and said, ' Take, eat ; this is' — 
represents, according to the oriental idiom — 'my body.' 
And he took the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it them, 
saying, * Drink ye all of it ; for this is,' represents, ' my blood 
of the new testament.' " Matt. 26 : 26-28. 

But the church of Rome has changed what Christ ap- 
pointed, and has deprived the laity of the cup; and has 
anathematized any who say, " that from the command of 
God, and the necessity of salvation, all and every believer 
in Christ ought to receive both kinds of the most holy 
sacrament of the eucharist." Cone. Trid. Sess. 21, can. 
1. ''I do also confess, that under either kind or species 
only, whole and entire, Christ and the true sacrament is 
received." Creed of Pius IV., Art. 18. The Council of 
Constance, held in the year 1416, was the first that sac- 
rilegiously deprived the laity of the cup in the sacrament, 
in direct contradiction to Christ's command, and the prac- 
tice of the primitive church. The testimonies of the fathers 
and ecclesiastical writers, for thirteen or fourteen hundred 
years, are collected by Bishop Beveridge on the Articles. 
Art. 30. 

The Scripture teaches us that the consecrated bread 
and wine are the communion of the body and blood of 
Christ. " The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not the 
communion of the blood of Christ ? The bread which we 
break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ ?" 
1 Cor. 10 : 16. 

But the Romish church affirms, that " in the most holy 
sacrament of the eucharist there is really and substantially 
the body and blood, together with the soul and divinity of 
our Lord Jesus Christ ; and that there is a conversion of 
the whole substance of the bread into his body, and of the 
whole substance of the wine into his blood, which conver- 
sion the" Roman ''Catholic church calls transubstantia- 
tionr Creed of Pius IV., Art. 17. 

This term was not invented until the thirteenth century : 



ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 27 

the first idea of Christ's bodily presence in the eiicharist 
was started in the beginning- of the eighth century ; the first 
writer who maintained the doctrine was Paschasius Rad- 
bertus, in the ninth century, before it was firmly establish- 
ed ; and the first public assertion of it was at the third 
Lateran Council, in the year 1215, after it had been for 
some time avowed by the popes, and in obedience to their 
injunctions inculcated by the clergy. But the term tran- 
substantiation was not known until the thirteenth century, 
when it was invented by Stephen, Bishop of Autun. *' This 
doctrine of transubstantiation subverts the very foundation 
on which the credibility of the Christian religion is built, 
viz., our Saviour's miracles ; and not only does it contradict 
the Scripture, which says that we eat bread after the con- 
secration of it, 1 Cor. 11 : 27, but it is also contrary to 
reason, which teaches that the same body cannot be in two 
places at the same time ; and it is contrary to the report 
which our senses make about their proper objects. So that 
transubstantiation contams many gross falsehoods, and is 
incredible to all who consult the word of God, their own 
reason, and common sense." On this subject, consult 
Archbishop Tillotson's discourse against Transubstantiation. 

Vm. OF MARRIAGE. 

" Marriage," the Scripture declares, " is honorable in all, 
and the bed undefiled." Heb. 13 : 4. ''To avoid fornica- 
tion, let every man have his own wife, and every woman 
her own husband." 1 Cor. 7 : 2. These precepts are 
spoken universally ; and no exception is made of the clergy, 
or ministers of the Gospel : nor can any one show that God 
hath excepted priests or monks. See also 1 Tim. 3 : 2, 4, 
5, 12 ; Tit. 1:6. In the prediction of the great apostasy 
from the pure faith of the Gospel, St. Paul enumerates the 
''forbidding to marry" as one of the criteria of which the 
Holy " Spirit speaketh expressly." 1 Tim. 4:1,3. 

In opposition to the divine commands, the Council of 



28 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 

Trent decrees that the " clergy may not marry T Sess. 24, 
can. 9. "Siricius, who died A. D. 399, was the first pope 
who forbade the marriage of the clergy ; but it is probable 
that this prohibition was but little regarded, as the celibacy 
of the clergy seems not to have been completely establish- 
ed till the papacy of Gregory YII., at the end of the elev- 
enth century ; and even then it was complained of by many 
writers." Bishop Tomline's Elem. of Christ. Theol., vol. 
2, p. 520. 

The sinrii of popery remains the same. The Romish 
clergy are, to this day, forbidden to marry ; and the evils 
resulting from this prohibition have been often and ably set 
forth. 

IX. OF PURGATORY AND INDULGENCES. 

1. The Scripture declares that "it 'is appointed unto 
men once to die, but after this the judgment," Heb. 9:27: 
and in 1 Sam. 25 : 29; Matt. 7 : 13, 14; 8 : 11, 12, and 
Luke 16 : 22, 23, mention is made only of a two-fold re- 
ceptacle of souls after death. The penitent thief was to be 
that day in 'paradise, Yivk^ 23 : 43 ; *' and it is the uni- 
form declaration of the Scriptures, that all sins are forgiven 
upon our own repentance, through faith and trust in the 
atonement." 

In direct contradiction to the Bible, the Council of Trent 
affirms, that 'Hhere is a purgatory, or place of torment 
after this life, for the expiation of the sins of good men 
which are not sufficiently purged here ; and that the souls 
there detained are helped by the masses, prayers, alms, and 
other good works of the living." Cone. Trid. Sess. 6, Can. 
30 ; Sess. 25, Decret. de Purgat. The practice of praying 
for the dead began in the third century ; but purgatory was 
not even mentioned until long after. It w^as at first doubt- 
fully received, and was not fully established until the papa- 
cy of Gregory, in the beginning of the seventh century. 

2. The holy Scriptures declare, that it is the preroga- 



ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 29 

live of tlie infinite and almighty God alone to forgive sins, 
Psalm 130 : 4 ; Isa. 43 : 25 ; 44 : 22 ; Jer. 50 : 20 ; Mark 
2:7; Luke 5:21; Eph. 4:32; and that " when we have 
done all those things which are commanded us, we are 
unprofitable servants." Luke 17 : 10. 

But the pope of Rome, a finite and sinful creature, 
claims the power of pardoning sins, and of granting indul- 
gences, which are defined to be a remission of the temporal 
punishment due to sin by the decree of God. when its guilt 
and eternal punishment are remitted, and which may con- 
sist either of evil in this life, or of temporal suffering in the 
next — which temporal suffermg is called purgatory. It is 
made an article of faith in the creed of Pius IV., " that the 
power of indulgences tvas left hy Christ to his church ; and 
that the use of them is very helpful to Christian p>eopley 
Art. 22. 

The Romish doctrine of indulgences is built upon the 
false foundation of purgatory, and the supererogations of 
the saints ; that is, their satisfying over and above what is 
needful for themselves and their own sins ; so that their 
satisfactions may serve for others who want them, or wiio 
have not enough of their own. That this doctrine has no 
foundation in the Bible, and consequently was not instituted 
by Jesus Christ, is acknowledged by some of the most 
learned Romanists themselves. See Bishop Taylor's Dis- 
suasive from Popery, part 1, ch. 1. sect. 3. It is a fact, 
well attested in ecclesiastical history, that the power of 
granting indulgences was not claimed by the popes before 
the twelfth century, consequently it never was or could 
have been left by Christ to his church. It is also well 
known, that the profligate sale of indulgences by Leo X. led 
to the glorious Reformation, of which, under God, Luther 
was a distinguished instrument. Not to repeat earlier tes- 
timonies, it will be seen by the following extract from the 
bull of Leo XII., for the Jubilee of 1825, dated Rome, 
May 24, 1824, that the popes still usurp the prerogative 



30 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 

of Almighty God, in granting remission of sins. ''During 
this year of Jubilee, we mercifully in the Lord grant and 
impart the most 'plenary and complete indulgence, remission, 
and pardon of all their sins, to all the faithful in Christ, of 
both sexes, who are truly penitent and have confessed, and 
who have refreshed themselves with the holy communion ; 
provided, if Romans or inhabitants of the city, they shall 
have devoutly visited these churches of the city, that of 
the blessed Peter and Paul, of St. John Lateran, and of St. 
Mary Maggiore," or the greater, "at least once a day for 
thirty days, whether successive or interrupted, natural or 
even ecclesiastical ; but if foreigners, or in any other respect 
strangers, they must have devoutly visited these churches 
at least fifteen days : provided also, that they shall have 
poured forth pious prayers to God for the exaltation of the 
holy church, the extirpation of heresies, the concord of 
catholic princes, and the salvation and tranquillity of Chris- 
tendom." 

It is curious to see how the clause for the extirpation of 
heresies appears in the " Directions and Instructions, ad- 
dressed to all the faithful in the London district, published 
by the R. R., the vicars apostolic." In the fourth condition 
required for gaining the Jubilee, p. 22, is the visiting of 
certain churches and offering up prayers " for the exaltation 
of the holy Catholic church throughout the world ; for 
hringing hack all straying souls to the ways of unity and 
truth ; for the peace and concord of Christian princes ; and 
for the general welfare of all Christian people, both for time 
and eternity." Query. Did his holiness, "the sovereign 
pontiff," in his bull, dated Dec. 25, 1825, for extending the 
jubilee, soften the original language above cited, in order to 
accommodate himself to the genius of Englishmen? Or 
w^as the clause for the extirp)ation of heresies differently 
translated, lest it should offend better educated members of 
the Romish church in the London district ? 

That indulgences have been sold since the +ime of Leo 



ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 31 

X. for the commission of the most profligate crimes, has 
been proved by the unimpeachable testimony of Romish 
writers ; and that they have been sold, and the proceeds 
thereof apphed in aid of rebellion against the lawful sove- 
reign of Great Britain and Ireland, the follomng anecdote 
from the history of the sister island will sufficiently attest. 
From the evidence communicated before a committee of the 
Irish parliament by father John Hennesy, it appears that 
his holiness, Pope Benedict XIII., in compliance with the 
request of the Romish archbishops and bishops of Ireland, 
who had conspired with others of the Romish communion 
to exterminate King George II. and the royal family, and 
to place the Pretender on the throne, issued his bull to fa- 
cilitate their ^:>/o?^5 intention, and sent them an indulgence 
for ten years, in order to raise a sum of money to be speed- 
ily applied to restore James III. to his right. This bull 
further enjoined "that ever}^ communicant confessing and 
receiving upon the patron days of every respective parish, 
and any Sunday, from the first of May to September, hav- 
ing repeated the Lord's prayer five times, and once the 
apostle's creed, upon paying two-iKnce each time, was to 
have a lylenary indulgence for all their sins^ Under this 
holy bull it appears that the sum of fifteen hundred pounds 
sterling was ready to be remitted to the Pretender's agent 
in Flanders at the time the treasonable conspiracy was de- 
tected by the vigilance of the Irish government. 

The testimonies of Romanist wi-iters to the sale of indulgences 
may be seen in the Rev. Dr. Philpott's Letters to Mr. Butler, pp. 
151-153; or in Dr. Hales' Analysis of Chronology, vol. 2, part 
2, p. 1019-1022 ; and especially in " Taxatio Papalis ; being an 
Account of the Tax-Books of tlie United Church and Court of 
Modern Rome." London, 1825, 8vo. That the scandalous traffic 
in indulgences has been carried on in later times, Avill be evident 
from the following facts. 

" In the year 1709, a Bristol privateer captured a vessel from 
Spain, on her passage to America, which had on board upwards 
of three millions of these bulls of indulgence, which were to be 



32 ROMA.MSM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 

sold to tlie people in America, at various prices, from 20 pence 
for the poor, so high as £11 for the rich; and Captain Dampier 
told Bishop Burnet that they Avere so numerous that his sailors 
used them in careening the ship. 

" In the year 1800, a Spanish ship from Europe was captured 
near the coast of South America by Admiral Har\'ey, then captain 
of the Southampton frigate. There were on board large bales of 
paper, valued in her books at £7,500. It was a matter of surprise 
to him to see them rated so high, and to hear the master of the 
captured vessel speak of them with great admiration : he exam- 
ined them, and found tliem all filled with large sheets of paper, 
printed, some in Spanish, and some in Latin, but all sealed with 
the seals of the ecclesiastical courts in Spain or at Rome. These 
were indulgences or pardons for various sins mentioned in the 
Catholic rubric, and the price, which varied from half a dollar to 
seven dollars, was marked upon each. They had been bought in 
Spain, and ivere intended for sale in South America. At Tortola, 
some Dutch merchants bought the whole for £*200, with the hope 
of being able to smuggle tliem among the Spaniards in America." 
Hamilton's Tracts, p. 68. 

X. OF AURICULAR CONFESSION. 

Auricular confession to a priest in private, required by 
the Council of Trent, and the catechism of the Romish 
church, is very different from the open, general, and public 
confession, which all Christians receive and practice. It is 
contrary to Scripture. James 5:16, upon which passage 
the custom has been principally enforced, refers only to 
confession in the miraculous cases of sickness, which were 
inflicted as temporal punishments in the days of the apos- 
tles. It is contrary to reason, that confession to a man 
should be demanded as the condition of the forgiveness of sin. 
Though, in some instances, the conscience may be relieved 
by confessing great crimes, and the penitent is commanded 
to confess his faults to those against whom he has offended, 
he is not commanded to confess to the priest, as an indispen- 
sable condition of the forgiveness of God. How contrary 
this antiscriptural tenet is to morality, and how it has been 
made subservient to plotting, propagating, and carrying on 



ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 33 

treasonable propositions and designs, may be seen at length 
in Bishop Taylor's Dissuasive from Popery, part 2., book 
1., sec. 11. 

XI. DEPOSING POWER OF THE POPE. 

The concluding article of Pius IVth's creed runs thus : 
" I also, without doubt, receive and profess all other things 
delivered, defined, and declared by the sacred canons and 
general councils, and especially by the holy Council of Trent; 
and all things contrary to them, with all heresies rejected 
and cursed by the chiu-ch, I likewise reject, condemn, and 
curse." 

Among these "sacred canons," to omit those of the 
Popes Boniface VIII. and Innocent III., cited at length by 
the Rev. Dr. Philpott, in his Letters to Mr. Butler, pp. 
278-281, the following of the third and fourth Lateran 
councils are particularly worthy of notice. 

The third Lateran council, which levelled its decree 
against those who were variously denominated Cathari, 
Patarenes, or publicans, in Gascony, the vicinity of Thou- 
louse, and other regions, subjects to a curse both themselves, 
their defenders, and harborers ; and also, under a curse, 
prohibits all persons from admitting them into their houses, 
or receiving them upon their lands, or cherishing them, or 
exercising any trade with them. It further confiscates their 
goods, and freely permits princes to reduce them to slavery ; 
and relaxes two years of enjoined penance to those faithful 
Christians, who, by the counsel of their bishops, shall take 
up arms against them, to subdue them by fighting against 
them. Labbei Concilia, tom. 10, p. 1522. The sixteenth 
decree of the same council prescribes that '' oaths ivhich 
contravene the utilitij of the church, and the constitutions of 
the holy fathers, are not to he called oaths, hut rather f:erj\j- 

RIES." 

The fourth Lateran council is even more precise in its 
denunciations. " Let secular powers, whatever ofiice they 

VOL. VIII. ^ 



34 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 

execute, be admonished, persuaded, and, if necessary, com- 
pelled BY ECCLESIASTICAL CENSURE, that, as they desire to 
be reputed and accounted faithful, so they would publicly 
take an oath for the defence of the faith," that is, the dog- 
mas of the Romish church, " that they would endeavor in 
good faith, according to their power, to destroy all heretics 
marl-ed hy the church, out of the lands of their jurisdiction. 
But if the temporal prince, being admonished and required, 
shall neglect to purge his land from this heretical filthiness, 
HE SHALL BE excommimicatcd by the bishops of the p)rovince : 
and, if he shall refuse to give satisfaction within a year, let 
it be signified to the pope, that he may forthwith denounce 
his vassals absolved from their allegiance, and expose his 
land to be possessed by Catholics, who, having destroyed the 
heretics, may possess it without contradiction, and preserve it 
in the purity of the faith, saving the right of the principal 
lord, whilst that he doth make no hinderance to it. Never- 
theless, the same law is to be observed towards them who 
have no principal lord." Labbei Concilia, tom. 11, part 1, 
p. 148, can. 3, de Heereticis. 

It is, undeniably, the doctrine of the Romish church, 
that a general council, Avhen convened and approved of by 
the pope, is empowered to pass laws binding for ever on its 
members ; and since these laws, as they maintain, emanate 
from infalhble authority, they are deemed equally binding 
with the divinely-inspired Scriptures. Now, the decrees of 
these two councils bear the impress of this authoritative 
sanction : they were confirmed by the then reigning pontiffs, 
and ratified by the Council of Trent ; they have never been 
abrogated, and by the above-cited article of Pius IV. this 
creed was made an article of implicit belief. The pages of 
history sufficiently record the manner in which the deposi- 
tions of sovereign princes, and the extermination of heretics, 
have been conducted by the " holy Catholic" pseudo " apos- 
tolic Roman church." To state the principal instances as 
briefly as possible : 



ROMANISiM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 35 

Saint Gregory VII. twice anathematized and deposed 
the emperor Henry IV. In 1116 the emperor Henry V. 
was deposed by Paschal II. ; John, king of England, by 
Innocent III. in 1210, and Raymond, count of Thoulouse, 
by the same pontiff, in 1215 ; the emperor Frederick II. by 
Innocent IV. in 1245; Peter, king of Arragon, by Martin 
IV. in 1283 ; Matthew, duke of Milan, in 1322, and Lewis 
of Bavaria, in 1324, by John XXII. ; Barnabas, duke of 
Milan, by Urban V. in 1363 ; Alphonzo, king of Arragon, 
in 1425, by Martin V. ; the king of Navarre, by Julius II. 
in 1512; Henry VIII. king of England, by Paul III. in 
1538 ; Henry III. of France, in 1583, by Sixtus V., who, 
on hearing of this monarch's assassination by friar Jacques 
Clement, declared that the murderer's fervent zeal towards 
God surpassed that of Judith and Eleazar, and that the as- 
sassination was effected by Providence ! In 1591, Gregory 
XIV., and in the following year the uncanonically elected 
pope Clement VII., issued bulls of deposition against Hen- 
ry IV. king of France, whose life was first attempted by 
John Chastel, a Jesuit, then by a monk, and finally he was 
stabbed by Ravaillac. In 1569 Saint Pius V. deposed 
Queen Elizabeth, whose Romanist subjects he stimulated to 
rebel against her, and furnished some of them with money 
to aid their nefarious attempts : and bulls of deposition were 
fulminated against that illustrious queen, by Gregory XIII. 
in 1580, Sixtus V. in 1587, and Clement VIII. in 1600. 
Sixtus v., in his bull, styled her an usurper, a heretic, and 
an excommunicate ; gave her throne to Philip II. of Spain, 
and commanded the Enghsh to join the Spaniards in de- 
throning her. Clement VIII,, in 1600, issued a bull to 
prevent James I. ascending the throne of England, declar- 
ing that " when it should happen that that miserable wo- 
man," Queen Elizabeth, " should die, they," her subjects, 
" should admit none to the crown, though ever so nearly 
allied to it by blood, except they would not only tolerate 
the " Roman " Catholic religion, but promote it to the ut- 



36 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 

most of tlieir power ; and would, according to ancient cus- 
tom, undertake upon oath to perform the same." In 1643, 
Urban VIII. issued a bull of deposition against Charles I. 
in Ireland ; where, two years before, not fewer than 100,000 
Protestants were massacred ; and to those who had joined 
the rebellion of 1641, the same holy pontiff granted 2i plen- 
ary indulgence. In 1*729, Benedict XIII., at the instance of 
the Romanist Irish prelates, issued a bull to dethrone George 
II. king of England, with an indulgence, as we have above 
seen, for raising money to support the Pretender. In 1768, 
Clement XIII. published a brief, on occasion of certain 
edicts issued by the duke of Parma and Placentia, in his 
own dominions ; wherein the pontiff, in the plenitude of his 
usurped authority, abrogated, repealed, and annulled, as 
being prejudicial to the liberty, immunity, and jurisdiction 
of the church, whatever the duke had ordered in his edicts, 
?indi forbade his subjects to obey their sovereign; further de- 
priving all, who had either published or.obeyed the edicts, 
of all their privileges, and incapacitating them from receiv- 
ing absolution, until they should fully and entirely have 
restored matters to their former condition, or should have 
made suitable satisfaction to the church, and to the holy 
see. In 1800, the late pope Pius VII. announced his elec- 
tion to the pontificate to Louis XVIII. as the lawful king 
of France ; and in the following year he exhibited a most 
edifying instance of ^;«^ja? diqylicity, when it suited his 
interest, by entering into a concordat with Bonaparte, in 
wiiich, besides suppressing 146 episcopal and metropolitan 
sees, and dismissing their bishops and metropolitans without 
any form of judicature, he absolved all Frenchmen from 
their oaths of allegiance to their legitimate sovereign, and 
authorized an oath of allegiance to the first consul; and 
when Louis XVIII. sent his ambassador to Rome to present 
his credentials, the pontiff refused to receive him. With 
marvellous infallibility, however, not quite eight years after, 
the same pontiff issued a bull, in June 1809, excommunicat- 



ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 37 

ing Bonaparte and all who adhered to him in his invasion 
of the papal states ; in which bull he makes the same ex- 
travagant pretensions to supreme power which had been 
put forth by Saint Gregory VII., Innocent III., and other 
pontiffs. 

One more instance may suffice to show the continuance 
not only of the papal pretensions to interfere with the tem- 
poral interests of mankind, but also of the readiness with 
which those pretensions are asserted whenever an opportu- 
nity presents itself. The secularization of certain German 
churches and chapters, in 1803, by the diet of Augsburg, 
which distributed some of them as indemnities to secular 
Protestant princes, gave occasion to many despatches from 
Rome, in the years 1803, 1804, and 1805, and particularly 
to an instruction to the papal nuncio resident at Vienna, in 
1805, in which Pius VII. says, that the church had not 
only taken care to prohibit heretics from confiscating eccle- 
siastical possessions, but that she had moreover established, 
as the 'penalty of the crime of heresy, the confiscation and the 
loss of all proper tij possessed by heretics. This penalty, as 
far as concerns the property of private individuals, is de- 
creed, he says, by a bull of Innocent III., cap. Vergentes 
X. de Haereticis ; and, as far as concerns sovereignties and 
fiefs, it is a rule of the canon law, cap. Absolutus XVI. de 
Haereticis, that the subjects of a prince, manifestly heretical, 
are released from all obligation to him, dispensed from all 
allegiance and all homage. " To be sure," his holiness goes 
on to say, " we are fallen into such calamitous times, that 
it is not possible for the spouse of Jesus Christ to practise, 
nor even expedient for her to recall her holy maxims of just 
rigor against the enemies of the faith ; but, although she 
cannot exercise her right of deposing heretics from their 
lyrincipalities, and declaring them deprived of their property, 
yet can she for one moment allow that they should rob 
her of her property to aggrandize and enrich themselves ? 
What an object of derision would she become to heretics 

VOL. VIII. 4* 



38 ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 

and infidels, who, in mocking her grief, ^\'^uld say that they 
had found out a way of making her tolerant.'' Essai His- 
torique sur la Puissance Temporale des Papes, torn. 2, 
p. 320. 

That Leo XII. did not relinquish his pretended right to 
extirpate heresies, is sufficiently intelhgible from the extract 
from his bull for the jubilee given above, to Avhich it may 
be added, that in the " Catechism for the Curates, composed 
by the decree of the Council of Trent, and published by 
command of Pope Pius V., faithfully translated into Eng- 
lish 2^^rmissu siqjerioricm,'' it is expressly taught that " the 
heretics and schismatics, because they have fallen off from 
the church, nor do they belong [do not belong] to the 
church any more than vagabonds or renegadoes belong to 
an army from which they ran away : yet it is not to be 
denied but that they are in the j^oiuer of the church, as those 
who may be judged by her and condemned tvith an anath- 
ema.'' P. 90, London edit. 1687. And in the class-book, 
taught in the Romanist college at Maynooth, which is sup- 
ported by the bounty of the British parliament to the annual 
amount of £8,978, see the Act 7, Geo. lY., c. 79, § 11, 
the candidates for orders in the Romish church in Ireland 
are taught that "The church retains its j^ower over all her- 
etics, apostates, and schismatics, though they may no longer 
belong to its body ; as a general may have a right to inflict 
punishment on a deserter, though his name is no longer on 
the muster-roll of the army." Tract de Theologia, ch. 8 
de Membris, p. 404, cited in the Digest of Parliamentary 
Evidence, Part 1, p. 125. 

XII. NO FAITH TO BE KEPT WITH HERETICS. 

The doctrine that no faith is to he 'kept ivith heretics, was 
established by the Council of Constance : and history abun- 
dantly testifies how religiously the iniquitous decree of that 
council has been observed. Not to insist upon the numer- 
ous plots and conspiracies against the reformed religion in 



ROMANISM CONTRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 39 

Great Britain, from its establishment to the memorable gun- 
powder conspiracy, and the Irish conspiracy in 1*729 ; wit- 
ness the martyrdom of John Huss, wlio, though he had a 
safe conduct from the emi-)eror Sigismund, guaranteeing his 
free access to the Council of Constance, and his free return 
from it, was nevertheless* imprisoned there; and, after a 
process on a charge of heresy, was condemned and burnt to 
death, in violation of every law, human and divine. Witness 
the massacre of St. Bartholomew, in 1572, when 500 Prot- 
estant gentlemen, and 10,000 of the lower classes, were 
assassinated at Paris, and not fewer than 40,000 in the prov- 
inces ; at which pious tidings, Gregory XIII. was so over- 
joyed that he commanded a discharge of artillery to be 
made, ordered the cardinals to return solemn thanks to 
Almighty God, and caused a medal to be struck in honor 
of the unprincipled transaction. Witness also the massacre 
of 1641, in Ireland, where, as in France, sixty-nine years 
before, no ties of nature or of friendship could prevent pa- 
pists from embruing their hands in the blood of their near- 
est Protestant relations. To these instances may be added 
the unprincipled revocation of the sacred and irrevocable 
edict of Nantes, by Louis XIV., against the faith of the most 
solemn treaties, in consequence of which the Protestant 
churches were desti'oyed throughout France ; the soldiers 
committed the most scandalous excesses ; and after the loss 
of innumerable lives, 50,000 of the most valuable and indus- 
trious of the citizens of France were forced into exile. Once 
more, in 1712, when by virtue of the treaty of Alt-Rastadt 
certain places were to be surrendered to some Protestant 
princes, Pope Clement XI., in a letter to the Emperor 
Charles VI., denounced the Protestants as " an execrable 
sect," and in the plenitude of his pretended supremacy 
declared that every thing, which either was or could be 
construed or esteemed to be in any way obstructive of, or 
in the least degree prejudicial to, the Romish faith or wor- 
sliip, or to the authority, juiisdiction, or any rights of the 



40 ROMAMSM CO^■TRADICTORY TO THE BIBLE. 

church whatsoever, " to be, and to have been, and perpet- 
ually to remain hereafter null, unjust, reprobated, void, and 
evacuated of all force from the beginning ; and that no per- 
son is bound to the observance of them, although the same 
have been repeated, ratified, or secured hy oathy Digest 
of Evidence on the State of Ireland, Part 2, p. 243. 



Such are the dogmas of the church of Rome, and such 
has been her practice for many centuries. Individuals of 
hiofh character, belonoinsf to her communion, have disclaimed 
them ; but they remain unrescinded by the united church 
and court of modern Rome. These doctrines — the contra- 
riety of which to Scripture, reason, and in many instances, 
to morality, cannot but have powerfully struck the reader's 
mind — have been promulgated by popes, councils, and can- 
onists : they must be rescinded by the same authorities 
before Protestants can consent to give up those securities 
upon which their civil and rehgious liberties depend. Have 
we any concern for jDure and undefiled religion, for the lib- 
erties of our country, and for the welfare of our children 
and posterity ? Let us then stand fast in the liberty where- 
with Christ has made us free ; and " let the word of Christ,'' 
and not human traditions, " dw^ell in us richly in all wisdom." 
Col. 3 : 16. "For other foundation can no man lay than 
that is laid, which is Jesus Christ.'' 1 Cor. 3:11. "We 
have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty ; not walk- 
ing in craftiness, nor handlmg the w^ord of God deceitfully ; 
but, by manifestation of the truth, commending ourselves to 
every man's conscience in the sight of God." 2 Cor. 4 : 2. 
** If any man teach otherwise, and consent not to wholesome 
words, even the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, and to the 
doctrine which is according to godliness, from such with- 
draw thyself" 1 Tim. 6 : 3, 5. 



IVo. S36, 

POOR SWAIZELAND. 

AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 
BY A CLERGYMAN. 




In the month of December, 1817, as I was on a visit at 
the house of a lady in Kent, England, her daughter request- 
ed that I would accompany her to visit a man who had met 
with a serious accident. 

I walked with her to a little cottage on Eowly-Common, 
in a room of which a poor young man was lying, under what 
appeared to me almost the extremity of human suffering. 
He was a mason, and had been precipitated from a scafibld- 
ing about twenty feet high. He was grievously mutilated 
by the fall ; both his legs were broken, and several of his 
ribs, and his spine was so greatly injured that from the pit 
of his stomach to his feet he appeared perfectly dead, and 
insensible to pain. 



2 POOR SVVAIZELAND. 

When I saw him he had been a year in this condition ; 
but though his bones had been set, the injury in his spine 
precluded the possibility of his moving to turn in his bed, 
or of remaining on his side, if placed there by his attend- 
ant ; so that, being obliged to lie continually on his back, it 
had, in some places, at different times, become very sore 
and painful. He was dependent on charity for subsistence, 
and had been placed in this cottage, with an old woman to 
attend him. When I saw him he was pale and emaciated ; 
but he did not complain of bodily pain : the anguish of his 
body seemed lost in that of his mind. 

He had been a profligate ; and the conviction of his 
guilt, the apprehension of God's wrath, and the dread of 
approaching judgment, seemed to absorb every feeling of 
his heart. He said he felt as if God were holding him over 
the pit of hell, and he did not know the moment when he 
Avould let him drop ; that he had been trying to prepare 
himself to die, and make his peace with God, but felt whol- 
ly unable to do so ; that he had made many promises and 
resolutions to lead a different life, if God would raise him 
up ; but that he should never rise from his bed, and these 
promises would be of no avail to him. 

I endeavored to explain to him, that while he failed of 
going to Christ for pardon, he was setting about the work 
of making his peace with God in a very false way ; that all 
his resolutions of amendment in his external conduct would 
be vain, without the aids of divine grace ; that if he were 
even restored to health, and could put them fully into prac- 
tice, they would be of no avail to give peace to his con- 
science, or salvation to his soul. I endeavored to show him, 
from the Scriptui'es, that the work which he was vainly la- 
boring to do, in his own strength, had been finished for the 
chief of sinners, by Him who died upon the cross. 

I endeavored, in various ways, to illustrate this, and to 
show him, that the effort to appease the wrath of his of- 
fended God, by any resolutions, or any righteousness of his 
own, would be as vain as those of a poor mutilated, bed- 



POOR SWAIZELAND. 3 

ridden pauper, to earn money to discharge a debt of a thou- 
sand pounds. I told him that the Lord Jesus had paid the 
mighty debt for those who beheve in Mm, and who could 
never hope to discharge it themselves ; that he had, by his 
righteousness, fulfilled that holy law of God, which we have 
broken ; that he had, by his precious death upon the cross, 
stood in our place, and borne our curse ; and that the mes- 
sage which he commanded his ministers to proclaim to sin- 
ners, was a message of free and full pardon. That, instead 
of vainly attempting to work out a righteousness of their own, 
perishing sinners should " look imto him and be saved ;" that, 
having died for them, they might be delivered from every 
terror of death, of judgment, and of hell, and be saved by 
his merits ; that therefore I came to him with these " good- 
tidings of great joy :" that, though he had been wicked, 
and profligate, and \ile, yet the Gospel declares, that " the 
blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin ;" that, " though 
our sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow ; though 
they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." 

The poor man listened to these, and many similar truths, 
with deep anxiety, but I could not perceive that he seemed 
either fully to understand, or derive from them that conso- 
lation which they are calculated to give. I kneeled by him, 
and prayed 4;hat the Holy Spirit would teach him to under- 
stand and rest upon this hope set before him, and then 
bade him farewell. 

The next day I visited him, and found him in the same 
state of mind ; I read to him, and endeavored to set the 
same truths again before him, as plainly and simply as I 
could. I prayed with him again, but again left him without 
any perceptible change in his feelings. 

The third day Lis countenance wore the same rueful 
aspect, both when I entered and when I left the room. 

But on the fourth morning, as soon as I opened the 
door of his room, a very different scene presented itself. He 
seemed to have been awaiting my arrival with anxiety — his 
countenance was illuminated with a smile of peace, and 



4 POOR SWAIZELAND. 

hope, and joy — and before I could even ask him how he 
Avas, he burst out, as soon as he saw me, 

" 0, sir, now I understand all you have been saying to 
me. When I was thinking over it this morning, it came into 
my mind at once — if he has died for us — if he has paid our 
debt — then we have not to pay it oiu'selves — we may de- 
pend on him and rejoice." 

" Yes, my dear friend," said I, " that is indeed the glo- 
rious truth of the Gospel ; he has died for us, and we may 
rest on him and be at peace." 

I then opened the Scriptures, and began to read the 
fifth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans : "■ Therefore be- 
ing justified by faith, we have peace with God, through our 
Lord Jesus Christ." 

" Oh yes, sir," said he, " that's true, so we have ; now 
I understand it." 

I went on — " By whom also Tve have access, by faith, 
into this grace wherein we stand, and rejoice in hope of the 
glory of God." 

" yes, sir," said he, '' that's true, we do ; we do re- 
joice, sir, and so we may rejoice, since he has paid our debt, 
and done all for us." 

I went on through a great portion of the chapter, and 
it was wonderful to see how this poor man, to whom, the 
day before, the Bible was a sealed book, who had listened 
with attention, indeed, and anxiety, but without compre- 
hending the truths that were read to him, seemed now to 
have an intuitive perception of the spiritual import of the 
whole ; and instead of requiring a comment from me, could 
give me a practical, and a most instructive comment on al- 
most every word I read. 

The knowledge of Jesus, as the hope and refuge of the 
sinner's soul, is, indeed, the key of the Bible. Like the 
sun arising on a world of darkness, it pours its light on all 
that was unseen before. It was this that enabled this poor, 
unlettered man, not only to understand, but to comment on 
the Scripture as he went along. 



POOR SWAIZELAND. 



For about a month after this I visited him, read to him, 
and conversed and prayed with him, ahnost every day. I 
never saw another cloud upon his brow, nor heard another 
expression of the fear of death or hell from his hps : the 
triumphant passages of the Psalms, and of the prophets, 
were now the natural expressions of his feelings ; and I can 
truly say, that, during all that time, I rather derived in- 
struction from seeing the power of the Gospel so practi- 
cally applied to cheer and enlighten and support a fellow- 
sinner, under the deep distress of poverty and bodily an- 
guish, than conveyed to him increasing edification, by any 
thing that I could say. 

I took one day two young boys, the sons of noblemen, 
to see him, with the hope of making some impression on 
their minds. I told him who they were. I mentioned the 
rank and *-iches of their families. I asked him, in their 
presence, whether he would exchange his poverty, his pain,' 
and the prospect of suffering and death that was before him, 
for their health and strength, and the titles and riches of 
their fathers, without that blessed hope which cheered and 
comforted his heart. He smiled at my question, and as his 
head and arms were the only parts of his body he could 
move, he shook his head, and assured them he would not 
make the exchange, with an emphasis which, in his circum- 
stances, poured more contempt on all that the world could 
give, compared with the glorious hope of the everlasting- 
Gospel, than all the studied eloquence the pulpit ever could 
command. 

I was then obliged to leave that part of the country ; 
but after about two months I went down into Kent, and 
found him in the same happy frame of mind. He told me, 
that no doubt or fear, concerning the all-sufficiency of his 
adorable Redeemer, had crossed his mind ; he still continued 
to go on his way rejoicing, though his bodily sufferings were 
just as when I had seen him before. I read and prayed 
with him, and read over several hymns, which before had 
criven him particular pleasure ; and having stayed with him 
VOL. vni. -3 



6 POOR SWAIZELAND. 

as long as time permitted, I bade him farewell, thinking 
that a very few weeks would bring him to the haven of 
eternal rest. 

In the course of previous conversations, he had told me 
the various struggles of his mind, in the efforts he had made 
by his various resolutions to obtain peace of conscience, and 
satisfy his offended God for sin. 

A person who had visited him, had told him that he 
ought to feel very sorry for his sins, and endeavor by sin- 
cere contrition to obtain the favor of God ; but without 
pointing him to the sacrifice of Christ, and faith in his blood, 
as his only hope. 

" I often strove," said he, '' to feel very sorry ; but when 
I thought I had got myself to be very much grieved for my 
offences, I found my heart going back, and taking as much 
pleasure in them as ever. This gentleman," said he, " also 
advised me to receive the sacrament, as a means of making 
my peace Avith God ; but I would not do it." An expres- 
sion which he made use of on this occasion, evinced great 
ignorance of that sacred ordinance ; and I endeavored to ex- 
plain to him the nature of it : that it was given by our Lord 
to those who believe on him, for a continual remembrance 
of his great salvation, that he had died for them, and fin- 
ished all their transgressions ; but that, when used as a sub- 
stitute for Christ and his salvation, as if it could atone for 
our offences, it ceased to be an ordinance of true religion, 
and was turned, by such a perversion, into an idolatrous 
superstition. 

When I bade him farewell, on our last interview, he ex- 
pressed what pleasure he had lost, after my departure from 
Kent, in not having any person to read the Bible to him ; 
for the old woman who attended him read so very imper- 
fectly, that he could hardly understand her, and he himself 
unhappily had never learned. 

I cheered him, however, with the reflection, that though 
he could not read, he could pray ; and that the promise of 
Christ was not, " He that readeth shall be saved," but, " He 



POOR SWAIZELAXD. 7 

that helieveth shall be saved." Bidding him farewell, I set 
out soon after for Ireland. This was in March, 1818. 

In December of that year, I engaged a friend to visit 
the cottage of my poor brother, to inquire whether he had 
entered into rest, or that he might cheer and comfort his 
heart, with the communion of one who rejoiced in the same 
salvation. He found him still living ; still lying on his back, 
in the same spot on which I had left him ; still rejoicing in 
his Lord, and drawing water out of the wells of salvation. 
He had, in the interval from the preceding March, learned 
his letters, learned to spell, and learned to read his Bible. 

I thought this was the last account I should ever hear 
of poor Swaizeland ; but in April, 1821, I went to London, 
and soon after to Kent, to visit my friend. It was on Thurs- 
day, and, at a miller's cottage on the heath, I Avas informed 
that on the day but one before, he had entered into his ever- 
lasting rest. 

Havinor learned, that the old woman who had attended 
him, lived in a cottage just beside the mill, I mquired of her 
concerning him, 

" Wlien I went to him first," said she, '' he was such an 
impatient, wicked-tempered man, that it was impossible to 
live with him ; but a gentleman came to read the Bible to 
him, for some days, and after that he became like a child, 
so that it grieved my heart to leave him." 

The old lady did not recognize me, but her testimony is 
of great value, to show that the Gospel of Jesus, Avhen sim- 
ply received into the heart, is not only the power of God 
unto salvation, but also transforms the vilest character, and 
turns him, who had before been a servant of Satan, into a 
son and servant of the living God. 

We went on to the cottage where his remains were ly- 
ing ; the door was opened by his sister, who had, for some 
time, attended him ; she was a widow, with five children. 
I asked her for her brother. 

She told me he was dead. 

" How did he die ?" said I. 



8 POOR BWAIZELAND. 

" In great peace with God, sir," said she. 

" What gave him that peace ?" I asked. 

" Oh, sir," she said, " he depended on the blood of the 
Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." 

" Well," said I, " how can that give peace ?" 

*' Oh, sir," said she, smiling, and expressing herself with 
joyful confidence, '' surely, if a person depends on Jesus, he 
may die very happy." 

" And pray, my friend," said I, " who taught you this?" 

" Oh, sir," she replied, " it was my dear brother, who 
is gone." 

She then expressed the joy that she felt at having been 
called to attend him during his lingering illness, and the 
blessings which his instructions had conveyed to her soul. 
" I hear," said I, " that he learned to read before he died." 

*' yes, sir," she answered, " and to write too ! I have 
several hymns of his writing." 

I entreated her to give me one, but she had lent them 
all to a gentleman in London ; he had learned to write, lying 
on his back, w^ith a pencil and a slate. 

I went to see his remains : I could not have recognized 
his features ; he was worn to a skeleton ; his limbs were all 
contracted, and shrivelled to the very bone ; but he had fled 
to Him who dwelleth where the inhabitants shall no more 
say, " I am sick;" " who shall change our vile body, that 
it may be fashioned like imto his glorious body, according 
to the mighty Avorking whereby he is able to subdue all 
things unto himself." 

" Reader, may'st tliou obtain like precious faith, 
To smile in anguish, and rejoice in death." 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



]Vo. 9S7. 

"LIFE FROM THE DEAD." 

AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 



" HOW CAN A MAN BE BORN WHEN HE IS OLD ?"— John 3 : 4. 

H , Esq., is a respectable resident in one of 



the most picturesque and delightful villages in the northern 
states of America. He is now, 1833, turned of seventy- 
years of age ; is a man of more than ordinary natural pow- 
ers, and in his youth enjoyed the advantages of a good 
academical education. Possessing an active mind, and an 
ardent temperament, he never was an idle spectator of pass- 
ing events. This disposition, with a ready utterance, which 
enabled him to speak on all occasions without embarrass- 
ment, led him to engage with ardor in political disputes, 
and on every subject his influence was felt. He was one 
of that class of men who must take sides, and who are con- 
stitutionally inclined to do with all their might whatever 
they undertake. In his hours of relaxation from business 
he was always seen in warm debate with such as were in- 
clined to dispute with him, or zealously giving his opinions 
to those who were accustomed to look upon him as their 
oracle. In these conversations religion was frequently his 
topic. This Avas a subject which occupied many of his 
thoughts, and in relation to which, until his fifty-seventh 
year, he cherished all the deep-rooted opposition which 
usually characterizes open infidels. So great, indeed, was 
his contempt for the Gospel, that he could hardly speak of 
those who professed it with candor. He was often heard 
to ridicule the experience of new converts, and to speak in 
scoffing terms of those who had acquired the most unex- 
ceptionable character of piety. He despised the preaching 
of the Gospel, and, though born of parents who early taught 
him to reverence the Sabbath and the sanctuary, he had 
not for many years been seen in the house of God, except 
VOL. VIIL 5* 



2 LIFE FROM THE DEAD. 

at funerals, and lie generally prevented his family from at- 
tending public worship. 

Thus placing himself beyond the influence of restraint, 
casting off fear, and living with neighbors who, in general, 
were careless, he indulged in the most revolting use of pro- 
fane language. The practice of using oaths became so ha- 
bitual to him, that he seldom uttered a sentence without 
taking the name of God in vain. He spent most of his Sab- 
baths and evenings in ridiculing religion, and in defending 
various systems of infidelity. Sometimes he w'as a Deist : 
he would reject the Bible, but profess to believe in the be- 
ing of a God, and the immortality of the soul. At other 
times he would strenuously urge the probability that death 
would be the end of his being. But his sentiments were 
more permanently those of a Universalist of the common 
stamp. Here was a system peculiarly congenial to his feel- 
ings. It spread before him, in prospect, all that his ardent 
mind could desire, while it imposed no unpleasant restraint 
vipon his life. Tired, therefore, with being blown about 
with every wind of doctrine, he determined to repose in his 
sins, under the soothing prospect that, whatever his life 
might be, all would be well with him at the last. But, pos- 
sessing a mind that was never satisfied to adopt an opinion 
without what he considered to be proof, he found it neces- 
sary to muster his strong arguments. He furnished him- 
self with books for the purpose, and seized upon all the wit 
and ridicule by which the doctrines of universal salvation 
have usually been defended ; and to give his system the ap- 
pearance of authority, he searched the Bible, and selected 
passages, and arranged them with great diligence into a 
system. But I liave heard him say, " Miserable comforters 
were they all !" Yet, in the common acceptation of the 
words, he was an honest man, frank, ingenuous, and open- 
hearted ; and often congratulated himself, and boasted in 

the presence of others, that he was no hypocrite ! But J 

H had a conscience, from which his early impressions 

of religious truth w^ere never entirely effaced — a conscience 
too, which, he is now convinced, was often stimulated to the 
work of reproof by the strivings of the Holy Spirit. He 
was a champion of the system he had adopted, but his mind 
was " like the troubled sea when it cannot rest." 

Mr. H was now fifty-six years of age. His char- 



LIFE FROM THE DEAD. 3 

acter presented the melancholy picture of a miin of respect- 
ability and influence trusting his own soul to a refuge of 
lies, teaching the language of profaneness to a numerous 
family, and leading a multitude after him to perdition. Who 
■would have said that this man would ever be a Christian ? 
" Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his 
spots ? Then may they also do good that are accustomed 
to do evil." 

In 1819 the minister of the place w^as dismissed, and 
removed to another field of labor. His successor arrived 
a total stranger, and the next day, being the Sabbath, be- 
gan to deliver the Lord's message to the people. Among 
his hearers was the man whom w^e have described above. 
His intelligent countenance, the fixedness of his posture, 
and the vivid flash of his eye, caught the attention of the 
preacher, and peculiarly interested his feelings. "■ I was 
never sensible," said he, " of sending forth my whole soul 
with so much solicitude in prayer for a stranger, while, as 
yet, I was entirely unacquainted with his character and con- 
dition." The new minister had a desire to know him, and 
embraced the first opportunity to inquire his name and char- 
acter. To his unspeakable surprise he was informed that it 
was the profane Mr. H , who had attended church be- 
fore but once or twice in eleven years, and that all his ap- 
parent interest in the discourse alluded to, was probably 
only that of a determined opposer. On returning from the 
house of worship he was heard to utter an expression too 
profane to be repeated. Shocked with this intelligence, the 
minister began to reflect upon himself for having urged Avith 
so much confidence the salvation of a soul, upon Avhom, it 
now seemed probable, that, on account of his rejection of 
the truth, " God had sent strong delusions, that he might 
believe a lie," and be lost for ever. He had but little rea- 
son to hope for another opportunity of preaching the Gos- 
pel to Mr. H , still he could not quite give him up, and 

prayed that it might be otherwise than he feared. The 

next Sabbath Mr. H was among his hearers ; and from 

that day to the present, (thirteen years,) he has not failed 
a single Sabbath, when not detained by sickness, of being 
regularly and in season at the house of God. 

His attendance, at first, w^as doubtless secured by the 
following circumstances. Having once attended, as above 



4 LIFE FROM THE DEAD. 

related, a careless neighbor bantered him on the subject ; 
when, on the spur of the moment, he swore he would be 
present more times in six months than his neighbor ! From 
this time neither of them lost an opportunity of outdoing 
his antagonist, until, by the time the other had given up 

the unholy contest, Mr. H had something fastened on 

his mind which bound him to the sanctuary far more strong- 
ly than his profane oath, with all the irreverent curses by 
which it was accompanied. 

During this time the new minister had commenced, in a 
series of connected discourses, a discussion of the doctrines 
of natural religion, which led him often to notice and refute 
the cavils of infidels. From this he proceeded to the evi- 
dences of revelation, and embodied and urged that system 
of arguments which irresistibly proves the divine authority 

of the Bible. The ardent and penetrating mind of Mr. H 

was led captive, and his interest in the subject grew as the 
discussion advanced, while the preacher thought he could 
perceive indications of increasing anxiety Avithin. But to 
those who conversed with him during the week, it was man- 
ifest that, notwithstanding his apparent feeling, his heart 
was still at enmity with God. He would roughly assail the 
arguments of the preacher in the hearing of others, and sev- 
eral times he accosted the minister with opposing sentiments. 
But the minister scrupulously avoided entering into disputes 
with him, and was accustomed to leave him with some sol- 
emn remark on the necessity of pardon through the blood 
of Christ. 

After several months, the weakness of the arguments by 
Avhich this profane man had sustained his infidel scheme, 
became apparent to his own mind. The sunbeams of truth 
had fallen on his dark soul, and scattered the mists of error 
by which he had been deluded. His own wickedness re- 
proved him. He saw that, with the word of God in his 
hand, he had unwisely formed his opinions and constructed 
his system of theology independent of its authority. He 
began to restrain his infidel wit and cavillings ; and one day, 
while passing from the church, he remarked with an oath, 
unconscious of the dreadful inconsistency of the expression, 
that he believed religion a good thing, and that he meant to 
seek it. Soon after this, stung with a sense of the scandal 
he had brought on himself and family by his long neglect 



LIFE FROM THE DEAD. 5 

of the sanctuary, he strictly enjoined it on his children to 
attend worship every Sabbath ; yet in urging upon them 
and others the importance of religion, his conversation was 
often interspersed with oaths and profaneness too shocking 
to be repeated. Indeed, the habit of using profane lan- 
guage had become so familiar to him, that for a considera- 
ble time after his mind was evidently impressed, he seemed 
insensible that he was mingling with his religious remarks 
the very dialect of hell. Of this he was, at length, remind- 
ed. He trembled at the consequences of a sin so wanton 
and senseless, and one of his first efforts at reformation was 
a determination to leave off swearing. To assist him in this 
purpose, he invited his neighbors to reprove him whenever 
they heard him use an oath. This they had frequent occa- 
sion to do, till in a few weeks he subdued a habit which 
had acquired the strength of years. 

Having thus succeeded in this and several other points 

of external reformation, Mr. H trusted in himself that 

he should be righteous. But his prospect darkened as he 
proceeded, and the gulf, upon whose brink he had sported 
away a long life, seemed to yawn wider and wider, the 
more he attempted, in his own strength, to escape its dan- 
gers. His conflicts with particular sinful habits, on whose 
extermination he was resolved, convinced him that they 
were not alone, but belonged to a legion within, which re- 
mained yet to be subdued. He perceived that all his labo- 
rious attempts at external reformation had not even touched 
the seat of his malady, and that so long as the fountain of 
his heart remained uncleansed, it would continue to send 
forth bitter streams. These streams had now become worm- 
wood and gall to his taste. He was oppressed with a deep 
sense of his guilt before God. He ceased to talk of out- 
ward reformation. He was ashamed, and blushed to lift 
up his face even to a fellow-mortal in justification of any 
thing he had ever done. He retired from the society of 
those with whom he had been accustomed to converse with 
fluency on the externals of religion. His whole soul was 
now engaged. So severe was his distress, that he loathed 
his necessary food, and his sleep forsook him in the night 
season. The chills of despair came over him. His coun- 
tenance was cast down to the earth, his flesh was wasting 
away, and serious apprehensions were entertained by his 



6 LIFE FHOM THE DEAD. 

friends as to the result upon his bodily health. He remain- 
ed in this situation about two weeks, during which time his 
convictions of sin were constantly increasing, and he found 
no comfort in Christ. At length he called one morning 
upon the minister who was now settled in the parish, by 
whom he was met at the door. The minister took him by 
the hand, and inquired after his health. " Oh," said he, 
'' I am a poor creature ; there is nothing for me but miser}^, 
in this world, or in the world to come ;" and wept aloud. 
The minister was overpowered, and unable to command his 
feelings sufficiently to reply ; and, unmindful of the notice 
of those who might be passing, he stood in the door and 
wept w^ith him. He has often related the story, and said, 
" I was never conscious of feeling so deeply a sense of the 
goodness of God, and of my own littleness, as wdien I saw 
that gray-headed sinner before me, bathed in tears ; that 
hackneyed transgressor, who had daringly trampled on Sab- 
baths, and sermons, and prayers, and the Son of God him- 
self, now, in the evening of his life, so humbled by the 
power of the Highest, that he would come to me for coun- 
sel." 

The minister soon regained his self-possession, and in- 
vited his new and Avelcome guest to his chamber, where he 
knelt down with him and prayed, and rose up and preached 

Christ crucified for the remission of sins. Mr. H was 

convulsed w4th grief. " Oh," said he, " there can be no 
pardon for me ; I have been such a -wretch, not only in 
spurning the offers of mercy myself, but in teaching my 
dear family to despise religion. I have been angry with 
them, and abused them when they have sometimes stolen 
away from me, and found their w^ay to the sanctuary of 
the Lord's house. And I have been offended with my wife, 
who has often remained in her room alone, I knew not for 
what purpose, after I had retired to my bed. She now tells 
me, what she never dared mention before, that she used to 
sit u}) to iwaij for me. Oh, it is too much to be forgiven !" 

The minister replied, " It can be forgiven, Mr. H . ' It 

is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ 
Jesus came into the world to save sinners, even the chief.' 
Believe this ; go and plead it before the throne of God, and 
be willing to be any thing, that you may promote his glory." 
Mr. H listened with deep feeling ; he partly believed, 



LIFE FROIM THE DEAD. 7 

but his proud heart could not yet consent entirely to give 
up his boasted self-righteousness. The interview closed, 
and he departed, having yet no peace in believing. But 
the Spirit of God had begun a good work in his soul. He 
remained in the deep waters until the following Sabbath. 
Then, as he listened to the message of grace through the 
blood of Christ, a ray of hope lighted upon his heart. 

It had now begun to be a time of revival in the church, 
and others around were asking what they must do to be 
saved. A conference meeting was held on the Sabbath 

evening, which was numerously attended, and Mr. H 

was present. After a powerful address by the pastor, he 
arose and requested liberty to speak. With eyes filled with 
tears, and in broken sentences, he proceeded nearly in the 
following words : 

" My friends and neighbors — I am now fifty- eight years 
of age, and during the whole of my life I have served the 
enemy of souls ; and you are witnesses for me that I have 
done it zealously. I am now determined, in humble reli- 
ance on the grace of God, that I will serve the Lord as zeal- 
ously all the remnant of my days. And I humbly ask an 
interest in the prayers of God's people here, that I may be 
sustained in this resolution. I have been esteemed a man 
of truth, and so I have been, in all my intercourse with the 
world, and you had reason to believe me, when I used to 
say I was a Universalist. I tried to be a Universalist, and 
tried to be a Deist, and once thought I was one. But, my 
friends, I was not. I never was either, I had no rest any- 
where, I never was any thing but an enemy to God. And 
I now humbly ask your pardon for the injury I have done 
you and the cause of Christ, by my example, and by all 
my profane conversation on these subjects. I now put 
all my confidence in Jesus Christ, and choos^e him as my 
portion." 

He was at length overcome by his feelings, and was 
compelled to sit down. The effect on the meeting was vis- 
ible. Great fear came upon all, and every body said that 
the poAver which could effect such a change must be divine. 
He had already established family pi^aj-er, which he has ever 
since continued regularly. He is now an ardent, persever- 
ing Christian ; and all who remember his former state, con- 
template his present character with wonder. 



8 LIFE FROM THE DEAD. 

" Great is the work, my neighbors cried, 
And own'd thy power divine ; 
Great is the Avork, my heart replied, 
And be the glory thine." 

Thus may " a man be born when he is old," by the re- 
generating and sanctifying power of the Holy Spirit, making 
him a new creature in Christ Jesus, a willing servant of the 
Lord. And he, to whom Christ has forgiven much, will 
love much, and. strive to do much for the glory of God. 
The happy consequences of the new birth of the subject of 
this narrative have already been witnessed in the conversion 
of five of his children, who, together with himself and his 
aged companion, are now members of the same church. 
Two extensive revivals of religion have since been enjoyed 
in that place, which have added to the number of the pro- 
fessed followers of Christ more than two hundred and fifty 
souls. Many of these will doubtless praise God in eternity 
for the fervent prayers and zealous activity of the aged, 

but prompt and laborious J H ; and if the Father 

of mercies, in answer to the prayer of the writer, shall deign 
to bless this Tract to the souls of its readers, tens of thou- 
sands may hereafter be converted through its instrumen- 
tality ; and "■ what shall the receiving of them he, hat life 

FROM THE DEAD?" RoDl. 11 : 15. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY 



No. 358. 



THREE ClUEEIES 

TO 

THE REJECTERS OF CHRISTIANITY. 



BY REV. ANDREW PULLER, 



I. How came you to renounce Christianity, and to im- 
bibe your present principles ? 

Retrace the process of your mind, and ask your con- 
science, as you proceed, whether all was fair and upright ? 
Nothing is more common, than for persons of relaxed mor- 
als to attribute their change of conduct to a change of sen- 
timents or views relative to certain subjects. It is galling 
to one's own feelings, and mean in the account of others, to 
act against pri7iciple ; but if a person can once persuade 
himself to think favorably of those things which he has 
formerly accounted sinful, and can furnish a plea for them 
which, at least, may serve to parry the censures of man- 
kind, he will feel much more at ease, and be able to put on 
a better face when he mingles with society. Whatever in- 
ward stings may annoy his peace under certain occasional 
qualms, yet he has not to reproach himself, nor can others 
reproach him, with such inconsistency of character as in 
former instances. Rousseau confesses he found in the rea- 
sonings of a certain lady, with whom he lived in the great- 
est possible familiarity, all those ideas ivhich he had occasion 
for. Have you not found the same in the conversation and 
writings of Deists ? Did you not, previously to your rejec- 
tion of Christianity, indulge in vicious courses ; and while 
indulging in these courses, did not its holy precepts and 

VOL. VIII, 6 



2 THREE QUERIES TO THE 

awful threatenings gall your spirits ? Were you not like a 
person gathering forbidden fruit amidst showers of arrows ; 
and had you not recourse to your present principles for a 
shield against them ? If you cannot honestly answer these 
questions in the negative, you are in an evil case. You 
may flatter yourself for a while that perhaps there may be 
no hereafter, or at least, no judgment to come ; but you 
know the time is not far distant when you must go and see ; 
and then, if you should be mistaken, what will you do ? 

Perhaps you are descended from godly parents, and 
have had a religious education. Has not your infidelity 
arisen from the dislike which you conceived in early life to 
religious exercises? Family worship was a weariness to 
you ; and the cautions, warnings, and counsels which were 
given you, instead of having any proper effect, only irri- 
tated your corruptions. You longed to be from under the 
yoke. Since that time your parents, it may be, have been 
removed by death ; or if they live, they may have lost their 
control over you. So now you are free. But still, some- 
thing is wanting to erase the prejudices of education, which, 
in spite of all your efforts, will accompany you, and imbit- 
ter your present pui'suits. For this purpose, a friend puts 
into your hands some deistical composition. You read it 
with avidity. This is the very thing you wanted. You 
have long suspected the truth of Christianity, but had not 
courage to oppose. Now then you are a philosopher ; yes, 
a philosopher ! " Our fathers," say you, " might be well- 
meaning people, but they were imposed upon by priests. 
The world gets more enlightened nowadays. There is no 
need of such rigidness. The Supreme Being, if there be 
one, can never have created the pleasures of life but for the 
purpose of enjoyment. Avaunt, ye self-denying casuists ; 
Nature is the law of man!" 

Was not this, or something nearly resembling it, the 
process of your mind ? Are you now satisfied ? I do not 
ask whether you have been able to defend your cause 
against assailants, or whether you have gained converts to 



REJECTERS OF CHRISTIAMTV. 3 

your way of thinking : you may have done both ; but are 
you satisfied with yourself? Do you really beheve yourself 
to be in the right way ? Have you no misgivings of heart ? 
Is there not something within you that occasionally whis- 
pers, " My parents were righteous, and I am wicked. O 
that my soul was in their souls' stead ?" 

Ah, young man, if such be the occasional revolutions 
of your own mind, what are you doing in laboring to gain 
others over to your way of thinking ? Can you, from expe- 
rience, honestly promise them peace of mind ? Can you go 
about to persuade them that there is no hell, when, if you 
would speak the truth, you must acknowledge that you 
have already an earnest of it kindled in your own bosom ? 
If counsels were not lost upon you, I would entreat you to 
be contented Avith destroying your own soul. Have pity 
on your fellow- creatures, if you have none upon yourself. 
Nay, spare yourself so much, at least, as not to incur the 
everlasting execrations of your most intimate acquaintance. 
If Christianity should prove what your conscience, in your 
most serious moments, tells you it is, you are doing this 
every day of your life. 

II. How is it, that almost all your writers, at one time 
or other, hear testimony in favor of Christianity ? 

It were easy to collect from those very writings which 
were designed to undermine the Christian religion, hundreds 
of testimonies in its favor. Voltaire and Rousseau, as is 
well known, have, at times, gone far towards contradicting 
all which they have written against it. Bolinghroke has 
done the same. Such sentences as the following may be 
found in his publications : " Supposing Christianity to 
have been a human invention, it has been the most amiable 
invention that ever was imposed on mankind for their good. 
Christianity, as it came out of the hand of God, if I may 
use the expression, was a most simple and intelligible rule 
of belief, worship, and manners, which is the true notion of 
religion. The Gospel, in all cases, is one continued lesson 
of the strictest morality, of justice, of benevolence, and of 



4 THREE aUERIES TO THE 

universal charity." Fame, perhaps, has said as Httle in 
this way as any of your writers, yet he has professed re- 
spect for the character of Jesus Christ. "He was," says 
he, " a virtuous and an amiable man. The morahty that 
he preUched and practised was of the most benevolent 
kind." 

In what manner will you attempt to account for these 
concessions ? Christian writers, those at least who are sin- 
cerely attached to the cause, are not seized with these fits 
of inconsistency. How is it that yourSj like the worship- 
pers of Baal, should thus be continually cutting themselves 
with knives ? 

You must either give up your leaders, as a set of men 
who, while they were laboring to persuade the world of the 
hypocrisy of priests, were themselves the most infamous of 
all hypocrites ; or, which will be equally fatal to your cause, 
you must attribute it to occasional convictions which they 
felt and expressed, though contrary to the general strain of 
their writings. Is it not an unfavorable character of your 
cause, that in this particular it exactly resembles that of 
vice itself ? Vicious men will often bear testimony in favor 
of virtue, especially on the near approach of death ; but 
virtuous men never retuiTi the compliment by bearing tes- 
timony in favor of vice. We are not afraid of Christians 
thus betraying their cause : but neither your writers nor 
your conscience are to be trusted in a serious hour. 

HI. Hoio comes it to jx^ss that your principles fail, as 
they are frequently knoimi to do, in a dying hour ? 

It is a rule with wise men, so to live as they shall wish 
they had lived when they come to die. How do you suppose 
you shall wish you had lived in that day ? Look at the 
deaths of your greatest men, and see what their principles 
have done for them at last. Mark the end of that apostle 
and high- priest of your profession, Voltaire; and try if 
you can find in it either integrity, or hope, or any thing 
that should render it an object of envy. The follow- 
ing particulars, among many others, are recorded of this 



REJECTERS OF CHRISTIANITY. 5 

•writer, by his biographer, Condorcet, a man after his own 
heart. 

1. That he conceived the design of ovei-turning the 
Christian rehgion, and that by his own hand. ''I am wea- 
ried," said he, " of hearing it repeated, that twelve men 
were sufiScient to estabhsh Christianity; and I wish to 
prove there needs but one to destroy it." 

2. That in pursuit of this object he was threatened with 
a prosecution, to avoid w^hich he received the sacrament, 
and publicly declared his respect for the church, and his 
disdain for his detractors, namely, those who had called in 
question his Christianity ! 

3. That in his last illness in Paris, being desirous of 
obtaining what is called Christian burial, he sent for a 
priest, to whom he declared that he " died in the Catholic 
faith, in which he was born." 

4. That another priest, curate of the parish, troubled 
him with questions. Among other things, he asked, "Do 
you believe in the divinity of Jesus Christ?" "In the 
name of God, sir," replied Voltaire, " speak to me no more 
of that man, but let me die in peace." 

Why is it that so many of you faint in the day of trial ? 
If your cause Avere good, you would defend it with upright- 
ness, and die with inward satisfaction. But is it so ? A 
Deist may flatter himself that his principles will bear him 
up in the prospect of death ; and it is possible that he may 
brave it out as it is said David Hume did. Such instances, 
however, are rare. For one unbeliever that maintains his 
courage, many might be produced Avhose hearts have failed 
them, and who have trembled for the consequences of their 
infidelity. 

On the other hand, you cannot produce a single instance 
of a Christian ivlio, at the ai^proach of death, was troubled 
or terrified in his conscience for having been a Christian. 
Many have been afraid in that day, lest their faith in Christ 
should not prove genuine ; but who that has put his trust 
in him, was ever known to be apprehensive lest he should 

VOL. VIII. 6* 



Q THREE QUERIES TO THE 

at last deceive him ? Can you account for that difference ? 
If you have discovered the true religion, and Christianity 
be all fable and imposture, how comes it to pass that the 
issue of things is what it is? Do gold, and silver, and 
precious stones perish in the fire, and do wood, and hay, 
and stubble endure it ? 

I have admitted that a Deist may possibly brave it out 
till the last ; but if he does, his courage may be merely 
assumed. Pride will induce men to disguise the genuine 
feelings of their hearts on more occasions than one. We 
hear much of courage among duellists ; but little credit is 
due to what they say, if, while the words proceed from 
their lips, we see them approach each other with paleness 
and trembling. Your own writers admit, "the Power that 
called us into being, can, if he pleases, and when he pleases, 
call us to account for the manner in which we live here ; 
and therefore, without seeking any farther motive for the 
belief, it is rational to beUeve that he will, for we know be- 
forehand that he can." 

Let this hypothesis be admitted, and that in its lowest 
form, that there is only a possibility of a judgment to come : 
this is sufficient to evince your folly, and, if you thought on 
the subject, to destroy your peace. This alone has induced 
many infidels in their last moments to wish that they had lived 
like Christians. If it be possible that there may be a judg- 
ment to come, why should it not be equally possible that 
Christianity itself may be true? And if it should, on what 
ground do you stand ? If it be otherwise. Christians have 
nothing to fear. While they are taught " to deny ungodli- 
ness and worldly lusts, and live soberly, righteously, and 
godly, in this present evil world," whatever might prove 
true with respect to another, it is presumed they are safe ; 
but if that Saviour whom you have despised should indeed 
be the Son of God — if that name wliich you have blas- 
phemed should be the only one given under heaven among 
men, by which you can be saved, what a situation must you 
be in ! You may wish at present not to be told of him ; 



REJECTERS OF CHRISTIAMTY. 7 

yea, even in death it may be a vexation, as it was to Vol- 
taire, to hear of him ; but hear of him you must, and, 
what is more, you must appear before him. 

I cannot condude this address without expressing* my 
earnest desire for your salvation; and whether you will 
hear, or whether you will forbear, reminding you that your 
Redeemer is merciful. He can have compassion on the 
ignorant, and them who are out of the way. The door of 
mercy is not yet shut. At present you are invited, and 
even entreated to enter in. And every thing which, as a 
sinner, you can want, is graciously provided in the Gospel : 
a free pardon through the atonement of Jesus ; a full justi- 
fication through his righteousness ; and the promised aids 
of his Holy Spirit to purify your heart and reform your 
life. Now, therefore, is the accepted time ; this is the day 
of salvation. But if you still continue hardened against 
Him, you may find, to your cost, that the abuse of mercy 
gives an edge to justice ; and that, to be crushed to atoms 
by falling rocks, or buried in oblivion at the bottom of 
mountains, were rather to be chosen than an exposure to 
the wrath of the Lamb. 



TESTIMONY OF THE INFIDEL ROUSSEAU. 

" I will confess to you that the majesty of the Scrip- 
tures strikes me witli admiration, as the purity of the 
Gospel hath its influence on my heart. Peruse the works 
of our philosophers with all their pomp of diction : how 
mean, how contemptible are they, compared with the Scrip- 
ture. Is it possible that a book, at once so simple and 
sublime, should be merely the work of man ? Is it possible 
that the sacred personage whose history it contains, should 
be himself a mere man ? Do we find that he assumed the 
tone of an enthusiast or ambitious sectary ? What sweet- 
ness, what purity in his manner ; what an aff'ecting grace- 
fulness in his delivery ; what sublimity in his maxims ; what 



8 THREE UL'ERIES. 

profound wisdom in his discourses ; what presence of mind, 
what subtlety, what truth in his rephes ; how great the 
command over his passions ! Where is the man, where the 
philosopher, w^ho could so live, and so die, without weak- 
ness, and without ostentation ? 

" The death of Socrates, peaceably philosophizing with 
his friends, appears the most agreeable that could be wish- 
ed for: that of Jesus, expiring in the midst of agonizing 
pains, abused, insulted, and accused by a whole nation, is 
the most horrible that could be feared. Socrates, in re- 
ceiving the poison, blessed indeed the weeping executioner 
who administered it ; but Jesus, in the midst of excruciat- 
ing tortures, prayed for his merciless tormentors. Yes, if 
the life and death of Socrates were those of a sage, the 
life and death of Jesus are those of a God. Shall we sup- 
pose the evangelic history a mere fiction? Indeed, my 
friend, it bears not the marks of fiction ; on the contrary, 
the history of Socrates, which nobody presumes to doubt, 
is not so w^ell attested as that of Jesus Christ. Such ii 
supposition, in fact, only shifts the difficulty^ Avithout ob- 
viating it : it is more inconceivable that a number of persons 
should agree to write such a history, than that only one 
should furnish the history of it. The Jewish authors were 
incapable of the diction, and strangers to the morality con- 
tained in the Gospel, the marks of whose truth are so 
striking and inimitable, that the inventor would be a more 
astonishing character than the hero.'" Emile, Book 4, 
Works, vol. 9, pp. 1 4*7-151, Geneva. 



FUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



JVo. 339. 

A VIEW 

OF THE 

EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 



BY J. FLETCHER 



1. The sacred penmen, the prophets and the apostles, 
were holy, excellent men, and would not — artless, illiterate 
men, and therefore could not, lay the horrible scheme of 
deluding mankind. The hope of gain did not influence 
them, for they were self-denying men, that left all to follow 
a Master who had not where to lay his head, and whose 
grand initiating maxim was, Except a man forsake all that he 
hath, he cannot he my disciple. They were so disinterested 
that they secured nothing on earth but hunger and naked- 
ness, stocks and prisons, racks and tortures, which indeed 
was all that they could or did expect, in consequence of 
Christ's express declarations. Add to this, that they were 
so many, and lived at such distance of time and place from 
each other, that, had they been impostors, it would have 
been impracticable for them to contrive and cany on a forg- 
ery without being detected. And as they neither would 
nor could deceive the world, so they neither could nor would 
he deceived themselves ; for they were, days, months, and 
years, eye and ear witnesses of the things which they relate ; 
and, to leave us no room to question their sincerity, most of 
them joyfully sealed the truth of their doctrines with their 
own blood. 

2. But even while they lived, they confirmed their tes- 
timony by a variety of miracles, wrought in divers places, 
and for a number of years ; sometimes before thousands of 
their enemies, as the miracles of Christ and his disciples ; 
sometimes before hundreds of thousands, as those of Moses. 
These miracles were so well known and attested, that when 
both Christ and Moses appealed to their authenticity be- 
fore their bitterest opposers, mentioning the persons upon 
whom, as well as the particular time when, and the places 



2 TilE EVIDENCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

"vvhere they had been performed, the facts were never de- 
nied, but were passed over in silence, or mahciously attributed 
to the prince of the devils. So sure, then, as God would 
never have displayed his arm in the most astonishing man- 
ner for the support of imposture, the sacred penmen had 
their commission from the Almighty, and their writings are 
his lively oracles. 

3. Reason itself dictates, that nothing but the plainest 
matter of fact could induce so many thousands of prejudiced 
and persecuting Jews to embrace the humbling, self-deny- 
ing doctrines of the cross, which they so much despised and 
abhorred. Nothing but the clearest evidence, arising from 
undoubted truth, could make multitudes of lawless, luxu- 
rious heathens receive, follow, and transmit to posterity the 
doctrines and writings of the apostles ; especially, at a time 
when the vanity of their pretensions to miracles and the 
gift of tongues could be so easily discovered, had they been 
impostors, and at a time when the profession of Christianity 
exposed persons of all ranks to the greatest contempt and 
most imminent danger. In this respect, the case of the 
primitive Christians widely differed from that of Mahomet's 
followei-s ; for those who adhered to the warlike, violent 
impostor, saved their lives and property, or attained to 
honor, by their new, easy, and flesh-pleasing religion ; but 
those who devoted themselves to the meek, self-denying, 
crucified Jesus, were frequently spoiled of their goods, and 
cruelly put to death ; or, if they escaped with their lives, 
were looked upon as the very dregs of mankind. 

4. When the authenticity of the miracles was attested 
by thousands of living witnesses, religious rites were insti- 
tuted and performed by hundreds of thousands, agreeable 
to Scripture injunctions, in order to perpetuate that authen- 
ticity. And these solemn ceremonies have ever since been 
kept up in all parts of the world : the passover by the Jews, 
in remembrance of Moses' miracles in Egypt ; and the 
eucharist by Christians, as a memorial of Christ's death. 

5. The Scriptures have not only the external sanction 
of miracles, but the internal stamp of the omniscient God, 
by a variety of prophecies, some of which have already been 
most exactly confirmed by the events predicted : witness 
the rise and fall of the four grand monarchies, according to 
Daniel's prophecy, chapters 2 and 7, and the destruction 



THE EVIDENCES OF CIIRISTIAXTTY. 3 

of the city and temple of Jerusalem, foretold by Christ, 
Matt. 24:2; while others are every day fulfilled in the face 
of infidels, particularly the persecution of the real disciples 
of Christ in our times, as well as in all ages — see Matt. 
10 : 22, 35 ; John 15 : 20 ; and Gal. 4 : 29 — and the present 
miserable state of the Jews, so exactly described by Moses 
about three thousand years ago. See Deut. 28 : 65. 

G. This scattered, despised people, the irreconcilable 
enemies of Christians, keep with amazing care the Old Tes- 
tament, full of the prophetic history of Jesus Christ, and 
by that means afford the world a striking proof that the 
New Testament is true ; and Christians in their turn show 
that the Old Testament is abundantly confirmed and ex- 
plained by the New. The Earl of Rochester, the great 
wit of the last century, was so struck with this proof, that 
upon reading the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah, with floods 
of penitential tears he lamented his former infidelity, and 
warmly embraced the faith which he had so publicly ridi- 
culed. 

1. To say nothing of the venerable antiquity, and won- 
derful preservation of those books, some of which are by 
far the most ancient in the world, but to pass over the 
inimitable simplicity, or true sublimity of their style, they 
carry with them such characters of truth as command the 
respect of every unprejudiced reader. They open to us the 
mystery of the creation, the nature of God, angels, and 
man, the immortality of the soul, the end for which we were 
made, the origin and connection of moral and natural evil, 
the vanity of this world, and the glory of the next. There 
we see inspired shepherds, tradesmen, and fishermen, sur- 
passing as much the greatest philosophers as these did the 
mass of mankind, both in meekness of wisdom and sublimity 
of doctrine. There we admire the purest morality in the 
world, agreeable to the dictates of sound reason, confirmed 
by the witness which God has placed for himself in our 
breasts, and exemplified in the lives of men of like passions 
with ourselves. There we discover a vein of ecclesiastical 
history and theological truth, consistently running throuo-h 
a collection of sixty- six different books, written by various 
authors, in different languages, during the space of above 
fifteen hundred years. There we find, as in a deep and 
pure spring, all the genuine drops and streams of spiritual 



4 THE EVIDEXCES OF CHRISTIANITY. 

knowledge which can be met with in the largest libraries. 
There the workings of the human heart are described in a 
manner that demonstrates the inspiration of the Searcher 
of hearts. There we have a particular account of all our 
spiritual maladies, with their various symptoms, and the 
method of a certain cure — a cure that has been witnessed 
by millions of martyrs and departed saints, and is now en- 
joyed by thousands of good men, who would account it an 
honor to seal the truth of the Scriptures with their own 
blood. There you meet with the noblest strains of peni- 
tential and joyous devotion, adapted to the dispositions and 
states of all travellers to Sion. And there you read those 
awful threatenings and cheering promises, which are daily 
fulfilled in the consciences of men, to the admiration of be- 
lievers and the astonishment of attentive infidels. 

8. The wonderful efficacy of the Scriptures is another 
proof that they are of God. When they are faithfully ex- 
pounded by his ministers, and powerfully applied by his 
Spirit, they wound and heal, they kill and malce alive, they 
alarm the careless, turn or enrage the wicked, direct the 
lost, support the tempted, strengthen the weak, comfort 
mourners, and nourish pious souls. As the woman of Sa- 
maria said of Jesus, Come, see a man that told me all that 
ever I did : is not this the Christ ? a good man can say of 
the Bible, Come, see a book that told me all that was in my 
heart, and acquainted me with the various trials and dan- 
gers I have met with in my spiritual travels — a book where 
I have found those truths which, like a divinely-tempered 
sword, have cut my way through all the snares and forces 
of my spiritual adversaries ; and by whose directions my 
soul has happily entered the paradise of divine and broth- 
erly love. Is not this the book of God ? 

9. To conclude, it is exceedingly remarkable, that the 
more humble and holy people are, the more they read, ad- 
mire, and value the Scriptures ; and on the contrary, the 
more self-conceited, worldly-minded, and wicked, the more 
they neglect, despise, and asperse them. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



FOR EVER! 



FROM REV. RICHARD BAXTER 



Alas, what heart can conceive, or what tongue express, 
the pains of those souls that are now enduring the wrath of 
God ! If thou couldst ask the thousands in hell what mad- 
ness brought them thither, many of them would answer, 
" We thouofht we w^ere Christians, and sure of beinof saved, 
till we found ourselves here. We have flattered ourselves 
into these torments, and now there is no remedy." 

Reader, I must in faithfulness tell thee, that these false 
hopes of being saved while thou art living in sin, will prove 
in the end but a ruinous delusion. There is none of this 
believino^ in hell. In this life, thouo-h sinners are threatened 
with the wrath of God, yet their hope of escaping bears up 
their hearts. We can now scarcely speak with the vilest 
drunkard, or swearer, or scoffer, but he hopes to be saved, 
notwithstanding all his sins. 

It is the most pitiable sight this world affords, to see 
such an ungodly person dying, and to think of his soul and 
his hopes departing together. With what a sad change he 
appears in another world ! Think, then, how it will aggra- 
vate the misery of lost souls, that, with the loss of heaven, 
they shall lose all that hope of it which now supports them. 
Besides, they will lose also that false peace of conscience, 
which makes their present life so easy. Who would think, 
when we see how quietly the multitude of the ungodly live, 
that they must very shortly lie down in everlasting flames ? 
They are as free from fears as an obedient believer, and per- 
haps often have less uneasiness of mind. In this life, when 
they were told of hell, or when conscience troubled their 
peace, they had comforters at hand : their jovial friends, 
their business, their company, their mirth. They could 
drink, play, or sleep away their sorrows. There is none of 
this in hell : there all these remedies will vanish. They 
will there lose all their carnal mirth and jovial companions. 
To meditate and pray now, they fancy would be enough to 
make them miserable, or run mad. They were wont to 

VOL. VIIT. 7 



2 FOR EVER ! 

think sermons and prayers long. Oh, how will they regret 
that they thought so, when their doom is fixed for ever. 
Poor souls, what a misery will that life be where they shall 
have nothing but sorrow — intense, heart-piercing, multiplied 
sorrow. Is there one merry heart in hell, or one joyful 
countenance, or jesting tongue ? How wull it even cut them 
to the heart to look each other in the face. What an inter- 
view will there be, when they shall be heard cursing the 
day that ever they saw one another. 

But the torments of lost souls must be extreme, because 
they are the effect of divine vengeance, God, being infinitely 
just as well as abundant in mercy, has himself appointed 
them for those w^ho reject Christ. As it was no less than 
God whom they offended, so it is no less than God who 
will punish them for their ofiPences. If it w^ere but a crea- 
ture with whom they had to do, they might bear it better ; 
but "it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living 
God." Heb. 10:31. 

Consider also, that the body and soul tvill suffer together. 
The body must bear its part, but the soul being of a more 
excellent nature than the body, its torments w^ill far exceed 
those of the body. That body which was so carefully 
attended to, so tenderly cherished, so curiously dressed, 
what must it then endure ! Those ears which were accus- 
tomed to music and songs, shall hear the shrieks and cries 
of their wretched companions : children crying out against 
their parents, who gave them encouragement and example 
in evil ; husbands and wives, masters and servants, ministers 
and people, magistrates and subjects, charging their misery 
one upon another, for discouragement in duty, for conniv- 
ing at sin, and being silent w^hen they should have plainly 
foretold the danger. Thus will soul and body be compan- 
ions in woe ! 

But the greatest aggravation of these torments will be 
their eternitg. When a thousand millions of ages are past, 
they are as fresh to begin over again as the first day. If 
there were any hope of an end, it would ease lost souls to 
foresee it ; but for ever is an intolerable thought. They 
were never weary of sinning, nor will God ever be weary 
of punishing ; they never heartily repented of sin, so God 
will never repent of his judgments. They broke the laws 
of the eternal God, and therefore shall suffer eternal miserv. 



FOR EVER ! 3 

Why does the approach of death so mucli alarm thee ? Why- 
does the thought or mention of hell occasion thee so much 
uneasiness ? If the bare idea be grievous, what must it be 
to endure the torments themselves for ever? Is it not an 
intolerable thing to burn part of thy body by holding it in 
the fire ? What then will it be to suffer ten thousand times 
more for ever in the pit of misery, where thou shalt have no 
other companythan devils and condemned spirits, and shalt 
not only see them, but be tormented with them, and by 
them, night and da}^ for ever? 

Reader, thou art to this day in earnest about the things 
of this life. If thou art sick, or in pain, what serious com- 
plaints dost thou make ! If thou art poor, how hard dost 
thou labor for a livelihood ! And is not the business of thy 
salvation of far greater moment ? If one of thine acquaint- 
ance should come from the dead, and tell thee that he suf- 
fered the torments of hell for those sins of which thou art 
guilty, what a different person wouldst thou afterwards be ! 
If thou hadst seen the judgment-seat, and the books opened, 
and the wicked trembhng on the left hand of the Judge, 
and the godly rejoicing on the right hand, and their different 
sentences pronounced, what a different life Avouldst thou 
afterwards lead ! This sight thou shalt one day surely see. 
If thou hadst seen hell opened, and all its inhabitants in 
their ceaseless torments, and heaven opened, as Stephen did, 
Acts 7 : 56, and all the saints there triumphing in glory, 
what a holy life wouldst tltou have led after such sights ! 
These thou wilt see before long. If thou hadst endured 
one year, or one day, or one hour, the torments thou now 
hearest of, how seriously w^ouldst thou then speak of hell, 
and pray against it ! If thou knewest this were the last day 
thou hadst to live, how wouldst thou spend it ? 

Now, reader, let me solemnly ask thee — What sayest 
thou to all this ? Thou art standing this day on the brink 
of eternity. Wilt thou continue in thy sins, and be lost for 
ever ? Remember, God is in earnest with thee now, and 
will be hereafter. What, shall heaven be utterly lost to 
thee ? Shall the gates of hell be closed upon thee for ever ? 
Trifle no longer. Remember, death is at hand, judgment 
comes next, and after that an eternity of happiness or mis- 
ery ! If thou diest impenitent, unpardoned, and unsancti- 
fied, hell is thy portion for ever ! for ever ! for ever . 



4 FOR EVER ! 

Dost thou then mqiiire, " How can I escape the Avrath to 
come ? What must I do to be saved ?" Acts 16:30. Let 
me tell thee, in reply, If thou art really sincere, and in 
earnest, and dost feel thyself a lost sinner, guilty and con- 
demned before God, and if thou dost really desire to be 
saved, then hearken unto the only "vvay of salvation. " Be- 
lieve on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved," 
Acts 16 : 31 ; *'for God so loved the world that he gave 
his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him 
should not perish, but have everlasting life." John 3:16. 
He died in the place of sinners, as their substitute ; so that 
God can now be just, and the justifier of him that believeth 
in Jesus. Rom. 3:26. Repent, therefore, and forsake thy 
sins. Flee unto Jesus Christ for pardon ; for he says, '* Him 
that Cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out." John 6:37. 
Delay not one moment, lest God's anger consume thee, and 
tear thee in pieces, and there be none to deliver thee. 
Psalm 50 : 22. While the door of mercy is open hasten 
unto Christ, and he will receive thee. Retire to thy room, 
fall down on thy knees, and when none but God can see 
thee, cry mightily unto the Lord for mercy. Plead the 
merits of Christ ; pray fervently from the bottom of thy 
heart, that he would give thee his Holy Spirit, and create 
in thee desires after God and holiness, and so prepare thee 
for heaven, and save thy soul for ever. Remember, the 
blood of Christ can alone cleanse thee from all sin. 1 John, 
1 : 7. He alone can save thee from the dreadful wrath of 
God ; for he came into the world to save sinners. 1 Tim. 
1 : 15. 

Trembling sinner, thou needest not despair. Come to 
Christ and be saved. Remember, life is uncertain. Health 
is uncertain. Now, while thou hast both, set about thy 
salvation in earnest. Christ will pardon thee, and will give 
thee true peace of mind in this life, and when thou diest, 
thou shalt dwell with him in heaven, in perfect happiness, 
throughout the countless ages of eternity. Amen. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



JVo. 361 



THE TAPROOT. 



On a bright and bracing afternoon, early in March, re- 
turning from a visit to an afflicted family, I met with one of 
my intelligent parishioners sitting on a fence. A gorgeous 
sunset was displaying its glories in the west, and my friend 
gave true indications that the day closing around us had not 
been spent in idleness. " What," said I, in a friendly tone 
of recognition, " are you doing here ?" " I want," said he, 
" to transplant that pretty elm into my door-yard, and I 
have been laboring here for hours to dig it up, in vain. The 
tree, perhaps, is a little too old to be transplanted ; but if 
removed early in the spring, and with a large root, trees fre- 
quently live, even beyond the age of this." 

I crossed the fence to take a view of the tree. I found 
it surrounded with a deep trench, and its lateral roots all 
cut ; and feehng that a strong push would lay it on the 
earth, I gave it one. Not a twig nor a leaf moved the more 
on that account. I wondered — and turning to my friend, I 
asked, "Why is it so firm, when so many of its roots are cut, 
and when united to the earth by a stem so small ?" "The 
taproot,''' said he, " remains, and until that is cut it will 
stand firm." Hearing the phrase for the first time in my 
life, I asked, "What do you mean by the tcqrroot?" "Al- 
most every tree," said he, " has its taproot, which goes as 
straight down into the earth as the trunk goes into the air ; 
and until that root is cut the tree stands, and will grow. 
And if I should fill up this trench now, the tree would feel 
but little the cutting of all these lateral roots. They would 
soon grow out, and the tree would be as strong as ever," 

We soon parted. I pursued my way home pondering 
these remarks. The tree was transplanted, and now stands, 
a noble and beautiful tree, just in the place selected for it. 
My friend has been transplanted to another Avorld. Years 
have passed since the above conversation, but it has never 
been forgotten. It has suggested many truths to my mind ; 
and it explains many things frequently occurring under our 

VOL. VIII. 7* 



2 THE TAPROOT. 

own observation, and which frequently cause doubt and 
hesitation. Ponder some of these. 

Are trees transplanted with difficulty after they have 
received a certain growth ? This all admit. The rule is, 
to transplant them, whether fruit, forest, or ornamental, 
when young. Such is the law which rules in the kingdom 
of grace. "How can a man be born when he is old ?" is a 
question of emphatic import to those who have grown up to 
mature years without repentance. 

Has almost every tree its taproot ? So every sinner has 
his besetting sin, which sustains him in his rebellion against 
God more than any other, and even when almost all others 
seem to be laid aside. 

Are the lateral roots cut in vain, until the taproot is 
cut ? Does the tree stand until the taproot is severed ? So, 
as far as their salvation is concerned, men are reformed in 
vain from immoral practices, until the heart is converted, 
A depraved heart is the taproot of that tree of evil which 
bears fruit unto death. And until that heart is taken away, 
the tree stands. 

Is the tree sustained by one root when all others are 
cut ? Through that one root is it nourished into a perma- 
nent,, if not a luxurious growth ? So one sin unmortified, 
with its power over the soul unbroken, secures its final, its 
eternal loss. 

How manifold are the illustrations of these truths in the 
Bible I Why did Balaam, who understood the will of God, 
and saw the visions of the Almighty, do as he did ? Why 
did Judas, after having preached the Gospel, and wrought 
miracles, and been numbered with the apostles, betray his 
Master ? Why did Ananias and Sapphira, and Simon Ma- 
gus, do as they did ? Why did the young man, who asked 
of Jesus what he should do to inherit eternal life, and whom 
Jesus loved, do as he did ? In all these cases covetoiisness 
was the taproot sin ; and that was uncut. covetousness — 
often miscalled prudence and economy, but, by God, idol- 
atry — how many souls hast thou destroyed, and art thou 
destroying I 

But I have said that the above conversation with my 
friend at the tree also explains many things frequently 
occurring, and which induce doubt and hesitation. 

Under the ministry of a faithful pastor sat an amiable 



THE TAPROOT. 3 

man, with unfailing regularity, for years. All hoped he 
was a Christian. At each returning communion season it 
was expected that he would profess his faith in Christ ; but 
he came not. None were more tender than he seemed ; and 
his pastor supposed that he was kept from the communion 
of the saints only by that diffidence and distrust which are 
often the accompaniments of true piety. A truer explana- 
tion came at last. He loved stro7ig drink, but took it only 
at night. The appetite grew until it vanquished shame, and 
he became a daily and open drunkard. He forsook the 
house and the ordinances of God. During the absence of 
his family at church on a certain Sabbath, he drank beyond 
measure- — he fell into the fire — and when his family re- 
turned he was dead, and a portion of his body burned to a 
cmder I Why did not this man, in the days of his tears 
and tenderness, take Christ for his portion? The taproot 
was not cut. 

I knew a young man, who, although the child of pray- 
ing parents, grew up an alien and outcast from the common- 
wealth of Israel. Grace is not hereditary ; it is the gift of 
God. In a spiritual refreshing, he was deeply convicted — 
he hoped he was converted. He sought admission to the 
church ; but fearing that all was not right, he was kindly 
requested to wait until the next communion season. In a 
few weeks afterwards he sat at a gaming-table until the 
stars were quenched in the light of the rising sun. And he 
continued until his death tenfold more the child of hell than 
he was before. The taproot was not cut. 

And the prevalence of some one sin — its reigning power 
over the soul — is the reason why every sinner that hears 
the Gospel does not believe it ; or, that believes the Gospel, 
does not at once, by repentance towards God and faith in 
our Lord Jesus Christ, seek the salvation of his soul. And 
the remaining influence of a sin whose power has been 
broken, is the reason why any Christian fails in consecrating 
himself a living sacrifice to God. 

Header, are you a sinner convinced of the truth of the 
Gospel, without repentance, without faith in Christ ? If so, 
how important to know the sin that holds you back from the 
work of your salvation. There is some one sin that does 
this more than any other; perhaps, more than all others. 
What is it ? 



4 THE TAPROOT. 

What are the objects that most dehght you ? What arc 
the gratifications on which you bestow most time ? Thoughts 
as to what, most intrude themselves when alone ? The last 
thing which the sailor throws overboard, in his efforts to 
save his sinking vessel, is that which he deems most pre- 
cious : what is the sin you are most anxious to retain ? 
When you think of being a Christian, what is the sin, the 
pursuit, the habit, that you feel in prospect would give you 
the most pain to abandon ? These questions point to your 
besetting sin — your taproot sin. Unless cut, you are lost. 

But if old trees cannot be transplanted, may not old sin- 
ners be converted ? Yes, they may. As to aged sinners, the 
difficulty lies in the nature of man, and of sin, and of evil 
habits, and not in the grace of God. Grace is all-conquering 
when God sees fit to apply it. Reader, are you an aged 
sinner ? I have seen the man, fourscore and two years old, 
who bled in the battles of the Revolution, who learned its 
worst vices and continued in their practice until the age 
stated, hopefully converted. I have seen him brought, 
trembling with palsy, in his arm-chair to God's house, and 
there joining himself to the people of God ; and having com- 
memorated the love of Christ, lifting up his withered hands 
to heaven in thanksgiving for the mercies vouchsafed. And 
his subsequent hfe and triumphant death testified that the 
work was of God. But in my experience this stands out a 
solitary case, to check presumption on the one hand, and 
despair on the other. Take then these thoughts for medi- 
tation : 

1 . You have a besetting sin, stronger in its bad influence 
over you than any other. 

2. It is of the highest importance to you to know what 
it is. Resolve to know it. 

3. Reformation is not conversion. The tree stands when 
all its lateral roots are cut. 

4. Unless by the grace of God your heart is changed, all 
is vain. The tree of evil, whose fruit is death, remains, be- 
cause the taproot is not cut. 

5. However aged, or wicked, there is grace and power 
to meet your case. Seek them without delay, and aright, 
and they are yours. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



TO THOSE 

COMMENCING A RELIGIOUS LIFE. 



1. Remember that the commencement of the Christian 
Hfe is hke the " dawning hght, which increaseth more and 
more to the perfect day." Therefore, when the hope of 
peace and pardon dawns in the heart, do not consider the 
great business of hfe as accomplished, but only as begun. 

2. Do not expect so sudden and remarkable a change as 
to leave no doubt of its reality. Did religion enter the soul 
in perfection, and to the entire exclusion of sin, the change 
would be so marked and obvious as to leave no room for 
doubt. But usually, there is in the Christian heart a per- 
petual struggle between good and evil, and thus a continual 
competition of evidence for and against, according as the 
good or evil prevails. 

3. Evidence of piety is not so much to be sought in high 
emotions of any kind, as in real humility, self-distrust, hun- 
gering and thirsting after righteousness, sorrow for sin, and 
a continual effort, in every-day life, to regulate our thoughts, 
feelings, and conduct, by the word of God. It is the nature, 
and not the degree of our affections which is to be regarded 
in the examination of our evidences. Some persons are so 
constituted that they are not susceptible of very strong emo- 
tions, and ought not to expect them, in reference to rehgion, 
any more than other subjects that interest the mind. The 
best way to know our feelings is to see how they influence 
the conduct. "By their fruits ye shall know them." 

4. Do not expect to find, in your own case, every thing 
you have heard or read of in the experience of others. For 
it may be that many things we hear and read of are not 
correct feelings, and do not afford just grounds of confidence 
to any one ; and if they are correct experience, it may be 
the experience of a maAure Christian, and not to be expected 
in the beginning of a religious life. It must be remembered 
that as no two countenances are formed alike, so no two 



2 TO THOSE COMMENCING A RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

hearts are fashioned alike, or placed in exactly the same 
circumstances ; and it would be as vain to seek all the vari- 
eties of Christian experience in one person, as to seek all 
varieties of human features in one face. 

5. Do not expect that the evidence desired will all come 
immediately, and at once. It must come progressively, as 
the result of continued obedience to the will of God. 

6. Do not suppose that religion is a principle of such 
self-preserving energy, that when once implanted in the 
soul it will continue to thrive and increase without effort. 
God will not sustain and bring to maturity the work of 
grace, without your own voluntary concurrence in the dili- 
gent use of means, more than he will cause the harvest to 
whiten in the field of the sluggard. Indulge, therefore, no 
such ideas of inability and dependence on God, as shall im- 
pair a full sense of perfect obligation to do whatever can be 
done in working out your own salvation. God assists those 
who make efforts to aid and advance themselves. 

Y. Entertain no such ideas of the sovereignty of God in 
the bestowment of his grace, as would awaken any doubt 
of his affording needful aid where he sees sincere endeavors 
to grow in grace. If some Christians are more eminent 
than others, it is, perhaps, always through the blessing of 
God on their more devoted efforts. It pleases him to crown 
with success the hand of the diligent instead of the hand of 
the slothful, not only in temporal, but in spiritual things. 
This thought cannot be too strongly impressed upon the 
minds of those who are just commencing the Christian life. 
To them peculiarly, are such promises as these directed : 
"Ask, and ye shall receive ; seek, and ye shall find ; knock, 
and it shall be opened unto you. Every one that asketh, 
receiveth," etc. 

Do not be afraid of indulging in feelings which may 
seem to be right, from the fear of deception. On the con- 
trary, cherish such feelings, and try to recall them often. 
Go forward in the strength of God, and do your duty, and 
he will save you from deception while thus employed. 

8. Do not expect to be made happy by religion, unless 
you become eminent Christians. A half-way Christian can 
neither enjoy the pleasures of the world nor the pleasures 
of religion ; for his conscience Avill not let him seek the one, 
and he is too indolent to obtain the other. The Christian 



TO THOSE COMMENCING A RELIGIOUS LIFE. 3 

may be the happiest man on earth, but he must be a faith- 
ful, active, and devoted Christian, None are disappointed 
in finding rehgion a source of unfaihng peace and joy, but 
those who refuse to drink deep from the wells of salvation ; 
unless we except those who, from some derangement of the 
nervous system, or failure of health, do not enjoy the clear 
and undisturbed exercise of their faculties. 

9. Do not make the practice and example of other 
Christians the standard of inety at which you aim. By this 
means, a more disastrous influence has been exerted on the 
church and on the world, than perhaps by all other causes 
that could be named. Generally, when persons commence 
the Christian life, their consciences are susceptible and ten- 
der. They are strict and watchful in the performance of 
duty, and are pained even by a slight neglect. They have 
been wont to feel that becoming religious implies a great 
change ; that " old things must pass away, and all things 
become new." But when they look among their Christian 
friends, and turn to them for aid, as those who have had 
experience and have made advances in the Christian life, 
they find that they seem to look upon duties and deficiencies 
in a very different manner. They seem to neglect many 
things which the young Christian has felt to be very impor- 
tant ; and to practise many things which he had supposed 
inconsistent with religion. Then commences the disastrous 
eifect. The young Christian begins to feel that he need 
not be more particular than those to whom he has ever 
looked up with deference and respect. He begins to imag- 
ine that he has been rather too strict and particular. He 
begins to take a retrograde course, and though his con- 
science and the Bible often check and reprove, yet after a 
few ineft'ectual struggles, he lowers his standard and walks 
as others do. 

Look into your Bible and see how Christians ought to 
live. See how the Bible says those who are Christians must 
live, and then if you find your Christian friends living in a 
diff"erent way, instead of having cause for feeling that you 
may do so too, you have only cause to fear that they are 
deceiving themselves wdth the belief that they are Chris- 
tians when they are not. Remember, that the farther your 
Christian friends depart from the standard of Christian char- 
acter laid down in the Bible, the lees reason have vou to 



4 TO THOSE COMMENCING A RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

hope that they are Christians, And do not hesitate on this 
subject because you find many professed Christians who are 
indifferent and hix in their practice and example. Remem- 
ber that Christ has said, ''Many shall say unto me in that 
day, Lord, Lord," thus claiming to be his disciples, to whom 
he will say, "I never knew you." Do not let professed 
Christians tempt you to fall into the society of such unhap- 
py castaways. 

10. Do not be inriodical Christians. There are some 
who profess religion, who never seem to feel any interest on 
the subject except when every one else does. It is true, 
there are special seasons of revived religion in the hearts of 
all Christians ; but if it is only at such times that progress 
is made in the divine life, and interest is manifested in the 
salvation of souls, there is great reason to fear that what is 
called religion, is nothing but sympathy with the feelings of 
others. 

11. Be sure that there exists a marked difference be- 
tween your appearance and conduct, and that of those who 
are not Christians. Remember, that Christ has required 
this of you, and that even the ivorld expect it. Do not sup- 
pose you can recommend religion by appearing interested 
in every thing that interests those Avho have no better por- 
tion than this world. Remember that your deportment, 
your conversation, your interest in dress, in company, in 
amusements, the manner in which you perform your relig- 
ious duties, are all carefully noted and Aveighed by those 
around you who do not love religion ; and if they do not 
see a marked difference between you and themselves, they 
either conclude that there is nothing in religion, or else that 
you are a hypocrite. The people of the world expect that 
you will be very different from them, and despise you in 
their hearts if you are not. If you wish to recommend 
relio-ion, let the world see it acted out accordino^ to the 
beautiful pattern laid doAvn in the Bible, and do not suppose 
that you can improve this pattern by any addition or sub- 
traction of your own. 

On one subject there are some who need instruction. 
There is a class of Christians who appear taciturn, unsocial, 
and even sad. This appearance is altogether inconsistent 
with the spirit of religion. Christians ought to appear 
cheerful and happy ; to appear to receive with pleasure and 



TO THOSE COMMENCING A RELIGIOUS LIFE. 5 

gratitude all the lawful enjoyments bestowed by their heav- 
enly Father. Such a gloomy deportment as has been de- 
scribed does not do honor to religion, and causes those 
whom we wish to win to the ways of pleasantness and 
peace, to feel that religion is a melancholy, unsocial, and 
forbidding subject. All professors of religion should en- 
deavor to have such views of God, his love, his providence, 
his care, and should so live, as to be cheerful and happy, 
and to appear so. 

On the contrary, there is a class of professed Christians 
who indulge in frequent trifling and levity. This is quite 
as inconsistent and injurious as the former, and if any thing 
it is more so. Let the Christian, at least, learn to make a 
distinction between cheerfulness and levity. Remember, 
we are commanded to avoid ''foolish talking and jesting," 
and that it is possible to be happy, cheerful, affable, and 
kind, without any trifling or levity. 

12. Remember, that your evidence of possessing rehgion 
ceases when any thing else has the first place in your 
thouo-hts and interests. Relioion should not lessen our 
love for our friends, or our enjoyment of rational pleasures ; 
but the desire to please God, in all our ways, should be the 
prevailing feeling of the mind. Our Saviour says, we can- 
not have two masters ; God and his service must be first in 
our thoughts and aftections, or else the world and its pleas- 
ures are first. If, then, we would find whose servants we 
are, we must find who has the first place in our thoughts 
and affections. 

13. Never for one day omit to read the Bible, with prayer. 
This is a most important direction. It is of the utmost 
importance that you should never, for once, break through 
this habit. Prayer and the Bible are your anchor and 
your shield ; they will hold you firmly in the path of duty, 
and protect you fi'om temptation. You had better give up 
one meal every day, if it is necessar}^ in order to secure 
time for this duty. You had better give up any thing else. 
Nothing is a duty, if the performance of it Avill interfere with 
this duty. Remember, that the Bible, under the teaching 
of the Spirit, is the bread of your life, and the water of 
your salvation ; and that you cannot live in health a single 
day without their strengthening and invigorating influence* 

14. Be regulated by a principle of duty in little thinr/s. 

VOL. VTII. 8 



6 TO THOSE COMMENCING A RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

This is the way that common Christians are to cause their 
light to shine. Few Christians can expect to do any great 
things to show their love for the Saviour, but all can *' deny 
themselves," and thus daily " take the cross and follow him." 
Religion should govern the temper and the tongue ; should 
keep us from indolence, from vanity, from pride, from fool- 
ishness, from levity, from moroseness, from selfishness, and 
all the little every-day foibles to which we are exposed. 
Religion should exemplify its gentleness, in your kind and 
affable manners ; its purity and propriety, in your conver- 
sation ; its benevolence, in your conduct ; and its consist- 
ency and heavenly tendency, in all your ways. 

It is a most excellent method to go to some sincere and 
candid friend, and inquire what are your own defects in 
temper, character, and every-day deportment : and when 
you have discovered these, make it the object of your 
prayers and efforts to correct them. 

One thing ought to be strictly regulated by principle, 
and that is the employment of time. Always feel that you 
are doing wrong when your time is passing unprofitably. 
Have some regularity and method on this subject. En- 
deavor to ascertain how much time should be devoted to 
your friends and to relaxation, and to let the remainder be 
all of it employed in the most useful manner you can devise. 
Never be satisfied with the manner in which you are spend- 
ing your time, if you can think of any possible way in which 
it might be more usefully employed. Remember, that time 
is the precious talent for which you must account to God ; 
and if you find yourself indulging in listless inactivity, or 
tempted to engage in employments of no practical use, 
remember your account to God. Be in a habit of inquiring, 
when you commence any employment, " Is there any thing 
I can do more useful than this ?" And do not be satisfied 
till you have settled the question, that you are doing all 
the good you can. 

15. Attempt, by your efforts and example, to raise the 
standard of piety and activity. If all who are now com- 
mencing the Christian life should make this an object, and 
not fall into the temptation which professed Christians so 
often set before the lambs of the flock, the church would 
indeed soon rise before the world, " fair as the moon, clear 
as the sun, and terrible as an armv with banners." 



TO THOSE COMMENCING A RELIGIOUS LIFE. 7 

Resolve to be an example to those who ought to be an 
example to yon, and take the Bible, and the Bible only, for 
your guide in forming the Christian character. 

Be active in promoting all benevolent objects. Make it 
an object to prepare to lead with propriety, Avhen necessary, 
in all social devotional duties. At this period, when prayer 
and effort must unite in hastening the great day of the 
Lord, let every Christian learn to guide the devotions of 
others, as well as to lift up his own private supplications. 
There is nothing which so much promotes the " brotherly 
love" required in the Bible, and nothing which so much 
promotes union of effort and interest, as social prayer ; and 
every one who commences a religious life, should aim to be 
prepared to perform such duties with propriety, and should 
stimulate others to engage in them. 

16. Do not hesitate in the performance of all the exter- 
nal duties of a Christian, because you do not find satisfac- 
tory evidence that your feelings are right. Religious duty 
consists of two parts, feeling and action ; and because we 
find great deficiency in one respect, we surely ought not to 
neglect the whole. It is as imreasonable as it would be 
not to attempt to feel right till every external duty was 
perfectly performed. If we are dissatisfied with our evi- 
dence, let us go on and do every thing that a Christian 
should do, as the most hopeful way to gain right feelings. 
We surely cannot hope to bring our hearts right by neg- 
lecting our outward duties. 

17. Remember, that the principal duty of a Christian, 
as it respects others, is to excite them to the immediate per- 
formance of their religious duty. Jesus Christ has insti- 
tuted his church in the world, that through its instrumen- 
tality the perishing may be saved. There is no Christian 
but can find some one mind, at least, over which he can 
have some influence ; and if we can do any thing to save 
others from eternal death, nothing should for a moment 
prevent our attempting it. We should persuade our friend 
immediately to give a serious and earnest attention to the 
subject, to search the Scriptures, with prayer for divine 
illumination, and to give the affections and the heart to God. 

Lastly, do not be discouraged because you find that 
you are very deficient in every one of the particulars specified. 
Remember, that the Christian life is a warfare, and that it 



8 TO THOSE COMMENCING A RELIGIOUS LIFE. 

is only at the end that we are to come off conquerors, and 
more than conquerors. Remember, that He Avhom you 
are striving to serve and please is not a hard master. 
Though you have been inexcusable in the commission of 
any sin, and all the difficulties you find are of your own 
making, yet he can be " touched with the feeling of your 
infirmities." When He sees that you really are afflicted 
because you so constantly abuse and forget him, he pities 
you " as a father pitieth his children ;" and so long as you 
use the means he has appointed to keep you from sin, and 
wait upon him for strength and guidance, he will never 
leave nor forsake you. When you feel your own strength 
and resolution failing, go to him who hath said, "My grace 
is sufficient for thee, and my strength shall be made perfect 
in weakness." Call upon him, "and he will be very gra- 
cious unto the voice of thy cry : when he shall hear it, he 
will answer thee. And thine ears shall hear a word behind 
thee, saying, This is the way, walk ye therein, when ye 
turn to the right, and when ye turn to the left." Remem- 
ber, also, that the conflict is short ; the race will speedily 
be accomplished. Soon your deficiencies and guilt shall 
pain you no more ; soon you shall " see him as he is," and 
"awake in his likeness to be satisfied therewith." 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



i\o. ^63. 



INDECISION IN RELIGION, 



*' Hoiv long halt ye between tivo opinions ?^^ said the 
prophet EHjah "unto all the people" — "if the Lord be 
God, follow him ; but if Baal, then follow him," 1 Kings, 
18:21; and thus God now addresses all who are undecided 
in his service. In calling attention to this divine appeal, I 
shall take it for granted, that the reader receives the Scrip- 
tures as the rule of faith and practice ; that he recognizes 
the great truths they- reveal of man's ruin by sin, and sal- 
vation only through faith in a divine Redeemer and by the 
renewing of the Holy Ghost ; and that he acknowledges 
the duty of putting his trust in Christ : while yet, through 
indecision, the subject of his own salvation is neglected. I 
remark, then, 

1. Such indecision is criminal. It is criminal, because 
the relations which we sustain to God and the Scriptures, 
which teach us our duty, alike demand immediate service. 

We are under oblio^ations which never rested on the 
highest archangel. He, like us, has received his all from 
God, and is bound to render it to him again. But he was 
never a rebel against his Maker ; never exposed to everlast- 
lasting woe. For his redemption God never sacrificed his 
only Son. To rescue him from perdition, the Lord of glory 
never left the bosom of the Father, veiled his deity in clay, 
submitted to all the sufferings a rebel world could heap 
upon him, and shed his blood upon the accursed tree. To 
secure to him the offers of this salvation, no band of apos- 
tles spent their lives in toil ; no train of martyrs sealed their 
doctrines with their blood ; no church has been preserved, 
with all its institutions, for eighteen hundred years, amidst 
the wiles of Satan, the flames of persecution, and the still 

VOL. VIII. 8*' 



2 INDECISION IN RELIGION. 

more destructive ravages of internal conflict. But for us 
worms of the dust, guilty and polluted, all this has been 
done ; and it has been effected, too, by God our Creator, 
Jesus our Redeemer, and the Holy Spirit our Sanctifier. 
We are the beings towards whom all this benevolence has 
been manifested ; to whom all this grace is offered. And 
does not this bring us into a relation to God which demands 
our constant, our eternal service ? Surely, then, it requires 
the immediate performance of duty. And in perfect con- 
formity to this conclusion are all the requisitions of the Bible. 

In its injunctions it makes no provision for any delay. 
It anticipates no such delay. In its precepts it declares 
what is, not what will be duty. In its commands it is no 
less decisive. "My son, give me thine heart." "Remem- 
ber now thy Creator, in the days of thy youth." " God 
now commandeth all men everywhere to repent." And the 
language of St. Paul is, *' I beseech you, therefore, breth- 
ren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a 
living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your rea- 
sonable service." 

Indecision in religion is further criminal, because the 
Scriptures point out our duty with sufficient plainness. 

The sum of their instructions to us sinners is, that Ave 
repent, and believe on the Lord Jesus Christ. Every one 
knows what it is to be sorry, to avoid whatever has been 
the occasion of his sorrow, and to pursue, in future, a dif- 
ferent course. Repentance consists in exercising genuine 
sorrow for sin, an absolute forsaking of all sin, and the ex- 
ercise of love and obedience to God. And faith, Avhich the 
Gospel requires, consists in an unwavering belief, or an im- 
plicit confidence in all the record God has given of his Son, 
accompanied with corresponding affections and actions, love 
and obedience. Are not these duties intelligible? Will 
any one say he has difficulty in understanding them ? The 
Bible says to every individual, '* These do, and thou shalt 
live." 

But if the claims of God upon us, the manner in which 



INDECISION IN RELIGION. 3 

he has made known his will, and the actual knowledge we 
possess of our duty, are such as they have been represent- 
ed ; if God has not only created and supported us, but has 
given his Son to redeem us by his blood ; if he has written 
our duty, as it were, with a sunbeam before our eyes, and 
we are constrained to acknowledge that we do understand 
it, is there no criminality in neglecting to comply with it ? 
Does indecision upon this plain, this momentous subject, 
incur no guilt ? What should w^e think of the child, whom 
the highest degree of parental kindness could not excite to 
the performance of a single duty, and who should pay no 
other regard to the injunctions and entreaties of the most 
affectionate parent, than the cold compliment, " They are 
proper, I may sometime attend to them ?" "Who would not 
pronounce him a monster of ingratitude and disobedience ? 
And yet the obligations of a child to his earthly parent bear 
no more proportion to our obligations to God, than man, a 
worm of the dust, bears to the infinite Jehovah. Inasmuch, 
then, as all the motives which urge us to the discharge of 
Christian duties at all, urge us to their immediate perform- 
ance, we see both the fact and the reason that indecision in 
the case is criminal. 

2. Indecision in religion is dangerous. It is dangerous 
from the uncertainty of life. Our salvation must be secured 
while life continues, or it is lost for ever. This life is short 
at the longest. Still, were Ave certain of living to advanced 
age, the danger of delay would not appear so great. But 
when we reflect on the proportion of our race who are 
swept away in middle age, in youth, and even in childhood ; 
when we consider how suddenly disease may prostrate these 
frail bodies, to how many fatal accidents we are every mo- 
ment exposed, and how often, in the midst of all their pur- 
suits, God says to unheeding mortals, " This night thy soul 
shall be required of thee," Avho, that has not fled to the 
blessed Jesus, can indulge a thought of safety ? Who, that 
is not determined to make religion his first, his constant 
business, dares presume to hope for heaven ? 



4 INDECISION IN RELIGION. 

Again, indecision is dangerous on account of its injluence 
in hardening the heart. All our active faculties are strength- 
ened by exercise ; but passive impressions always leave that 
part of the system on which they are made, enervated, and 
less liable to be again affected by the same cause. The 
soldier, -whose blood almost freezes in his veins at the first 
explosion of the cannon, after the exchange of a few shots 
scarcely remembers that he is upon the field of death. The 
surgeon, whose visage whitened, and whose whole frame 
trembled at the sight of an ordinary wound, after a few 
years' practice can calmly amputate a limb, or trepan a 
writhing patient. Not less evident are the effects of this 
principle of our nature in steeling the heart against religious 
impressions. The child hears a few words respecting the 
infinite God, or a boundless eternity, and his eyes are suf- 
fused with tears. When he has arrived at the season of 
youth, and has often heard these subjects discussed, he is 
not so easily afiected. Still, he is tender. Impressive ser- 
mons, or alarming providences, seize upon his heart, and 
tears yet steal from his eyes. But go with him to the pe- 
riod of middle age, and he is seldom seen to weep. Every 
thing that should arouse his attention to the concerns of eter- 
nity, has become so familiar that nothing makes any percep- 
tible impression. He can stand unmoved, even before the 
exhibition of that scene which shook the earth to its centre, 
and clothed the heavens in sackcloth. Follow him to the 
confines of second childhood. This season, it might natu- 
rally be supposed, would be favorable to seriousness. It 
might be expected that the honors, the riches, and the 
pleasures of the world, would now lose their hold upon his 
heart, and that the near approach of eternity would cause 
its scenes to produce upon his mind the eflfect of realities. 
But what is the fact ? It is believed that futurity dwells 
less upon his mind than at any former period. It is true, 
as his system grows feeble, a degree of tenderness returns. 
But, is he affected, it is in view of the past. Does he weep, 
it is at the recollection of youthful scenes, which, even then, 



INDECISION IN RELIGION. 5 

produced no lasting effects upon his mind, and are much 
less likely now to leave any salutary impression. 

If this is the common course where divine grace does 
not interpose, Avhat are the natural effects of indecision in 
the case ? It not only leaves a person exposed to all this 
train of consequences, but that very state of mind itself has, 
perhaps, a more powerful tendency to harden the heart than 
any other state into which the mind can be thrown. When 
truth is forced upon the understanding, and obligation 
pressed upon the conscien<ie, the man is deeply affected. 
He is on the point of resolving. Though to obey he has 
no heart, yet refuse compliance he dares not. But the 
moment the expedient of delaying the decision occurs to his 
mind, he has at once an opiate for every uneasiness ; a shield 
always at hand, with which to resist every dart from the re- 
monstrances of conscience, and every arrow from the quiver 
of divine truth. 

How powerful, hoAV fatal, then, is the influence of inde- 
cision in hardening the already depraved heart, and in less- 
ening the probability that it will ever become the subject of 
renewing grace. 

But once more, indecision in religion is dangerous, be- 
cause it tends directly to iwovoke God to remove from us his 
Holy S2nrit. God says, " My Spirit shall not always strive 
with man." The Scriptures speak of those who are left to 
hardness of heart and blindness of mind. If we believe 
the representations of the Bible with respect to the deprav- 
ity of the heart, we must be assured that the moment the 
Holy Spirit is finally withdrawn from any one, his destruc- 
tion is inevitable. 

God has not only made provision for our salvation at 
infinite expense, and offered it without money and without 
price, but in compassion to our stupidity and obduracy, he 
grants us the influences of his Spirit, to enlighten our under- 
standings, to awaken our consciences, and to aftect our hearts. 
But if we treat with listless indifference that divine Agent, on 
whose operations our eternal all is suspended, what, in the 



6 INDECISION IN RELIGION. 

sight of God, must be the import of such conduct ? Is it not 
saying, in the most decisive language, " Depart from us, for 
we desire not the knowledge of thy ways ?" What can be 
more provoking to the infinite Jehovah ? What more cal- 
culated to induce him to withdraw from us his Spirit, and 
leave us to our own hearts' desire ? And should he do this, 
with regard to any of us, the consequences must be inde- 
scrihahly dreadful. 

No matter how much instruction we might receive, it 
would only serve to pour light upon the understanding, 
against which we should be continually sinning. No matter 
how long Ave might live, it would only be to fill up the 
measure of our iniquities. No matter how much we might 
enjoy Christian society, and how near to heaven we might 
be exalted by~our privileges ; they would only serve to sink 
us lower in the pit of despair, and render the recollections 
of neglected mercy a thousandfold more insupportable. 
How highly, then, does it become us, with deep humility, 
with unfeigned penitence, with determined resolutions of 
obedience, to raise, with the Psalmist, the earnest supplica- 
tion, " Lord, take not thy Holy Spirit from me," 

I have thus considered the criminality and the danger of 
indecision in religion. Faint as the representation has been, 
the subject must appear important. Let it, my dear reader, 
have all the weight on your mind which its importance 
demands. 

But perhaps the reader is conscious that he is one of 
those who remain yet undecided in the great concern of re- 
ligion, and still "halting between two opinions." Allow me, 
then, to say to you, " One thing thou lackestT And that 
is emphatically, the one thing needful. An object, in com- 
parison Avith which, crowns are but toys — worlds are but 
bubbles. 

Suffer me, therefore, to use the utmost plainness, while I 
attempt to prevail on you to abandon the dangerous ground 
on which you are resting, and to take a position more favor- 



INDECISION IN RELIGION. 7 

able to the attainment of your highest good. You are 
firmly convinced that religion is necessary, and that, to be 
happy, you must possess it sooner or later. With rehgious 
truth, too, you have become familiar. But it makes only a 
shght impression on your mind. You have therefore con- 
cluded that you must wait until God shall pass before you, 
in some remarkable event of his providence, or in some sig- 
nal display of his grace : then you presume your attention 
will be excited ; then you shall become a devoted Christian. 

But suffer me to ask, my dear friend, on what basis is 
this presumption founded? If the thunders of Sinai, the 
mercies of Calvary, and the retributions of eternity have 
hitherto produced no effect upon your mind, what can you 
suppose will ever arouse you ? Will Sinai again be clothed 
in terror ? Must Calvary again be crimsoned with the blood 
of an expiring Saviour ? Shall the Holy Ghost dictate a 
new revelation, to portray in livelier colors the indescriba- 
ble destinies of the world to come ? Or must the angel of 
death tear from your embrace the dearest object of your 
affections, and thus cause your eyes to weep, and your heart 
to bleed ? Any of these scenes w^ould be solemn. They 
would be awfully affecting. But with an undecided heart, 
like the Jews who beheld the crucifixion of their Lord, you 
might witness them without one holy affection, without one 
religious impression, and even with a tenfold degree of 
hardness. 

The character of God, the relations w^e sustain to him, 
and the ceaseless mercies we receive from his hand, are 
motives ever before us, Avhich should impel us to obedience. 
Bring them distinctly before your mind. Revolve them in 
the house, and by the way ; when you lie down, and when 
you rise up. And should you find within your bosom a 
heart unmoved by all these claims, a heart that, in view of 
so much excellence, so much love, so much mercy, can feel 
no gratitude, render no obedience, consider, I beseech you, 
what must be the character of that heart, and treat it ac- 
cordino- to its desert. 



8 INDECISION IN RELIGION. 

Fear not to charge home upon it all the guilt which 
such astonisliing insensibility incurs, and determine to allow 
it no peace till it shall yield unreserved obedience. And 
cease not day nor night to cry to the Father of your spirits, 
that he would take from you this heart of stone, and give 
you a new heart of flesh. 

Contemplate also the wonders of the day in which you 
live. It is a day in which operations are rapidly advancing 
for the conversion of the world. Recolkct the claims of 
God upon those who have enjoyed the Gospel, to commu- 
nicate it to the multitude who are perishing for lack of vis- 
ion. And can you remain inactive ? Consider the glory 
that will redound to God, and the happiness which will 
accrue to men, from these efforts of Christian love. And 
can you rest satisfied without any part or lot in the work, 
or with what you can do without faith in Christ, or love to 
the souls of men ? Think of the tide of mercy that is roll- 
ing through the earth, bearing thousands and millions on 
its waves to heaven. And can you sit at the very gates of 
the New Jerusalem, and not make one effort, not form one 
resolution, to participate in its bliss ? 

But I forbear. I cannot doubt that more than the 
half-formed resolution — I will not doubt that the full inten- 
tion to become a Christian is already struggling in your 
breast. O let it be a present determination. Purposes of 
future amendment are of no avail. They are at best but 
delusion. Were crowns presented, deliberation would be 
safety. Were kingdoms proffered, hesitation would be 
prudence. But in the momentous concerns of eternity, 
experience has demonstrated that delay is presumption, 
that procrastination is death. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



!V©. 364, 



GEORGE LOVELL 



AN AUTHENTIC N"ARRATIVE. 




-"-^^^^^^ 



There are some passages in the life of an individual of my 
acquaintance so interesting and striking, that they ought not 
to be withheld from the public eye. They deserve the name 
of co?ifessio7is, and I know no more suitable channel for their 
conveyance than the pages of a tract. George Lovell — for 
by that name I will introduce to my readers the true history 
of the subject of this narrative — was the cliild of a pious 
mother and a moral father. His father was once inclined 
to Universalist or Unitarian sentiments, but the serene and 
steadfast example of his beloved wife, enforcing the Gospel 
truth which he heard every Sabbath from the pulpit, wrought, 
under God, an entire change in his speculative sentiments. 
At the birth of George, his mother, like Hannah, could say, 
' Fo?- this child I irrayecV He was not only consecrated 

VOL. VIII. 9 



2 GEORGE LOVELL. 

to God in fervent and believing prayer, but by a similar 
reach of faith to that which adorned the mother of Samuel, 
was consecrated to the work of the ministry. " / have lent 
him to the Lord. As long as he liveth he shall he lent to 
the LordT Lent, that is, returned, according to the literal 
translation. Happy mother — happy mothers, I may say. 
How many are now rejoicing with then- sons preeminent 
in glory, who were first in the ranks of the church militant 
here. I need only mention, as representatives of the brill- 
iant catalogue, such names as Timothy, Augustine, White- 
field, Wesley, Edwards, Doddridge, D wight, whose infancy 
blossomed, whose youth ripened beneath the smiles and 
tears of maternal piety. There is no feature in the pic- 
ture of domestic beauty so attractive as that of the pious, 
anxious mother, watching the expanding mind of her child, 
that it may seize the preoccupying influence of heavenly 
truth. It is work for an angel. Each lesson is a seal for 
eternity. Thus was George instructed. There was not an 
individual in the family who had any sympathy with the 
pious toil of the mother ; but her task was softened and 
relieved by the recollection of other mothers who had 
gone before her, and by the anticipation of her heavenly 
reward. 

There may be said to be a time when the care of the 
child naturally transfers itself from the mother to the father ; 
I mean that period when the severer studies are to become 
objects of pursuit. Mrs, Lovell had done her part in the 
fear of God, and in the faith of his promises. No indica- 
tions of piety, however, were observed in her son — nothing 
beyond that general sobriety which is the result of careful 
moral training. This, too, was occasionally disturbed by 
sallies of temper, which too plainly demonstrated the wick- 
edness that is "bound in the heart of a child." The spirit 
of disobedience also at times burst through the frail bar- 
riers of education and example, and compelled the father 
to exercise the stern seveiity of the rod. 



GEORGE LOVELL. 3 

When Georfre had reached the as^e of sixteen, death cast 
his deepest shadow over that lovely family, by removing 
her that was its light and its ornament. The wife and the 
mother were no more, but the Christian, the saint, lived 
with God in heaven. George was called from school to 
witness the dying struggles of his beloved mother, whose 
triumphant faith bespoke a spirit " quite on the verge of 
heaven." That hour, with its sad accompaniments, could 
never be effaced from his recollection. The natural heavens 
w^ere darkened by a rising storm ; clouds dense and black 
rolled on clouds ; peals of thunder long and deep, rather 
than sudden and loud, resounded along the sky ; and in the 
midst of these solemn and sublime exhibitions of nature, 
the soul of the dying Christian took its flight to the region 
of everlasting peace and repose. It seemed like death and 
judgment combined. But while their sombre images were 
presented to the mind, another image, even that of the 
triumph and security of the redeemed soul, served to gild 
the scene with a bright and tender ray, and to diffuse con- 
solation throughout the afflicted family. 

A class of sensations entirely new now took possession 
of the bosom of George. He felt himself motherless. For 
the first time in his life he knew what it is to be a mourner. 
Death had taken companions from his side, but never be- 
fore had laid his icy hand on his heart. Every fibre of that 
heart shrunk at the touch. Can it be, he silently asked 
himself, that I have no mother ; no mother to love me, to 
guide me, to pray for me ? Reader, have you ever lost a 
mother ? If you have, you understand me when I say it is 
then that the man, the woman, becomes a child again — not 
in weakness, not in the evanescent emotions of childish age, 
but in affection, in passion, in principle, in all that is beautiful 
in filial love. Then, every remembered act of disrespect, of 
disobedience, of neglect, pains the soul with more than child- 
like sorrow — a sorrow scarcely relieved by the more grate- 
ful recollection of kindness rendered and duty discharged. 



4 GEORGE LOVELL. 

The seriousness of George Avas enhanced by ill health 
He imagined, though as the event proved without founda- 
tion, that the fatal germ of the same disorder under which 
his mother sunk existed within him ; and while he expected 
soon perhaps to follow her to eternity, he shuddered at the 
thought of the endless separation that would imbitter that 
eternity to his lost soul. Such a prospect as this, super- 
added to the thought of an early death — of earthly hopes 
crushed in the bud — of separation from loved friends and 
companions here — of the utter uselessness which the event 
of death would stamp on all those labored acquisitions 
which were great in his own eyes — of soon leaving all in 
this life that was brilliant in promise — such a prospect, I 
say, was of itself sufficient to hasten the decay, if not the 
dissolution of a constitution at no time remarkable for 
vigor. 

He had no discernment of the spiritual beauty and con- 
solation of those words which were among the last on the 
lips of his expiring mother, and which were engraven on 
the marble of her tomb : *' Yea, though I walk through the 
valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou 
art with me ; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." He 
felt like a lonely wanderer amid vast and comfortless soli- 
tudes. When he saw the funeral preparations, when the 
pastor came to condole with the bereaved family, when 
friends came to mingle their sympathetic tears, and espe- 
cially when the first movement was made by the bearers to 
transfer the cold and coffined remains of that saint from the 
table to the bier, from that sweet living home to the home 
of the dead, how did the sadness of his heart grow deeper 
and more painful. Then the deep-toned toll of the church- 
bell, as the procession began to move, vibrated on his heart 
with a new and strange effect. The hollow sound of the 
loose earth, as it fell upon the coffin — how saddening ! And 
when he returned home, and saw his disconsolate father 
and mourning sisters, all in their sable drapery, all the sub- 



GEORGE LOVELL. 5 

jects of undissembled grief, he felt that with this eternity 
he had much to do. 

Rehgion, he now thought, was the most desirable thing 
on earth ; the absolutely necessary thing for heaven. At 
times he prayed ; he wept alone ; he confessed on his 
knees his sins to God. No earthly ear heard one of his 
sighs or groans ; no mind suspected that the sadness of his 
countenance was any thing but the effect of natural grief 
for the loss of a beloved friend. He was treated accord- 
ingly. He was sympathized with, but not addressed as an 
anxious sinner. Nothing was done by his pastor to draw 
out an expression of his feelings. He preached a solemn, 
beautiful, and eloquent funeral sermon, which justly com- 
memorated the exemplary virtues and the triumphant faith 
of the pious dead ; but he gave no private personal warning 
to the impenitent living. And this, too, at a time when 
the hearts of eight children were, like the softened wax, 
susceptible of any impression. Kindness and tenderness 
were among the qualities of this excellent man ; but he 
could not, or would not, administer pointed reproof and 
warning. He was to be commended rather for his pulpit- 
excellence than his pastoral faithfulness. Yet this last was 
what George stood in perishing need of. He told me it 
was his firm belief, that if he had been faithfully dealt with 
at that crisis, by him who had the charge of his soul, or 
by the professed people of God, he w^ould, by his blessing, 
have yielded ; if the way of salvation had been shown to 
him, he would, with his aid, have walked in it. He knew 
not what he must do. He scarcely knew the nature of his 
own feelings. Time, however, seemed as nothing to him — 
eternity as every thing. 

When the first effervescence of sorrow had in a measure 
subsided, George resumed his studies preparatory to his 
entrance into college. Possessing an active mind and a 
keen relish for the dead languages, he studied night and 
day the Latin and the Greek, with no interruption save that 

VOL. VIll. 9* 



6 GEORGE LOVELL. 

the image of his departed mother would often cross the 
page on which his mind w^as intent. The shghtest associa- 
tion would call it up w^ith great force and tenderness, nor 
did it begin to fade from the mental eye, so long as he con- 
tinued near the scene of her death, or the spot of her burial. 
With this image there never failed to be connected the idea 
of her piety, her prayers, her heavenly walk, her faithful 
instructions, her dying admonitions. But against the con- 
centrated force of all these, the enthusiasm of study pre- 
vailed, and my friend preferred the honors of scholarship 
to the blessings of Christianity. How often has he won- 
dered that the Spirit of God did not at that critical period 
bid him a final, a returnless farewell ! How often has such 
a crisis sealed up for ever the hopes of youth ! 

The time soon ai'rived when he was to leave home, and 
enter the walls of a college — a sphere entirely new — encir- 
cled with temptations, not merely to the indulgence of intel- 
lectual ambition, but of gay companionship, of — what shall 
I call it ? — gregarious indolence, of fun and folly, of many 
thincrs which no p'overnmental laws can restram or reach ; 
which nothing but the predominant spirit of religion can 
control. Surrounded as he was by thoughtless young- 
men, courted and caressed by the best scholars, proud of 
his own capacities of attainment, he might have fallen a 
victim the very first year of his collegiate life, but for two 
things. 

The first was, the remembrance of his sainted mother. 
No hving voice could have spoken with more impressive 
effect to his conscience, than did the silence of her grave. 
She had taught him to reverence the Sabbath as none but 
God's — as the keystone of all civil and sacred institutions — 
the day when it becomes an absolute duty to turn the mind 
from secular to sacred subjects. Accordingly, under the 
influence of an enlightened natural conscience, he regularly 
devoted the more private hours of the Sabbath to books of 
a strictly spiritual character. He had, however, a sufficient 



GEORGE LOVELL. 7 

amount of good sense not to mistake good acts and habits 
for real spirituality of mind. At the same time he might 
be said to indulge a kind of self-iighteous hope that he was 
in a fair way to the kingdom of heaven. 

The second circumstance which- powerfully restrained, 
and even highly excited him, was a religious revival which 
commenced during the last term of his first year in college. 
He had contracted, before this revival commenced, a fond- 
ness for what he then thought the innocent, but afterwards 
knew to be the pernicious amusement of ^ancing. Having 
once tasted the gay and guilty^ pleasure, his love for it be- 
came excessive. Excessive and extravao-ant it mio-ht well 
be called, since he was wilhng not only to sacrifice his time, 
but his very soul for it. It Avas the reluctance to give up 
this foolish, but fascinating amusement, that baiTed all ac- 
cess to permanent serious impressions ; and George has told 
me that it was the conviction of his own mind, that he 
should have embraced religion in tliat revival, had not his 
passion for this new-found pleasure absorbed every other 
consideration. 

He that has witnessed a revival in a college knows how 
peculiar is its character. The intellectual standing of its 
subjects, their local contiguity, the solemn regularity of the 
devotional exercises, the fact that all are young men, the 
stillness of every occurring scene, the energy of religion 
working through the social principle, which exists so strong- 
ly in classes, and in the tenants of the same room — all these 
circumstances, combined with the certain prospect that each 
one of these anxious youth is to exert an influence upon so 

* Guilty, because it dissipates the time and the mind, opens the 
door to licentious imaginations, wastes money that mig-ht be bet- 
ter appropriated, encourages the use of wine and strong drink, 
ba^iishes serious reflection, promotes levity, folly, and useless 
conversation, indisposes to prayer and reading the Bible, incites 
infatuated youth to ridicule the ministers of religion and pious 
Christians, and leads on the soul to perdition. 



g GEORGE LOVELL. 

many immortal minds, serve to render the place and tlie 
occasion awful in the highest degree. 

There was one occasion on which George absolutely 
trembled under the powerful exhortation of a member of 
the Junior class, and let fall such expressions as inspired 
hope among the Christian students that he w^as the subject 
of serious impressions and convictions. But these feelings 
soon departed. There was but one member of college, now 
a devoted and self-denying missionary in a foreign land, 
who dared to vi^t him in his room, and address him indi- 
vidually on the subject of his soul's salvation. Would it 
have been believed that the opposition of a heart so trained 
as was George's, would have flashed out under the kindly 
warnino-s of such a friend ? Yet such was the fact. He 
hated the person of his ad\4ser. And what was this but 
hatred of God ? How true, that " the carnal mind is enmity 
against God !" He outlived his convictions. He survived 
the revival, unaffected by its renovating powder. He Avas of 
course prepared to relax even the formal strictness which 
was the result of his religious education. 

In the second year at college he made a retrograde step 
in point of the observance of the Sabbath. From reading 
spiritual books he passed by an easy transition, which sat- 
isfied his conscience, to the reading of the more serious kind 
of poetiy, such as Young's Night Thoughts, Milton's Para- 
dise Lost, etc. This he persuaded himself could not be 
wrong on the Sabbath. Without entering into the question 
of the moral rectitude of reading such works on the Sabbath, 
it is sufficient to say, that he who is satisfied with mere 
works of taste, however solemn the drapery which envel- 
opes them, must be far from the kingdom of heaven. The 
third year found him ready for another step, to read Shak- 
speare, Dryden, etc. By the fourth year he could coolly git 
doAvn to the reading of novels and plays of all kinds. Se- 
rious books were utterly forgotten — literary ambition had 
full possession of his soul — the memory of his mother ceased 



GEORGE LOVELL. 9 

to exert its beneficent power, and my friend was about to 
drift away upon the uncertain sea of life, when the star of 
Bethlehem arose. 

" That star alone, of all the train, 
Can fix the sinner's wandering eye." 

He was sitting alone in his room on the Sabbath, having 
indulged himself with absence from church for the purpose 
of devoming a favorite novel, when his mind was suddenly 
arrested by the Holy Spirit, and the whole current of his 
thoughts instantaneously diverted from their earthly chan- 
nel towards the awful things of eternity. He was alarmed, 
highly excited, distressingly convicted. He thought he had 
received a summons to the bar of God, He expected in a 
few moments to die. He paced the room in a frenzy of 
despair. He threw himself upon the bed, and with the 
fearful earnestness and energy of a dying man, pleaded in 
piteous accents for mercy. He seemed to tremble on the 
verge of life, and felt all the horrors of dying alone, without 
comfort and without hope. When the tumult of his feel- 
ino^s had in a measure subsided, his reflections, thouo-li less 
confused, were keen and painful ; not the less so, from the 
fact that they were constrained in his own bosom. Pride, 
or shame, or something kindred to these, compelled him to 
lock up the distressing secret, while the strange change in 
his appearance was attributed by his friends to bodily sick- 
ness. The very mention of the word death agitated his 
soul to its inmost centre. He relinquished his studies, and 
returned home. He prayed and wept night . and day in 
secret, still afraid of his impending doom, and afraid to 
disclose his feelings to any individual. He passed his min- 
ister without daring to speak. When he lay down to sleep 
at night, he expected to awake in hell ! At length, by a 
mighty effort, he called a pious sister aside, and with a burst 
of tears, which mingled with her own at the recital, he 
fold his convictions. She threw her arms around his neck, 



10 GEORGE LOVELL. 

and continued to weep for joy at such intelligence. The 
deceiver, however, was busy with his temptations. Be- 
tween the constraining convictions of his conscience, and 
his love for the world, there was a deadly struggle. Could 
he give up all for Christ ? As if resolved to let tempta- 
tion try its worst with him, he stole out by night, under 
all the pressure of his convictions, and took his way to a 
ballroom, where an assemblage of his well-known compan- 
ions were engaged in the dance. He entered the room, 
brilhant with lights, gay with music, and ghttering with 
the attractions of beauty and fashion. He stood and gazed 
upon the scene. He was welcomed with the smiles of the 
young and the beautiful. " Can I give this ujpV^ he in- 
wardly asked himself. It Avas a moment big with eternal 
consequences. The scales were equally balanced between 
heaven and hell. One decisive act would probably settle 
his destiny for ever. In this perilous extremity, mercy pre- 
vailed in the very face of rebellion. " / will give up the 
world — / luill decide for God,'' he thought within himself, 
and turning round, he rushed out of the chamber, nor ever 
again turned his face to the folhes and amusements of the 
world. 

The night on which George renounced the ballroom, 
with its splendid and attractive amusements, was one of 
thick darkness to his soul. It might, perhaps, have been 
expected that such a renunciation would be immediately 
followed by a surrender of his heart to God, if, mdeed, it 
were not the consequence of such a surrender. But I have 
too often learned in my intercourse with the awakened, that 
they are willing to give up, sometimes with alacrity, some- 
times with reluctance, one thing after another, if they may 
but reserve the very thing which first of all God requires — 
the heart. Revivals of religion tear away many things from 
the sinner, while he still refuses the supreme love of his 
soul to the great object on which it should be bestowed. I 
have kno\vTi Universalists give up, under the influence of a 



GEORGE LOVELL. H 

revival, their fatal, flattering doctrine, and there stop, I 
have known Deists, under the same influence, honor the 
revelation of God, without submitting their souls to its 
power. I have known the drunkard transformed to a sober 
and temperate citizen, without being transformed into a liv- 
ing Christian. I remember to have seen the moral man, 
perhaps the most difficult case, compelled by the " force of 
truth" to acknowledge the righteousness of Christ as the 
only possible ground of hope, without building on that 
glorious basis. I have seen, also, the gay beauty, to whom 
the charms of this world's amusements were struck dead 
by this holy influence, turn from them in disgust, but not 
to lift her ravished eye to the glories of religion. I rec- 
ognize in these facts a most powerful demonstration of 
tlie collateral good effects of revivals of religion, but I rec- 
ognize also that melancholy character — an almost Chris- 
tian. 

George had liked to have been an almost Christian. 
He gave up his amusements, for how can they " minister 
to a mind diseased?" He gave up his irreligious associ- 
ates ; his studies ; his ambition ; his convivial frolics ; his 
liopes for this life ; his every thing but — the heart. Here 
was the struggle — the bitter agony. He saw hell before 
him ; for when he arrived at home he feared to walk across 
the floor, lest it should open beneath him a passage to the 
abode of the damned. He felt that "sting of death," 
Avhich is " sin," beyond all the acuteness of mortal agony, 
for it was sharpened by "the law." He turned to look 
after the cross of Christ, of which he had read, but saw 
nothing, save dense and threatening clouds, like those 
which enveloped the brow of Calvary in the hour of the 
crucifixion. 

And while he thus groaned beneath the load of his dis- 
tress, what think you, beloved reader, was the means — the 
simple means of his release and his relief?^ A letter — a 
plain, humble letter, from a Christian minister. This kind 



12 GEORGE LOVELL. 

friend, having learned from his sister the state of his mind, 
immediately sat down and "svrote him a clear, plain, and 
faithful letter ; delineating the nature of genuine conviction, 
describing the path through which the sinner must return 
to God, and urging him without a moment's delay to com- 
mit his soul to Jesus Christ. He read it with eagerness ; 
his heart palpitated — his eyes filled with tears — he dropped 
the letter on the floor, sunk on his knees, and poured out 
his soul in believing prayer to God. That moment, to use 
his own expression, " a flash of glory from the cross struck 
athwart my soul — such as, while memory lasts, I can never 
foro:et. It tilled me with amazement at the mercy of God. 
It subdued and melted me into a delicious submission to 
the will of God and the merits of Jesus Christ. He seem- 
ed a precious — precious Saviour — all my salvation and all 
my desire." 

Such was his account of the memorable scene. The 
time — the place — the circumstances of the event — the event 
itself — seemed in his narrative like a present, living reality. 
Nothinof could exceed the enthusiasm with which, at the 
distance of years, he related the circumstances of his con- 
version. He now read the Bible with a new and strange 
delight. Its pages, before dark and uninteresting, were 
now full of light and love. Tliey were luminous with Je- 
sus. Not that neAv light was in them, but he had new eyes 
to discern that light. He loved to spend much time in 
aff'ectionate prayer to God. He felt a peculiar, an earnest 
regard for Christians. He longed for the salvation of sin- 
ners. He thought and believed that he could convince all 
of the excellence and loveliness of Christ. He rose, as 
opportunity presented, in meetings, and exhorted all to em- 
brace that Saviour in wliom he found such ''joy unspeak- 
able." He even cast a longing eye towards the sacred desk, 
though he felt himself at an immeasurable distance from 
that awe-inspiiing station. 

It was e\idcnt, however, to his friends, that God in- 



TEORGE LOVELI,. I3 

tended to make use of him for his glory. And now with 
what deep emotion did he and they remember his early 
consecration by his sainted mother to the holy ministry of 
the Gospel ! Truly, in his case, it could not be said that 
" praying breath was spent in vain." His venerable grand- 
mother wept for joy at her first interview with her favorite 
grandson, after his return to God. He repaired with re- 
newed vigor to his college studies and exercises, and though 
there was a period when Satan tempted and prevailed 
with him to yield to an unholy declension, the faithful re- 
proof of a Christian classmate was blessed in rousing him 
from his sinful dream. Chastised and humbled by the 
affecting remembrance of his sins, mortified to the very 
soul that he should so soon wander from his kind Saviour, 
and grieve the Holy Spirit, he commenced anew the Chris- 
tian course, and gave fresh promise of piety and usefulness. 
He graduated with the full honors of the best of his class, 
and at the public commencement excited the highest hopes 
among his friends and the friends of religion. His father, 
indeed, having been long in political life, and a distinguished 
citizen of the commonwealth of , would have pre- 
ferred that the son of whom he was so proud should seek 
the post of civil honor and distinction ; but with character- 
istic wisdom, and a kind policy, shaped in a measure per- 
haps by a tender regard for his departed wife, he declined 
interfering with the inclinations of his son, or counteracting 
the advice of Christian friends. He had great confidence 
in his abilities, having had occasion to peruse well-written 
compositions of George at the age of thirteen, at which age 
also he had left him for months in the sole charge of his 
business. 

In a few weeks George, having previously made a pub- 
lic profession of religion, entered the Theological seminary 

at , with a deep and awful impression of the sacred 

work to which he felt himself called and devoted. He 
pursued his studies with diligence and ardor, and after 

VOL. VIII. 10 



14 GEORGE LOVELL. 

three years entered, with great zeal and delight, into the 
work of preaching the Gospel. 

He was in due time ordained to a pastoral charge, and 
I rejoice to be able to say that, during the ten years of his 
ministry which have elapsed, he is believed to have been 
instrumental of the conversion of about one thousand 
souls, some of whom are themselves preachers of the Gos- 
pel, and some also have been, and are eminently useful as 
laymen. Occupying an important and responsible station 
in the church, he is still engaged in that glorious work to 

AVHICH HE WAS CONSECRATED AT HIS BIRTH BY HIS MOTHER, 

and called in the fulness of time by the faithful covenant 
God of his mother. 

Fathers, mothers, what you have read is literal fact, 
without embellishment or exaggeration. Can you say, 
" For this child I prayed?" Look at that hud of immor- 
tality, which is imfolding itself at your side. Water it 
with your tears. Breathe over it your prayers. Watch it 
day and night. Present it to God. Surrender it up, not 
only without the shadow of a mental reservation, but with 
the full energy of faith ; and, through the blessing of the 
Holy Spirit, it shall not only bloom in beauty here, but 
vield the fruits of everlastino- iwhteousness hereafter. 



Of George Lovell's conviction of sin, he said to a friend, 
referring to the anguish of his mind on a Sabbath in his 
last year at college, '• I wish you may never be obliged to 
experience the horrors of a guilty conscience as I did. 
What material fire, though it should blaze with sevenfold 
intensity, could ever inflict such pains as I felt that day ? 
I could not doubt but the Saviour meant by ' the worm that 
never dieth,' the stings of an ever-living conscience ; nor 
that he knew all that Avas, or was to be. in the liuman 
heart." 



GEORGE LOVELL. 15 

" Can 3^ou specify the feelings you then had," said his 
friend, " and which you think were conviction of sin ?" 

" Can I ever forget them, you should rather ask, when 
they rose in my mind with such appalling minuteness ? I 
will state them in order. 

1. "I clearly saw the justice of God in sending me — as 
I supposed I was going — to hell. I not only understood, 
but felt my doom to be just. All good and holy beings 
seemed to approve it. 

2. "I could not see how it was possible for me, possess- 
ing the character I did, ever to hold any communion with 
God, ever to look upon him as a pleasant being, or to take 
any complacency in him. To banish myself as far as pos- 
sible from his presence, however w^-etched the alternative, 
I felt would be comparatively desirable. I felt that, although 
the righteous ' hath hope in his death,' I must justly be 
* driven away in my wickedness.' 

3. " Li the course of the four weeks' solemn reflections 
which ensued, agitated as it often was with the most gloomy 
forebodings, I was led deeply to abhor the whole tenor of 
my past life. Among the things which pained me were 
broken resolutions, violated promises, abused mercies, de- 
liberate delays, disobedience to maternal admonitions, neg- 
lect of the Bible, and, in general, utter forgetfulness of God, 
or not remembering him in any sense which could be ac- 
ceptable to him. 

4. " My heart was deeply aftected with my ingratitude 
to God. This sin for a time seemed to absorb others, and 
I wept and prayed, and confessed the black ingratitude of 
my life to so good and kind a being as God. * Against 
thee, thee only have I sinned, and done this evil in thy 
sight, that thou mightest be justified w^hen thou speakest, 
and be clear when thou judgest.' 

5. '' I felt astonishment that any sinner could for a mo- 
ment remain unconcerned, w^hen he had every reason to 
believe he had not made his peace with God. 



16 GEORGE LUVELL. 

6. "I was convinced that I deserved to suffer the exe- 
cution of the full penalty of the law, which pronounces its 
curse upon all those who do not render it personal, per- 
petual, and perfect obedience. Gal. 3:10. I felt the force 
of the truth, ' the law is our schoolmaster, to bring us to 
Christ.' I writhed under the severity of its rod. I was 
sore with its chastisement ; I felt my whole head sick — yes, 
my 'whole heart faint.' When this commandment came, 
sin revived, and I was ready to die. Had I been willing 
at once to die, as to all hopes of solid comfort and genuine 
happiness, except in the abounding merits of Jesus Christ, 
I should not have hesitated about renouncing all at once. 
I should not have lingered around any of the scenes of my 
former follies and iniquities, and, like the wife of Lot, looked 
back upon my darling pleasures in Sodom, while the mes- 
sengers of mercy were hurrying me to a place of refuge 
from the impending storm." 

In turning to God he experienced, 1. A peace of mind 
which he had never before enjoyed. 2. Joy in the service 
of God. 3. A contempt for the things of the world. 4. 
Admiration of the character and work of Christ. 5. Fond- 
ness for prayer. 6. Longing desires for the salvation of 
sinners. '7. A sense of reliance on the perfect merits and 
finished righteousness of Christ. 

The obstacles which, after thirteen years' experience, he 
has found most powerful to resist the sanctification of the 
soul, are, 1. The strong influence of remaining sin. 2. 
Failure in the regular discharge of the duties of secret de- 
votion. 3. The company and conversation of lukewarm 
professors, or of friends who are indifferent to religion. 4. 
Neglect of self-examination, 5. Superficial reading of the 
Bible. 6. Want of habitual contemplation of the charac- 
ter of God. 



JVo. S65. 

DUTIES 



CHURCH-MEMBERS, 



BY REV. THOMAS H. SKINNER, D. D, 



Every man who would have a conscience void of offence, 
should understand his various obligations and duties. What 
duties are of higher importance than those of members of 
the church of God ; and yet w^hat duties are more generally- 
neglected? As this neglect may in some measure arise 
from not well knowing or justly appreciating these sacred 
duties, we shall devote the following pages to a brief con- 
sideration of them. 

Our subject is, the duties of church-memhers as such. 
These persons may be regarded as members either of the 
church universal, or of some particular and local church ; 
belonging to one, they belong to both ; and as they are 
viewed in one or the other of these relations, a correspond- 
ent view will present itself of the character and deportment 
that become them. 

Regarded as members of the universal church, as fellow- 
citizens with saints of all ages and places, as of the house- 
hold of God, embracing his holy family both in heaven and 
earth, what manner of persons ought they to be in all holy 
conversation and godhness : how peculiar, how different in 
spirit, in purpose, in pursuit, in manner of life, from the 
world around them, that lieth in wickedness. Am I a 
VOL. VIII. 10* 



2 DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS. 

member of the church and general assembly of the first- 
born which are written in heaven ? Am I of God's house- 
hold ; of the same family with Abel, and Enoch, and Noah ; 
with Abraham, and Moses, and Samuel, and Elijah, and 
all the prophets ; with Paul, and Peter, and John, and all 
the apostles, and martyrs, and saints in light ; men of whom 
the world was not worthy ? And shall I live amongst men 
like a citizen of the earth, minding earthly things, walking 
after the flesh, and fulfilling sensual aims and desires ? No 
more a foreigner and a stranger to this holy society, ought 
I not to be as a foreigner and stranger to the world ? 

But the better way to obtain definite and useful impres- 
sions of the character becoming members of the universal 
church, is to view them as belonging to some distinctly or- 
ganized portion of that church : our thoughts will thus fix 
upon distinct classes of duties, and we cannot fail to obtain a 
more just conception of the obligations arising out of church- 
membership, taken either in the larger or narrower sense. 

1. One branch of the duty of every church-member, as 
such, relates to the ^:>astor of the church. He is himself a 
church-member, and may claim from his Christian brethren, 
in common with themselves, whatever reo-ard that desiojna- 
tion gives a right to. Nor should intelligence, moral worth, 
and amiableness of manners, be unacknowledged in him, 
more than in another man. But there are special reasons 
why the members of a church should hold their pastor in 
respect. 

He is to them, and with their own consent, the messen- 
ger and minister of Christ, an ambassador of God, whose 
official acts, rightly performed, have their seal and sanction 
in heaven. 

Besides, he ought, at least by his own people, to be 



DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS. 3 

highly esteemed in love for his Avork's sake, the object of 
Avhich is the advancement of their everlasting good, and 
the measures and methods of which are, of all others, the 
most laborious and wasting to flesh and blood ; including 
deep and continual meditations, preaching in season and out 
of season, numberless spiritual conferences with individu- 
als and families, and daily solicitudes about the success of 
his work. Let Paul, in two places, instruct you in this 
respect. " We beseech you, brethren, to know them which 
labor among you, and are over you in the Lord, and ad- 
monish you, and esteem them very highly m love for their 
work's sake." 1 Thess. 5 : 12, 13. And again, ''Obey 
them that have the rule over you, and submit yourselves ; 
for they watch for your souls as they that must give ac- 
count." Heb. 13 : 17. The detail of the duties comprised 
in this obligation thus generally enforced, cannot be neces- 
sary. Let it be in the spirit of a church-member to esteem 
his pastor very highly in love, and to obey him in the Lord ; 
and he Avill need no illumination as to particular duties 
under this head. 

2. Certain men, in many churches, are called to assist 
the pastor in government ; and these persons will receive 
peculiar regard from every worthy church-member. Their 
station is not held for their own sake, but as necessary to 
the peace and prosperity of the people. And as a state 
dishonors itself when it does not hold its own officers in re- 
spect, so every church-member is divided against his church, 
and does it dishonor, who behaves himself unseemly towards 
these brethren while discharging their appropriate duties. 
These duties, and the correlative ones of the people, need 
not be here minutely specified : a docile and well-disposed 
mind can hardly mistake them. This only let me say, that 



4 DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBEUS. 

when a member of the church disdains to receive admonition 
from those authorized to give it, as occasion requires, or 
when he speaks of them contemptuously, or carries himself 
proudly towards them in any way, he reproaches his pro- 
fession, and is a scandal to the church. 

3, The members of a particular church ought, if possi- 
ble, to acquaint themselves ivlth one another. Some churches 
are so large that it is almost impracticable for each member 
to make himself acquainted with all the rest ; and there are 
persons in almost every church who, from various causes — 
some from humility, some from pride and worldliness of 
spirit — keep themselves so much away from their brethren 
as to make acquaintance with them difficult ; and there are 
unworthy members, who are yet not liable to excommuni- 
cation, with whom spiritually-minded Christians cannot, and 
ought not to be familiar ; but that members of a church 
ought to know one another, as a general principle, cannot 
be questioned. 

Associated with them in the same communion, and united 
to one another, like the members of the body, according to 
St. Paul's illustration, alienation and strangeness seem al- 
most unnatural. Professing sameness of character, of spirit, 
of interest, of hope ; professing to have their hearts occu- 
pied and swayed by that pure love which rules in heaven, 
and meeting together in the same place several times every 
week ; joining their hearts and voices in prayer and praise ; 
communing together often at the Lord's supper ; cooperat- 
ing in various voluntary associations for the furtherance of 
their common cause ; mingling thus together continually in 
holy places and services, how immeet, and but for its com- 
monness I had almost said unlikely, that they should scarce- 
ly know each other's names and countenances. 



DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERk?. 5 

Unrestrained intimacy and familiarity, siicli as idlers and 
busy bodies, who go from house to house, and other ill-bred 
persons, practise, is as undesirable and unchristian as it is 
vulgar and uncivil ; nor is it to be expected or wished, that 
the lines by which the several classes in society are circum- 
stantially separated from each other, should run into one, 
and be undistinofuishable in the church's enclosure. Thouo-h 
"the brother of low degree should rejoice," as being in 
Christ ''exalted," and "the rich," as being "made low," 
yet their different degrees, low and rich, remain. Similar- 
ity of condition, education, cast of mind, habits, prescribes 
rules for classification and intercourse, not less among Chris- 
tians than others ; and utility as well as propriety, is mani- 
festly consulted by observing these rules ; and hence there 
should, and needs must be, circles of different degrees of 
acquaintanceship in the same church. But that there ought 
to be among all the members that kind and fraternal feel- 
ing, Avhich makes mutual access easy, and gives free scope 
for the prompt exercise of Christian sympathy and fellow- 
ship as occasions may require, and leaves what degrees of 
acquaintanceship with each other remain among them, re- 
solvable into some other than a blameworthy cause, is clear 
to every one's sense of right, and fitness, and duty. 

4. The law of hrotherly love should have special sway 
over the members of a church. This law, as being enforced 
with new and unparalleled motives, was Christ's neio com- 
mandment to all his followers ; obedience to which would 
demonstrate their discipleship to a Master in whom love to 
them and to all mankind was so powerful a principle. And 
if it be so necessary for all Christians to cultivate the love 
of one another, shall members of the same church neglect 
it and be guiltless ? Shall they meet, and sing, and pray. 



6 DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS. 

and commune together, from week to week, and year to 
year, and yet be at heart cold and strange to one another ? 

If the chiu'ch be very large, it may be with love, as 
with personal acquaintance, each may not be able to form a 
vivid and confidential affection for every one of the rest ; 
and members of a certain class, earthly-minded and incon- 
sistent members, cannot be the objects of brotherly love, 
which is the love of complacency, delight in Christ's image 
in his saints. But with these restrictions, if the members of 
a church are not kindly affectioned towards one another in 
brotherly love, they are, as a community, devoid of spiritual 
comfort, dignity, and strength ; forsaken, in a great meas- 
ure, by the Holy Spirit, and in danger of irretrievable de- 
clension. 

The true glory and might of the church is brotherly 
love. It was this aflFection, as exhibited by the first Chris- 
tians, that enabled them to make their triumphant way 
against the united powers of hell and earth, and to extend 
the kingdom of their Lord, before that generation passed 
away, to the utmost bounds of the civilized world. And it 
was the want of brotherly love among the professors of 
Christianity in after-periods, that led to those divisions and 
desolations by which the course of the church, thenceforth 
until now, has been marked ; nor will the waste places of 
Zion be repaired, and her boundaries be enlarged, as proph- 
ecy requires, until she again clothes herself in the beauty, 
the majesty, and strength of brotherly love. 

5. The members of a church ought to cherish a lively 
symjoathy for one another. Persons so related should take 
a deep interest in each other's happiness ; should bear each 
other's burdens, and enjoy each other's blessings. They 
should have the same care one for another ; and whether 



DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS. 7 

one member suffer, all the members should suffer with him, 
or one member be honored, all the members should rejoice 
•with him. When the members of a church are indifferent 
towards each other's sorrows, and envious of one another's 
prosperity, they can have but little evidence in themselves 
of belonging to Him who " carried our sorrows," and died 
for our sins ; and they certainly give none which is con- 
vincing to the world. 

6. It is incumbent on church-members to seek each 
other's spiritual advancement and edification. If any be 
overtaken in a fault, they who are spiritual ought to restore 
such in the spirit of meekness, considering themselves lest 
they also be tempted. If any be in spiritual trouble, they 
who have endured like conflicts ouQ-ht with o-reat tenderness 
and sympathy to counsel and encourage them. If any are 
feeble-minded in the faith, the strong should endeavor to 
confirm them. If any go astray, they ouight to be sought 
after by those who observe their wanderings, or who are 
best fitted to reclaim them. And in general all the mem- 
bers should pray for and with one another, admonish and 
exhort one another, consider one another to provoke unto 
love and good works ; and cheerfully employ their graces 
and gifts to the edification of the church, keeping order as 
to manner and time, and taking in all respects due heed to 
themselves. 

Yet, have we not to lament that there are many 
such unprofitable and unworthy members, who show no 
concern whether religion flourishes in the church or de- 
clines ; whether their fellow- members walk worthily or un- 
worthily of their privileges ; whether the Holy Spirit does 
or does not utterly abandon them to desolation and destruc- 
tion ? Some are hindered from taking an activ^e part in 



8 DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS. 

furthering the church's good, by nervous timidity ; some 
by false modesty and diffidence ; some by worldly pride ; 
and some by entire want of the life and power of religion. 
Let just discrimination be made ; but let all such church- 
members examine well the reasons of their indifference. 

V, Every church-member should heedfully avoid and 
resist all causes of alienation and division among his fellow- 
members, endeavoring, as the apostle enjoins, " to keep the 
unity of the spirit in the bond of peace." If it be the duty 
of Christians, as much as lieth in them, to live peaceably 
■with all men, it is much more their duty to live peaceably 
with all Christians ; and more so still, with all who belong- 
to the same church with themselves. " Behold, how good 
and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in 
unity;" but this is not a more agreeable spectacle than 
that of a divided brotherhood is painful and revolting. 

A divided brotherhood of Christians, among whom so 
many peculiar causes require that there be but one heart 
and one soul ! Is such a state of things consistent with the 
church's progress in spirituality ? Are Christians growing 
in grace, or laboring successfully for the advancement of 
the Gospel among themselves, when they are divided 
against one another in spirit ? It is impossible. The heav- 
enly dove has flown away from these contenders ; and now 
what do they gain from the ministrations of the Gospel and 
its ordinances ? How serious, how sacred, then, the duty 
of shunning or resisting the first appearance of wiiatever 
has a tendency to produce division ; and w^hat greater mis- 
chief-makers can be found than its authors ? There may 
be, indeed, such general corruption in a church, that purity 
of spirit and fidelity of action may be inconsistent with 
peace ; division may be that church's only hope. But even 



DUTIES OF CHURCII-MEMBERS. Q 

in such a case, to faithfulness should be joined meekness, 
and gentleness, and all those kind graces by vvhich, if pos- 
sible, division may be avoided. 

When members of a church are captious and censorious ; 
when, instead of confessing their faults one to another, they 
carry themselves as if they had no faults of their own, and 
treat others as if they had nothing but faults ; when they 
withdraw themselves from their own assemblies on the pre- 
text of their not being conducted in the proper spirit ; when 
they secretly alienate their fellow-members from the pastor 
and those who help him in government ; Avhen they aim to 
nourish a party in the bosom of their church, and introduce 
or favor measures and proceedings known to be unwel- 
come — in all these instances, they sow the seeds of discord, 
and prove themselves the children of contention and confu- 
sion. 

8. Every member of a church who walks orderly, and 
according to his covenant with God and his brethren, will 
pay regular attendance on the ministrations of the word and 
ordinances. Allowance being made for extraordinary and 
unlooked-for hinderances, it is as much the duty of every 
church-member to attend the stated meetings for pubhc 
worship, as it is the pastor's duty to conduct the exercises 
of those meetings. In a general view, the truth of this 
remark is instantly manifest. The stated meetings of a 
congregation may be too numerous, especially during sea- 
sons of remarkable revival, to admit of their being all 
attended by every member; and when they are so, every 
member ought not to be expected to be always present. 
But when they are not more numerous than custom in all 
the churches requires ; when there is but one weekly ser- 
vice besides the meetings on the Sabbath, and that service 

VOL. VIII. 11 



10 DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS. 

is deemed essential to the spiritual interests of the congre- 
gation, habitual attendance on all the stated meetings is 
not more the pastor's than all the people's duty. For if 
some may justifiably forsake the assembling themselves 
together, so may others, and so may all. 

Strong excuses, I know, are thought to be urged by 
some. They plead their engagements in benevolent labors 
and societies ; but if that plea will suffice in some cases, it 
will in others ; and our weekly lectures may soon be almost 
entirely deserted. But that excuse ought in no case to be 
received. Our benevolent societies must not induce neg- 
lect of the soul ; and the soul is neglected when the ser- 
vices of the sanctuary are forsaken. The number and 
labors of those societies, instead of justifying us in less fre- 
quent and engaged approaches to God, in his house, make 
such approaches more necessary. The business of those 
societies may be performed without devotion or piety ; and 
is, or doubtless will soon be so performed, if the peculiar 
services and hours of piety be not solemnly observed. If 
this business makes us inattentive to our hearts, it will pre- 
vent the salvation of our souls, though called benevolent. 
There are no inconsistencies in the kingdom of God, no 
clashinor of duties with duties ; and since the duties of the 
sanctuaiy are, by universal consent, unchangeable and 
necessary, those of benevolence cannot require them to be 
neglected. 

It is the duty of every member of a church to bear his 
just portion of the church's necessary expenses. It is the 
will of God that they who preach the Gospel should live 
of the Gospel. Their maintenance, therefore, is obligatory 
upon the church, and a share of the burden falls on every 
church-member ; for if one may exonerate himself, so may 



DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS. H 

every one. And why should any one refuse to obey this 
ordinance of God ? Why is not the laborer in this case 
worthy of his hire ? Does he render useless service ? Is 
it useless to watch for souls, and to feed God's heritage 
with divine knowledge and understandings? "If we have 
sown unto you spiritual things, is it a great thing if we shall 
reap your carnal things ?" And if the ministers of Christ 
give their whole time and strength to the service of the 
church, whence is their support to come if the church 
withhold support ? Why should theirs be the only case 
in which recompense for labor should be thought undue ? 
''Who goeth a warfare, at any time, at his own charges? 
Who planteth a vineyard, and eateth not of the fruit 
thereof ? Or who feedeth a flock, and eateth not of the 
milk of the flock?" 

But besides the support of the pastor, there are other 
expenses incident to the continuance of a church, which 
ought to be distributed in just proportions among the mem- 
bers. The relief of poor brethren, keeping the house of 
God in order, properly conducting the sacred music, atten- 
tion to the external convenience and comfort of the assem- 
bly in time of worsliip, all demand, and ought to receive 
pecuniary contribution from every church-member Avho does 
not live by charity. And that member of the church who 
enjoys the chm-ch's privileges, and bears not his part of her 
burdens, but leaves these to be sustained by others, sets an 
example of inconsistency, not to say dishonesty, which, if 
followed, would abolish the being of the church. 

10. It is binding on every church-member to cooperate 
with his brethren in their exertions for the furtherance of 
the Gospel in the world. This, next to the glory of God, is 
the highest end and purpose of churches. If it may be 



12 DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS. 

truly said of private Christians, they are " the salt of the 
earth," they are "the light of the ^vorld," with greater 
emphasis may it be said of local churches. If a private 
Christian is required by the law and spirit of his religion to 
spend and be spent for the conversion of the world, is not 
the same thing required of a number of Christians associated 
together in a church ? Ought not these Christians, in their 
holy and happy pale, to take counsel with each other, and 
devise the best plans for exerting their utmost combined 
strength for the advancement of the Gospel among those 
who, are without it ? Surely, a church that contents itself 
Avitli seeking its own promotion, loses sight of its proper 
aim and design, and wants, m a lamentable degree, the 
spirit of its Saviour and his religion. This is now manifest, 
and it begins to be generally acknowledged by the church- 
es; and there are societies in almost all the churches 
formed to aid in the glorious w^ork of converting the world 
to God. 

And what worthy church-member can refuse to take 
part in the contributions and sacrifices of these truly Chris- 
tian societies ? Can the refuser vindicate his conduct, when 
if all should imitate his example, the efforts of Christen- 
dom for the propagation of the Gospel would come to an 
end? He cannot. When he joined the church, he virtu- 
ally covenanted to cooperate with his fellow-members in 
the necessary exertions for the spread of the Gospel, and if 
he had not so covenanted, the spirit and precepts of the 
religion he professes oblige him. 

But are these societies necessary ? They are. Without 
Bible societies, how can the Bible be printed and distrib- 
uted in all the languages of the earth ? Without mission- 
ary societies, how can living teachers be sent among the 



DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS. 13 

nations? Without education societies, how can men be 
trained in sufficient numbers for the work of the ministry ? 
"Without tract societies how can the mass of the people be 
imbued with divine knowledge? And without Sunday- 
school societies, how can the rising generation be rescued 
from corruption and ruin ? All these societies are neces- 
sary. God has need of them all. And the demand of God 
is not met by that member of the church who does not 
contribute to their support according to his ability. 

11. Finally, every member of a church ought to 
strengthen the influence of church discipline, by concurring 
in the just censure that may be pronounced against delin- 
quents. What can bring backsliders and scandalous mem- 
bers to repentance, if the disciphne of the church, solemnly 
administered, cannot ? For church-members to impair the 
power of this benevolent instrumentality by taking part 
with the scandalous, is cruelty to them, as well as rebellion 
against church order. Scandalous persons, persons whose 
disorderly walk exposes the Christian profession to reproach, 
are apt, in their deadness and stupidity to all spiritual 
things, to despise ecclesiastical censure. And is it worthy 
of a professing Christian to encourage such persons in their 
fatal infatuation ? 

Now, having endeavored, under the guidance of the 
Scriptures in every particular, to set forth the duties of 
membership in the church of God, let me very briefly urge, 
in conclusion, some of the considerations which demand the 
faithful performance of these duties. 

1. The strength, prosperity, and usefulness of the church, 
depend, under God, on her individual members discharging 
the obligations which their relation to her imposes and im- 

VOL. VIII. 11* 



14 DUTIES OF CHURCH -MEMBERS. 

plies. Let church-members be faithless, and what is the 
church herself but a mass of corruption ? The light of Zion 
then shines, and her glory is come, and the world feels her 
reclaiming and sanctifying influence, when her sons and her 
daughters are in all respects dutiful and true to her, and 
to one another. But let it be otherwise, and the light of 
the world is quenched ; the salt of the earth has lost its 
saltness, and is thenceforth good for nothing but to be 
cast out and trodden under foot of men. What persons 
living exert an influence so injurious, or do as much harm, 
as unfaithful and disorderly church-members ? 

2. You are bound by covenant and contract to perform 
these duties. Such a contract you have entered into both 
with the church and with God. Your baptism declares 
that you are under vows to the Lord, to walk in all his 
commandments and ordinances ; and you renew these sol- 
emn engagements whenever you partake of the Lord's sup- 
per. How sacred are your obligations to be an exemplary 
church-member : how great your guilt if you are not ! 
" When thou vowest a vow unto God, defer not to pay it ; 
for he hath no pleasure in fools : pay that which thou hast 
vowed. Better is it that thou shouldst not vow, than that 
thou shouldst vow and not pay." Consider what influence 
your engagement would have upon you, if it were merely 
a worldly covenant, lawfully ratified and confirmed, between 
yourself and your fellow-men. You would not, even in 
that case, disregard it. The fear of the world's contempt 
and punishment, if not a sense of probity and self-respect, 
w^ould make you mindful of youi* obhgation. And will not 
the fear of eternal contempt and shame ; will not love to 
God, and gratitude to Christ, and the pleasure of a good 
conscience, and the hope of heaven, keep you from violating 



DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS. 15 

the solemn duties lo the church, which you are bound, by 
covenant both with God and man, to fulfil ? 

3, Your conduct in this respect is the true test of your 
personal piety. You have no sufficient cause to think your- 
self truly pious, if you shght your duties as a member of 
the church. What are you the better for calling Christ 
Lord, Lord, if you do not the things which he commands 
you ; or for professing to know God, if in works you disown 
him ; or for having the form of godliness, if you deny its 
power ; or for walking in the garb of a Christian, if you are, 
in example, an enemy to the cross of Christ? And are 
you obedient to Christ's commands, do you not disown 
God in works, do you not deny the power of godliness, are 
you not practically an enemy of the cross of Christ, if you 
are regardless of the sacred obligations of church-member- 
ship ? What good evidence of personal holiness can they 
have, who, belonging to the household of God, care nothing 
for the order, and the peace, and the honor of that house- 
hold? Are they not enemies to all righteousness, who 
thus violate the most awful of all the relations of righteous- 
ness ? Who are wicked, who are unprincipled, who are 
disobedient and to every good work reprobate, who have 
consciences seared as with a hot iron, if not those members 
of the church who make light of the responsibilities and 
duties of members? AVhat is the religion of such per- 
sons, but an abomination, a mockery in the sight of God, 
and a stumbling-block to the world ? Of all persons the 
most hopelessly hardened, according to both observation 
and Scripture, are unfaithful members of the church. And 
hence I remark, finally, that, 

4. Of all persons these are they whose destruction loill 
he the most fearful. They will not only perish, but perish 



16 DUTIES OF CHURCH-MEMBERS. 

more terribly than others. They will be cast out of the 
kingdom of God ** into outer darkness, where are weeping,'* 
and wailing, " and gnashing of teeth." This, by express 
declaration of Scripture, is the doom of false-hearted and 
unfaithful members of the visible church. None sin as do 
they, and none, other things being equal, will be punished 
so severely. " The sinners in Zion are afraid ; fearfulness 
hath surprised the hypocrites. Who among us shall dwell 
with the devouring fire ? Who among us shall dwell with 
everlasting burnings ?" 



LOYE TO THE CHURCH. 

I love thy kingdom, Lord, 

The house of thine abode. 
The church our blest Redeemer saved 

With his own precious blood. 

If e'er, to bless thy sons, 

My voice or hands deny, 
These hands let useful skill forsake. 

This voice in silence die. 

If e'er my heart forget 

Her welfare or her woe. 
Let every joy this heart forsake. 

And every grief o'erflow. 

For her my tears shall fall. 

For her my prayers ascend ; 
To her my cares and toils be given. 

Till toils and cares shall end. watts. 



]¥o. 206. 

BLIND BETSEY; 

OR, 

COMFORT FOR THE AFFLICTED 

AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 



The writer was for many years intimately acquainted 
with the subject of this narrative, in which every statement 
may be relied upon as a matter of fact, being given, as 
nearly as possible, in her own simple words. 

She was born of pious, but poor parents, in the West 
of England, had been early taught to read the Scriptures, 
and had committed to memory many of Dr. Watts' hymns 
and his catechisms. For this blessing she ever expressed 
the warmest gratitude to God, after the affliction which 
deprived her of sight at the age of thirteen. For some 
time she contrived to write a journal with her own hand. 
Her spelling was defective, but the letters were better 
formed, and the lines more uniform, than those not observant 
of the ingenuity of the blind would suppose possible. A 
few extracts will convey the state of her mind. 

" The Lord has deprived me of sight to read his blessed 
word, but I bless him that he continued it to me so long ; 
and above all, that he has given me a glimmering of spirit- 
ual sight, which is far better. AVhen I had bodily sight, I 
was too apt to think it my own, but it was a horroived fa- 
vor. I suffer much pain, but if I have a minute's ease, I 
will ascribe it to the goodness of the Lord." 

Betsey's loss of sight was attended with extreme pain ; 
and during the first year of her blindness, she describes 
herself as "blind, both in body and soul." She remarks, 
**I knew nothing of divine things, till it pleased God to send 
a seizure in my knee : the pain was very great, so that I had 



2 BLIND BETSEY. 

no rest by night or by day. Then the Lord began to work 
upon my mind with terror. I thought I might be taken off 
suddenly, and having no hope, I knew that I must then be 
for ever miserable : I had hell in my conscience." '' I prayed, 
* Lord, be merciful to me a sinner. Oh what must I do to 
be saved?'" 

She was tempted to fear it was too late for her to seek 
pardon, till a few days afterwards a friend read to her the 
I7th chapter of John. She says, " Every word came to my 
soul quick and powerful as a two-edged sword. My soul 
was then set at liberty, though my sins were numberless as 
the sands upon the sea-shore. Jesus has washed them all 
in his precious blood. Eternity was no longer dreadful. I 
saw Jesus was my Saviour. Satan, that busy enemy, re- 
newed his suggestions, but I was enabled to prostrate my- 
self at the foot of the cross, and he fled from me. ' The 
blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin.' 

' His name, and love, and gracious words, 
Have fixed my roving heart.' " 

Soon after this period she writes, " Though I cannot see 
to read a word in the hook, yet sometimes I have such sweet 
texts of Scripture come to my mind, as though spoken to 
me with power, that it bears my burden up. Those Chris- 
tians who are blessed with bodily sight, cannot sufficiently 
prize the privilege. When they are burdened, they can go 
and look to the blessed word of God : let them praise God 
for it, and I will praise God that he applies his own words 
to my soul, though he has taken my sight." 

She attached great value to the word of God, always 
requesting her friends who visited her, to read to her some 
portion of that " golden treasury," and uttering most earnest- 
ly her desire that they would not neglect to peruse it for 
themselves ; adding, " Oh, I would give all I possess, or ever 
shall possess in this world, for one half hour s sight, to read 
part of that blessed book myself!" 

She remarks in her diary, " My pain is very great, but 
I can rejoice in my pain, and bless God for my affliction. 



BLIND BETSEY. 3 

If I had a thousand souls, and a thousand bodies, I would 
give up all to the hands of my Lord, to do with them as he 
pleases." 

When she was about fifteen years old, she was again 
permitted to attend public worship. Her knee gave her 
great pain, but with much difficulty she walked to the house 
of God ; this being the time when she first publicly avowed 
herself to be a disciple of Christ. Her lovely expression 
of countenance will never be forgotten ; she looked like one 
whose heart, as well as eyes, were closed upon the world. 

Some time afterwards she wrote in her diary, " In my 
first setting out on my heavenly journey, I was kept in the 
golden path : I little thought what hard conflicts I should 
have with my wicked heart and the temptations of Satan, 
that busy enemy of my soul. I fear lest I should grieve 
my dear Redeemer, but I will pray to the Lord for grace 
to withstand all the temptations of the adversary." 

Her sufferings were more severe than language can de- 
scribe ; but she says, *' Though the Lord hath allotted me a 
thorny path, he gives me strength equal to my day ; there- 
fore will I rejoice in my affliction. Sometimes, when I have 
been in company with the people of God, I have longed to 
tell them what God has done for my soul, but Satan has 
silenced me ; he suggests that I have been speaking peace 
to my soul, and tells me it is all a delusion. Constantly 
should I strive against this enemy, lest he should get my soul 
into prison, then all would be darlcT 

After three years' endurance of most acute pain in her 
knee, a suppuration took place, followed by mortification, 
which brought this poor girl apparently to the brink of the 
grave. Caustics were applied daily, and it was thought 
nature could not support the abundant discharge. In 
speaking of this memorable period, she says, " I then felt a 
little of the sting of death, and stood shivering on the brink ; 
yet I could rejoice under all my affliction, because the Lord 
Jesus was precious to my soul, and I was enabled to cast 
my burden upon him." 

About ten months after this period she had a siniilar 



4 BLIND BETSEY. 

attack in the other knee, which threatened the same prog- 
ress of disease, and of as long continuance. It was sug- 
gested by her medical attendant, that amputation would be 
the most probable means of continuing her life: she listened 
with humble desire to know the will of God, and was able 
to look to the painful operation even with comfort ; for she 
says, " The Lord strengthened me, and made me feel his 
strength in my weakness." On the day she was removed 
to the hospital, she says, "I felt myself happy ; it did not 
belong to me to murmur, since the Lord had laid it upon me. 
He has said, ' Fear not, for I am with thee ; I will sustain 
thee.' I left all in my Lord's hands. The world was then 
nothing to me ; and when carried into the surgical room, I 
felt no wish either to live or die. The Lord carried me 
through, and supported me under the operation in a won- 
derful manner." On this painful occasion not a groan es- 
caped her lips — scarcely a sigh ; and when the operators 
whispered, " She does not feel," she calmly rephed, " I 
feel, but I have supports you know nothing of." 

A young student in the hospital saw and was deeply 
affected by her great serenity ; he afterwards took every 
opportunity of visiting her bedside while she remained there. 
She felt great interest in him, and prayed earnestly that 
God would give him that light which he needed, to show 
him who made he?' to differ, and wherein that difference 
consisted. She said she ''never felt her heart so much 
engaged in prayer for another." And what encouragement 
is there to fervent prayer. The young man died before her, 
but left a testimony of the blessed effects of this blind girl's 
conversation and example, to which he owed, under the 
blessing of God, his salvation. 

The following extract from Betsey's diary, is almost the 
last written by her own hand. Subsequently to this, in 
consequence of losing the use of her right arm after six 
years' painful illness, she engaged some kind friend as her 
amanuensis. " I have not known what it is to be one day 
free from pain, but I can praise my blessed Lord for all my 
psin. ' All things work together for good to them that love 



BLIND BETSEY. 



God.' I trust lie has given me to love him. Therefore 
I trust all things will work together for my good and his 
glory. I have lost my sight, lost one of my legs and the 
use of the other, and am in great pain by night and day ; 
weak in body, and given over by the physicians ; yet all 
is for my good. I wish to lie passive in the Lord's hands, 
and know no will but his. I want to lose my wicked heart, 
and to depart and be for ever with the Lord ; but his time 
is the best time. I find that the temptations of Satan and 
my own wicked heart sometimes threaten to overcome me. 
I have many doubts and fears. I am the vilest of the vile, 
and can cry out with the publican, ' Lord, be merciful to me 
a sinner.' Yet I hope, through the blood of Jesus, I shall 
at last breathe my soul into his bosom, and, dying, clasp 
him in my arms, the antidote of death." 

She was, however, continued nine years lonofer in this 
world of suffering, in mercy to many souls, who date the 
com.mencement of their religious course to her bright example 
of patient endurance, nay, even joyful reception of her 
Father's rod ; while many, very many, have had their faith 
and love strengthened by communion with this afHicted child 
of God. 

In the ninth year of her protracted illness she says, " I 
have lately been brought through a very painful operation 
in the taking out of my right eye, and the Lord is in infinite 
loving-kindness heating the furnace still hotter. My knee 
is in a very dangerous state, and I am again ordered to the 
hospital. What the Lord is about to do with me I know 
not, but my times are in his hands ; he is a present help in 
every time of need, and a stronghold in the day of trouble. 
Christ the Rock is my refuge in every storm of affliction ; 
my shield, my hiding-place in every temptation ; my strength, 
my strong hold, my high tower, my defence, when the bil- 
lows roll around. Jesus, the good Pilot, in his own time, 
will conduct the little bark safe into the heavenly port, and 
not a wave of trouble shall again cross my peaceful breast ; 
there I shall praise Jesus without interruption, and join with 
all the heavenly host to sing the wonders of his love. While 

VOL. VIII. 12 



6 BLIND BETSEY. 

I am in this body of sin and death, my treacherous heart 
and the great enemy of souls interrupt me in my best ser- 
vices, and I cast many a wishful eye and longing heart to 
the heavenly Canaan, to see my dear Redeemer, and drop 
this clog of clay." 

At another time she remarks, " I find the promises to be 
my meat and drink, my comfort in every trial ; upon them 
I can rest, and feel steady reliance upon the Lord Jesus, 
though I am the vilest of the vile. 

" I thought to have joined the triumphant song before 
this time, but I am still called to experience wearisome 
nights and days ; a few months ago I expected I was just 
about to enter the heavenly harbor. In the nearest view of 
eternity, my soul was fixed upon Jesus, the Rock of ages ; 
I looked for death as for a chariot to convey me to glory, 
to occupy my heavenly mansion, to see my dear Saviour in 
his full beauty, and to have done with sin and every care ; 
but the Lord in infinite wisdom keeps me a little longer in 
this vale of tears. His ways are hidden in the deep, and 
^ast finding out; but he governs the armies of heaven and 
of earth by the counsel of his own will. The Lord has 
taken the use of my limbs, one after another : let him take 
what he pleases. I will praise his name." 

Truly did she realize the fulfilment of the promise, " As 
thy days, so shall thy strength be," which such passages as 
the following Avill prove. " I find, daily, fresh supplies of 
bodily pain ; but, blessed be the name of the Lord, I find him 
a present help, and I can leave myself in his hands, to do as 
seemeth him good. I am still called to endure much pain, 
but my Father, who aflSicts me with one hand, upholds me 
with the other. I have for some time been kept in a humble, 
steady rehance upon the Lord Jesus. I find the prospect 
of heaven a heaven worth suffering for ; and surely the po5- 
session of heaven is a heaven worth waiting for : yet a little 
time, and he will come, and will not tarry. I shall see my 
soul's delight in his full beauty ; yet I trust I can say, ' all 
the days of my appointed time will I wait till my change 
come.' 



BLIND BETSEY. 7 

" I am daily waiting till the Lord shall please to stretch 
out his alroighty hand, and break the vital string, which I 
believe shall be my unspeakable gain. ' Though I walk 
through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no 
evil.' I trust he will make the waters of Jordan shallow, 
and give me an abundant entrance into the joy of my Lord. 

" Though my bodily pain daily increases, yet I find my 
Jesus is strength in weakness, light in darkness, and his 
smiles sweeten every cross. My life is as a stormy winter, 
one tempest following another makes the cottage shake ; the 
winter of my life will pass away, and my eternal summer 
soon dawn. The breaches cheerfully foretell this tabernacle 
must soon fall. I rejoice to feel it dissolving, for I have 'a 
building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in 
the heavens.' My heavenly Father entwines the string of 
love around the rod with which he afflicts me. The heavier 
the rod falls, the more stripes of joy come with it. I know 
that all will work the peaceable fruits of righteousness." 

In the midst of this delightful assurance, she was kept 
humble, and often mourned over the corruption of her 
treacherous heart. She said, " Sin is more and more my 
burden ; I abhor myself in dust and ashes, and admire the 
rich free grace that plucked me from the jaws of hell. It 
is all of grace. I must sing the highest notes of praise to 
Him who hath washed me in his own blood. I am lost in 
wonder at the love of God to wretched me." 

She was alive to the best interests of her friends, and 
would most affectionately express that interest, always di- 
recting them to the inexhaustible fulness treasured up in 
Jesus Christ. 

A Christian who frequently visited her,, remarks, that on 
inquiring after her health, Betsey would often reply, " I am 
on the brink of the river, waiting for some kind angel to 
take me to possess my glorious inheritance. I am like a 
castle built upon a rock, the waves may beat against it, but 
cannot reach its top. I neither fear men nor devils ; I shall 
soon be where the wicked cease from troubling." 

And to the same friend, in her last illness, she said, " I 



8 BLIND BETSEV. 

feel so serene in my soul, such confidence in the God of my 
salvation, that I think this will be the last conflict. It is as 
though I walked not by faith noio, but by sight ; that prom- 
ise I can more fully comprehend than I ever did, ' They that 
trust in the Lord shall be as Mount Zion, w^iich cannot be 
removed, but abideth for ever.' " 

At another time she said, " I am quite resigned to my 
Father's will. I would willingly stay, if I might be made 
useful only to one soul." 

After expressing to this friend the great increase of pain 
which she endured, she said, *'But I cannot tell you what 
I have felt in my soul, or what glorious views I have had, 
by faith, of a crucified Redeemer. I have viewed him in 
the garden of Gethsemane, sweating great drops of blood. 
By faith I view him on the cross, his open side, his crown 
of thorns." When in the agonies of death, and expecting 
that she was entering the valley, she exclaimed with good 
old Simeon, " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in 
peace. Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly." And towards 
morning she said, "■ The Master calleth, and my lamp is 
trimmed. I am quite ready." 

On the Sabbath morning before her death, when her 
friend entered the room, she exclaimed with a loud voice, 
" Happy, happy, happy. Precious Jesus. I see him face 
to face. I have glory in my soul. Can you hear ? My 
Jesus is precious. I have seen thousands of angels around 
the throne. Glory, glory !" This was her repeated theme 
from Saturday night, eleven o'clock, until Monday morning 
at one. She then took a little rest, and the last words she 
was heard to say, were, those which she had so often sound- 
ed in the ears of her friends, ** Jesus is precious." 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



rVo. 367. 

"I AM AN INFIDEL!" 

AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 




Henry, the subject of the folluwing^ strictly authentic 
narrative, possessed from childhood an active and enterpris- 
ing mind. In his early youth he perceived that the self-de- 
nying precepts of the Gospel forbade his pursuing that course 
which had been marked out for him by an unchastened am- 
bition. To get rid of this embarrassment, he had recourse 
to the doctrine of universal salvation ; but being convinc- 
ed, upon a careful examination, that the Bible furnished no 
support to his new religion, he rejected the unaccommodating 
book as a system of i:)riestcraft, and adopted the sentiments 
of David Hume. 

Henry was of an amiable temper ; and though he had 
got rid of the restraints imposed by a belief in revelation, 
and wholly neglected the institutions of Christianity, he still 
retained, to a considerable extent, that outward morality 
which forms one of the distinct folds in the accustomed dra- 
pery of the Christian religion. 

In 1826 he had nearly finished his preparation for the 
bar, and had gone to reside in the lamily of a pious lady in 
VOL. VIII. 1*2* 



2 I AM AN INFIDEL. 

the village of , whose husband was absent from home. 

Though there was a powerful revival of rehgion in that 
place, Henry had kept himself aloof from what he consid- 
ered a foolish and needless excitement. On the 6th of De- 
cember he was induced, by a sense of pohteness, to accom- 
pany the lady with whom he boarded and a female friend 
of hers, residinor in the familv, to an evenins: lecture. He 
went to this meeting, as he afterwards acknowledged, with 
a full determination of keeping his mind engrossed with 
worldly thoughts ; and he succeeded so well, that, on his 
return home, he had no distinct recollection of what had 
been advanced by the preacher. 

After supper, the ladies whom he had accompanied to 
the house of God, left him in the sitting-room, and retired 
to a closet in a distant part of the house, to spend a short 
season in prayer for the salvation of their careless boarder. 
They had not been long engaged in pleading at the throne 
of grace, when they were interrupted by a loud cry of dis- 
tress from the sitting-room. On repairing thither, they found 
the family Bible open upon the table, and the late thought- 
less Henry standing upon his feet, with strong marks of dis- 
tress upon his countenance. To the question, What is the 
matter? he answered, "I cannot tell, but I entreat you to 
pray for me I" This answer had scarcely passed his lips, 
when his heavinsr bosom o-ave vent to its accumulatino- an- 
guish in heart-rending expressions of despair, which his agi- 
tated frame seemed scarcely capable of sustaining. Henry 
now saw plainly that his Universalism and infidelity were 
alike refuges of lies, under which he had taken shelter to 
screen himself from the reproaches of a guilty conscience, 
and believed that God was driving him from them by the 
power of his Spirit, not for the sake of having merc}^ but 
to make him a monument of his righteous displeasure, and 
hold him up as a warning to those who should afterwards 
Hve ungodly. 

About twelve o'clock at night he requested that some 
of his companions might be sent for, that they, seeing his 
anguish, might avoid the hopeless abyss into which he con- 
ceived himself to have fallen. At two in the morning the 
writer was called from his bed to visit him. Upon enter- 
ing the apartment I found him upon his knees, not indeed 
attempting to pray, but giving vent to the anguish of a 



I AM AX INFIDEL. 3 

broken spirit. I inquired of him about the state of his mind, 
but only received for answer, " I am an Infidel — / have 
denied the only Saviour, and am now given up of God to eat 
the fruit of my own doings /" His whole soul was immersed 
in agony, while the shiverings of a strange unearthly horror, 
which ran througii his manly frame, had so prostrated his 
muscular powers that he was unable to stand, or even sit 
up without support. After giving him some instruction 
from the word of God, and praying for him, I left him under 
the^are of some judicious Christian fiiends. 

The next day was a Thanksgiving season through the 

state, and though it was a season of great gratitude in , 

it was also a season of deep distress with many, and of much 
agonizing prayer among the people of God. In the even- 
ing there was a meeting of religious inquiry, to which the 
despairing Henry, by the assistance of two fi-iends, repaired. 
Here I again endeavored to lead him to the Saviour of sin- 
ners ; but to every overture of mercy he would reply, " These 
2yrovisions were once for me;, hut I have rejected them. I have 
sinned away my day of grace — I am an Infidel !" In this 
state of mind he left the meeting, and continued to tremble 
under " a fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indigna- 
tion^^ from the 2^i'esence of the Almighty, until about eleven 
o'clock that evening, when his obdurate heart was broken 
BY THE Spirit of the Lord, and the heart-rending groans 
of the convicted infidel were exchanged for the joyful song 
of the believing saint. 

Henry's transition from the bitterness of a broken spirit 
to joy and peace in believing, was sudden ; but his joy, like 
the light which is shed upon the path of the just, was abid- 
ing, and will, we have reason to hope, grow stronger and 
stronger till the perfect day. 

If Henry's case may be considered a fair specimen of 
the effects of infidelity upon a mind enlightened by the 
Spirit of God here, where there is still room for repentance, 
what will be the condition of the infidel when eternity shall 
disclose all its awful realities to his view ? 

The freethinker often seems to consider his scepticism as 
a justification for all that he does amiss. As he resorts to 
this system to get rid of the strictness of the law of God, 
he endeavors to avail himself of the license given him by 
his adopted creed to quiet his conscience. When Christian 



4 I AM AN L\ FIDEL. 

friends would have him attend a preached Gospel, it is to 
him a satisfactory reply, " I am an Infidel !" When en- 
treated to break off from some immoral habit, his reply is, 
" I AM AN Infidel !" And when we would set before him 
the injury he is doing to the rising generation by withdraw- 
ing our youth from under the restraints of the Gospel, he 
meets us with the same self- satisfying justification, and 
gravely tells us that he is " an Infidel !" But what if his 
consoling doctrine should not prove true '? What if the Bible, 
after all, should be the word of God, as the Holy Spirit 
taught Henry to believe"? Will his having rejected the way 
of life then save him ? Infidelity can neither deliver from 
the guilt of sin, nor from the penalty of a righteous law. 
It may, indeed, blind the eyes for a time, and enable the 
sinner to vralk with a firmer step in the downward road. 
But this blindness must all pass away. If the Spirit of God 
does not remove it in this world, it will be dispelled by the 
light of his countenance in the world to come. 

It is easy for men, while immersed in the bustle of busi- 
ness, or running the giddy round of fashionable amusements, 
or listening to the pleasant song, to forget God, and put far 
off the evil day. It is easy for them, while sitting at a full 
board and joining in the pleasantries of the convivial circle, 
to silence the small voice of conscience by the recollection 
that they are infidels. But the bustle of business, and the 
giddy round of fashionable amusements, must be laid aside ; 
the song of pleasure must pass away ; the full board and 
convivial circle must depart. Death's awful bereavements 
must break up the dearest relationships of life : the largest 
possessions must be reduced to the hmits of the narrow 
house ; and even the repose of the grave must be broken by 
the noise of the heavens and the earth passing away ! 

Then, impenitent sinner, what will you do ? When the 
clarion of the Gospel shall be exchanged for the trumpet 
of the archangel, and the sceptre of mercy for the sword of 
justice ; when you shall stand upon a dissolving world, in 
the presence of a righteous God ; when the history of your 
life shall be unfolded, the book of God's law opened, and 
the offers of mercy rolled up and laid aside, will you be able 
to silence the reproaches of an awakened conscience, or still 
the throbbings of an aching heart, by exclaiming, " I am an 
Infidel?" 



No. «68. 

TO 



THE CONFIDENT, THE DIFFIDENT, 



THE CARELESS 



It is probable that every reader is included in one of 
these three classes, or at least may find something suitable 
to himself in these hints : he will be able to judge of this 
when he has seriously read the whole, 

TO THE CONFIDENT. 

To such I would say, I have no objection to confidence. 
The Bible spea]is of it as the believer's privilege. I have 
no objection to its rising to assurance, to full assurance ; to 
its even assuming this form at the very outset, and main- 
taining it to the end of the course ; inasmuch as it is the 
gracious design of God that his people should know that 
they have eternal life. And the case is quite conceivable, 
of so clear and simple a perception, and so strong and stead- 
fast a belief of the freeness and fulness of the grace of God 
in Christ being obtained from the very first, and continued 
ever afterward, as shall keep the believer in the scriptural 
enjoyment of unshaken confidence to the last. Nay, more ; 
whatever there may be in believers themselves to hinder its 
being uniformly realized, there is not only nothing in the 
word of God to prevent it, but every thing to warrant and 
produce it. It is not the fault of God, or of his Gospel, 
that it is not always thus. It is not that we are strait- 
ened in him, but in ourselves. It will be well for the con- 
fident, however, to attend to the three following simple 
inquiries. 



2 TO THE CONFIDENT, 

1. Are you sure your confidence is resting on the true 
foundation — on the genuine apostolic Gospel — the simple 
testimony of God concerning his Son ; on the finished work 
of Jesus, held forth in that testimony as the divinely ap- 
proved, and therefore only ground of acceptance for sinners ? 
Many, you must be well aware, have had confidence in 
error. See, then, that your foundation be right. This is 
the first concern. If this be wrong, all is wrong. Examine 
well the divine record, w^hich reveals the ground of hope 
with all simplicity, requiring only sincerity on the sinner's 
part to understand it ; and see that your confidence be 
founded in the truth. Then, supposing your conceptions 
of the Gospel to be according to the simplicity of apostolic 
statement, let me ask you, 

2. Is your confidence humble ? You may fancy it hardly 
necessary to ask such a question, after you have said that 
your confidence rests exclusively on the finished work of the 
Just One. Be it so. All I wish you to remember is, that 
if it really do rest there, it loill be humble ; and that the 
humble-minded character of your confidence is one of the 
evidences that this is indeed its foundation. There is such 
a thing as men's humbling themselves in words, with a con- 
scious self-elation at their humbling themselves so well ; 
professing to trust exclusively in the righteousness of Christ, 
but secretly, and unavo\vedly to themselves, confiding for 
salvation in their very zeal for the exclusion of their own 
righteousness ; in one word, " trusting in themselves that 
they are righteous, and despising others." Those who have 
been taught by the grace of God to build their hopes on the 
work of Christ alone, need to be on their guard against the 
encroachment of such a spirit. If the confidence they enjoy 
be genuine, they will, I repeat, hold it humbly ; with a deep 
and self-abasing consciousness that they owe their simple 
and cheering views of the Gospel not to themselves but to 
the Spirit of God, that they are debtors for every thing to 
sovereign mercy ; and with a melting tenderness of compas- 
sion and of prayer for all who are building on any other 



THE DIFFIDENT, AND THE CARELESS. 3 

foundation, or who may "go mourning without the sun." 
I ask, 

3, Is your confidence a holy confidence ? I mean, is it 
a confidence in union with practical religion ? Is it asso- 
ciated with " denying ungodliness and worldly lusts, and 
living soberly, righteously, and godly;" with ''cleansing 
yourself from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, and per- 
fecting holiness in the fear of God ?" If it be not — if it be 
connected with sin and w^orldliness, with conformity to the 
world — if not in the open indulgence of vice, yet in its vani- 
ties and follies, its gayeties and thoughtless pleasures — as 
if you thought religion, instead of consisting in the spiritual 
and holy influence of those divine truths of which the faith 
is intended "to deliver you from this present evil world," 
lay in the mere holding of a speculative opinion, the adop- 
tion of which brought with it the privilege of worldly in- 
dulgence — if such be the character of your confidence, such 
its earthly and secular associations and tendencies, you may 
call it by the scriptural designation of " the assurance of 
faith," but I say again, it is the assurance of presumption. 
The whole word of God disowns it. It is not a plant of 
grace, but a weed of corruption. It is not from heaven, but 
from hell ; not from the Spirit of light, but from the prince 
of darkness. Jesus "gave himself for our sins, that he 
might deliver us from this present evil world, according to 
the will of God and our Father" — "gave himself for us, 
that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto 
himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works." 

TO THE DIFFIDENT. 

To such I would say, let it be well considered, whence 
your want of confidence arises. So far from blaming diffi- 
dence, w^hen considered as meaning self-distrust or self- 
jealousy, I would apply to it the words of Solomon, 
" Blessed is the man that feareth ahvay." But there is a 
desponding diffidence, which wonders at the cheerful con- 
fidence of others, while it is itself the oflfspring of obscure 



4 TO THE CONFIDENT, 

conceptions, or unbelieving suspicions of the freeness and 
fulness of gospel grace. You may be looking too much to 
yourself, and too little to Christ. Let me remind you that 
the Gospel is the *' Gospel of peace ;" that it is "good tid- 
ings of great joy;" and that the communication of peace 
and joy must therefore be one of the very purposes of its 
proclamation to sinners. There is no presumption in a sin- 
ner's joy, when he '' rejoices in Christ Jesus, having no con- 
fidence in the flesh," when he "joys in God, through Jesus 
Christ, by whom he has received the reconciliation." The 
possession of such peace and joy is no more than the fulfil- 
ment of the very end of God in the mission and work of his 
Son. And how is it to be retained ? I answer, by stead- 
fast " looking unto Jesus." This is the only legitimate, and 
it is, in the nature of things, the only reasonable way to find 
and to keep it. When the mariner is overtaken by the per- 
ilous tempest, what imparts to his mind confidence and 
tranquillity ? Does he look forth at the fury of the raging 
storm, and, in order to enjoy peace and a sense of security, 
set himself to examine the state of his own feelings about 
it? No. He examines the tightness of his vessel, the 
firmness of its timbers, the completeness of its tackling, and 
its sea- worthy structure : he calls to mind the storms it has 
already weathered, the fearful seas which it has come 
through in safety. Thus should we do. We must find our 
peace, and security, and joy, in surveying the sufiiciency of 
the foundation on Avhich our hopes are built — not shifting 
sand, but solid rock — the foundation of which Jehovah him- 
self hath said, " Behold, I lay in Zion, for a foundation, a 
stone, a tried stone, a precious corner-stone, a sure founda- 
tion ; and he that belie veth on him shall not be ashamed." 
You will tell me, perhaps, that your affections are not 
as they ought to be : they are so cold, so dead, so inade- 
quate to the extent of your obligations and the merits and 
claims of their object, and altogether you are conscious of 
such failures, that — how can you have peace ? To such I 
would sav, witli all aft'ection. 



THE DIFFIDENT, AMD THE CARELESS. 5 

1. Remember, that the exercise of your affections to- 
wards Christ is not to he your justifying righteousness ; no, 
nor any part of it. It is not to be, in any degree whatever, 
the ground of your hope towards God. It is He who is 
the object of your faith and love, that constitutes that ground, 
even Christ himself, in his perfect righteousness and aton- 
ing blood. See, then, that you keep these things distinct ; 
for many have, perhaps unconsciously, confounded them, 
and, by confounding them, have been " led into darkness, 
and not into light." 

2. Although love to Christ is the effect and evidence of 
faith, so that there is no faith where there is no love, I hope 
you never will come to think of yourself, that you love him 
sufficiently — with a love at all adequate to his deserts, or 
to your own obligations ; for while you live on earth, this 
will never be true : and even in heaven itself, although your 
heart shall be as full of love as it can hold, yet, when meas- 
ured by the worthiness of. its object, even such love will 
ever be far beneath it ; for this worthiness is infinite, and 
the love which would be a suitable return for it would 
require to be exercised by an infinite mind : a created soul, 
however enlarged, and however holy, can never contain it. 
I trust, moreover, that you will never cease to fear lest 
your love should cool, exposed as it is, in this world, to so 
many chilling influences. The very fear of not loving arises 
from love, and from an impression of the high claims of its 
object; and this description of self-jealousy is included in 
the saying before cited, "Blessed is the man that feareth 
alwa}^" 

3. How is it that the affections are to be excited, and 
maintained in lively exercise, towards their objects ? How 
are they elevated and invigorated towards an earthly ob- 
ject ? Is it by sitting down to muse how you have felt in 
former times, or how you are feeling now ? No : it is by 
thinking of your friend ; by recollecting in your own mind, 
and recounting to others, his various excellences, every thing 
hi him and about him, that is fitted to attract, and fix, and 

VOL. VITI. 13 



6 TO THE CONFIDENT, 

strengthen attachment. So should it be in regard to your 
heavenly Friend. It is not by brooding over the state of 
your own mind and heart that your love to him is to be 
confirmed and animated : it is by "looking unto Jesus," by 
thinking of him, reading of him, speaking of him, praising 
him ; by dwelling on his love to you, rather than on yours 
to him ; and above all, let me say, by actively serving him, 
in all the duties of life. Your great error lies in making 
happy frames and feelings too much your object or aim. 
But " I am well persuaded that, speaking generally, they 
will be found to enjoy such frames most habitually, who 
think least about them. The true Avay to the possession of 
them is, not setting them up before us as the object to 
which our endeavors are to be directed, but living a life of 
operative faith upon the Son of God, resting with firmness 
and simplicity on his finished work, and under the influence 
of humble gratitude and love to his name, constantly and 
diligently doing his will, and promoting his glory." Fol- 
low this course, and " the joy of the Lord will be your 
strength." 

4. All our self-inquiry, if conducted on right principles, 
will lead us to Jesus. When you bring yourself to the test 
of God's law, and perceive and feel that, when tried by that 
standard, there is nothing for you but despair, what should 
be the eftect but to " shut you up " the more to him, as 
your only refuge and your onl}" hope ? And when you try 
yourself by the Bible description of the Christian character, 
and are still conscious — as who is not ? — of sad and multi- 
plied deficiencies, let this operate in two ways : let it 
deepen still more your humble impression of your need of 
his propitiatory blood and abounding mercy ; convincing 
you that even the character of the renewed nature, in any 
stage of its advancement, will never do for you to stand in 
before God : and let it impart to your mind a still livelier 
sense of the value of his name, as your plea at the throne 
of grace, for that divine influence which is needful, to en- 
lighten what is dark, to supply what is wantino-. to correct 



THE DIFFIDENT, AND THE CARELESS. 7 

what is erroneous, to purify what is corrupt, to spiritualize 
what is earthly, to elevate what is depressed, to invigorate 
what is weak, to confirm what is unstable, to keep you from 
temptation, and to deliver you from evil. And as to your 
experience, what is the use you should make of it ? Are 
you to trust in it ? No ; but only to draw from it encour- 
agement to return to the source from which it was derived. 
If it was legitimate and scriptural, that source was Christ. 
The Holy Spirit makes Christ the spring of all that he 
acknowledges as Christian experience ; and then, keeping 
the believing soul still to one point, makes that experience 
the attraction back to Christ. 

TO THE CARELESS. 

Some may read this Tract who are careless about their 
own interest in the important mattei*s of salvation and eter- 
nal life. I call them important. Who will dispute it? 
Their importance is unutterable. Yet, while every sound 
judgment assents to this, alas, with what listlessness they 
are generally regarded ! Men hear, and sometimes read, 
discussions about eternal life, as if it were a matter in which 
they had no personal concern. But let me beseech you, 
with affectionate solicitude, to recollect the solemn fact, a 
fact which you can neither gainsay nor alter, that you are 
in possession of an existence that is never to end ; and that 
the present life is the time for settling the question whether 
this eternal existence is to be to you an eternity of happi- 
ness or of woe. The very possibility of this alternative 
depending on your present transitory life, should make you 
serious and in earnest. Yet, are you not attending to and 
settling, every day, questions of this world's personal, do- 
mestic, commercial, and political economy, while you are 
leaving uninvestigated and undecided inquiries relative to 
that never-ending state on w^iich every instant you know 
not but you may enter ? To-morrow itself, on which you 
are reckoning as a part of your present life, may to you be 
a part not of time but of eternity — a fixed and immutable 



8 TO THE CONFIDENT, ETC. 

eternity. Are you, then, acting wisely ; are you acting 
consistently with that reason, which is your boasted dis- 
tinction from the brute creation ? 

Yet, while living thus, you may be professing to believe 
the Bible to be God's word. But if you really knew and 
believed the contents of this divine record, you could not 
remain as you are, careless about the eternal results which 
it brings before you, and of which it assures you with such 
equal fidelity of denunciation and promise. The question, 
who have and who have not eternal life, is a question de- 
cided in this book with the most unwavering explicitness. 
There is no uncertainty left hanging over it : " He that hath 
the Son, hath life ; and he that hath not the Son of God, 
hath not life." " The Father loveth the Son, and hath 
given all things into his hand. He that believeth on the Son, 
hath everlasting life ; he that believeth not the Son, shall 
not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him." "Ver- 
ily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he 
cannot see the kingdom of God." These declarations stand 
on record in this book. You cannot be wise in treating: 
them with lightness, till you have carefully examined and 
deliberately set aside, as proved to be futile, all the evidence 
of its divine original. They are interesting to all : they are 
interesting to you. Bring the question, the all-important 
question, home. Have I eternal life ? That you should 
have this life, is to you of infinite and everlasting moment : 
that you should knoiv that you have it, is essential to your 
highest happiness in time, as is its possession to your bless- 
edness in eternity. May God in mercy lead you to both 
the possession and the knowledge, by leading you to Christ. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IVo. 369. 

SHALL 1 COME 

TO 

THE LORD'S SUPPER? 



My dear Brother — According to your request I will 
endeavor, with all plainness, to answer the interesting in- 
quiry you proposed to me. "A pious young person," you 
inform me, ''hesitates about coming to the Lord's supper: 
how," you ask, "is he to be convinced that it is his duty 
and privilege to sit down at the Lord's table ?" 

Before proceeding to the subject you have laid before 
me, it is proper that I tell you in what sense I understand 
certain words you employ ; because if we disagree in these, 
it is not likely that what I shall say will prove satisfactory 
to you. 

In the first place, then, when you call this person "pi- 
ous,'' I suppose you mean, not merely that he is thoughtful, 
or seriously reflecting, or moral in the ordinary sense of the 
term, or even a professor of religion, but that he is one 
whose heart you have reason, in the judgment of charity, 
to believe has been changed by the grace of God. 

Again, you speak of communing as the "duty " of your 
friend ; and by this I presume you mean, it is an obligation 
immediately 2)ressing upon him. In a very important sense, 
indeed, it is the duty of all to whom the Gospel message 
is come, to partake of the holy supper, and no such person 
can decline this without incurring great guilt. But if he 
come otherwise than God has commanded, he offends. So 
awful is the condition of such a person ! If he partakes, he 
sins — if he does not, he sins. What, then, must he do ? 
There is but one way of safety for him. Let him immedi- 
ately " flee for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before 
him" in the Gospel. Let him repent and believe, and come 
to the table of the Lord. All these are alike duties, and 

VOL. viii. 13* 



2 SHALL 1 COME TO THE LORD'S SUPPER ? 

to neglect either is to violate a divine command. But they 
are to be done in the Gospel order ; repent and believe, 
and being baptized, commemorate the dying love of the Re- 
deemer. 

I. With this explanation before us, I will now endeavor 
to remove the doubts of your friend. And it seems to me, 
these will in a great measure be dissipated by a bare con- 
sideration of the nature of the ordinance. The Lord's sup- 
per is spiritual food, designed to sustain and invigorate 
sjDiiitual life, even as the symbols of bread and wine therein 
used, nourish and strengthen the body. Such, we believe, 
is the simple, scriptural character of this institution. Now, 
the question is, Who ought to sit down to this feast ; the 
friends, or the enemies of the Lord Jesus ? And when we 
mention these two classes of persons, we have enumerated 
all around us. For as it regards the cause of Christ, there 
is no such thing as neutrality : " they who are not for me," 
says he, " are against me." If we are not his friends, we 
must be his enemies. Which of these, then, are proper 
guests at the table of the Lord ? This is a question, we 
conceive, that admits of a ready answer. Certainly, we 
should expect, at the supper of the Lord, to behold none 
but the friends of the Lord ; and the absence of any of 
these ought to be as great a grief to us as the presence of 
his enemies. 

IL But who are the friends of Christ? The merely 
good men of the world ? No ; " for that which is highly 
esteemed among men, is abomination in the sight of God." 
All those who assent to the truth of the Gospel? No; 
" the devils believe and tremble." All those who profess to 
be his friends ? No ; for many shall say, in the last day, 
" we have eaten and drunk in thy presence," to whom the 
Lord will declare, " I know you not — depart from me." 
Who, then, are his friends ? We answer, all loho are not 
of the world. The Son of God came to this earth to estab- 
lish a holy kingdom on the foundation of his own " obedi- 
ence unto death," and by the sanctifying influences of his 
Spirit. Here, then, there is about us a " world which lieth 
in wickedness," and there is the kingdom of Christ. Now, 
have we so repented and believed in the Saviour, as to have 
separated ourselves from the world ? If so, then are we the 
willing subjects of Emmanuel's kingdom, and consequently, 



SHALI- I COME TO THE LORD'S SUPPER 1 3 

his friends. There can be but two sorts of people : all 
■who " are not of the Father, are of the Avorld." " A friend 
of the world is the enemy of God." 

III. There is another point of view in which this subject 
may be presented. " All are by nature dead in trespasses 
and sins," and therefore "walk according to the course of 
this world ;" but some have, by divine grace, been made 
*' alive unto God, through Jesus Christ our Lord," and these 
*' walk in newness of life." 

Now, as we would not give material food to a dead 
man — the very fact of his being dead would make this un- 
reasonable and useless — so ought we not to give spiritual 
food to those who are " dead in trespasses and sins, who 
Avalk according to the course of this world." Not having 
been made " alive unto God, through Jesus Christ our Lord," 
the "bread of God" could not profit them. As, then, 
natural food is for living men, so spiritual food — the Lord 
Jesus fed on by faith, in his supper — is for living souls, 
those who have been quickened by the Spirit of God from 
the death of "trespasses and sins," and who therefore 
*'walk with God." But only j^enitent believers " vxxlk with 
God ;" such, then, are they who have been made " alive 
unto God, through Jesus Christ our Lord." They are the 
children of God, through faith in Christ, and by the regen- 
erating operation of his Spirit. 

We have then arrived at the conclusion that all, without 
exception or limitation, all ivlio repent and believe, and are 
bajytized, and 07ily they, are fit subjects for the Lord's sup- 
per. Such persons are the true friends of Jesus, and there- 
fore have a place at his table ; they are the children of 
God, being born of his Spirit, and consequently, theirs is 
the " children's bread." 

IV. But here, perhaps, the inquirer may ask, " How 
may I know whether I am a penitent believer ? I fear I 
have never felt that ' godly sorrow which worketh repent- 
ance unto salvation ;' I fear I have never yet * believed on 
the Lord Jesus Christ in my heart unto righteousness.' " 
Is it thus with thee, reader ? Then put, we beseech thee, 
these few questions to thyself with earnest prayer for divine 
grace to enable thee to answer them aright. 

1. Has the Spirit of God ever " convinced thee of sin," 
so as to make thee see a loathsome pollution in all thou art. 



4 SHALL I COME TO THE LORD'S SUPPER 1 

and all thou doest ? It was this sense of personal deprav 
ity which caused the apostle to exclaim, " I know that in 
me, (that is, in my flesh,) dwelleth no good thing. O 
wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me from the 
body of this death?" 

2. Has a heartfelt consciousness of guilt, corruption, 
and ruin, led thee to Him who was " lifted up, that whoso- 
ever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal 
life?" 

3. While seeking the Lord in the way of his appoint- 
ment, private prayer, searching the Scriptures, listening to 
a preached Gospel, the conversation and prayers of pious 
people — whilst thus seeking the Lord, has his "secret — the 
great mystery of godliness — Christ crucified," been in some 
degree reA'ealed to thee, bringing light to thy mind, peace 
to thy conscience, and love to thy heart ? yea, such light, 
and peace, and love, as have caused thee, perhaps, at times 
to '' rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory ?" 

4. Do all things about thee — the men of the world, 
their character, and ways, and tendency, appear just as 
God's word describes them to be ? Have you discovered 
that the Lord has a people here ? And are these precious in 
your eyes ? Do you esteem them the excellent of the earth ? 
Do you prefer their fellowship and conversation ? Are you 
willing to cast in your lot with them, " choosing rather to 
suffer affliction with the people of God, than to enjoy the 
pleasures of sin for a season?" 

5. Do you "delight in the law of God after the in- 
ward man?" and is it your daily desire, and prayer, and 
endeavor, to '' deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to 
live soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present evil 
world?" And yet are you so sensible of your shortcom- 
ings, of the sins even of your most holy things, as to make 
" Christ crucified" your only hope ? 

6. Do you see in the salvation of the Gospel a method 
of redemption most glorious to the holy and merciful Sove- 
reio-n of heaven, and admirably adapted to a world of sin- 
ners ? Have you felt it to be exactly suited to your case ? 

Finally. Have you, at least, had any such sense of the 
things contained in the foregoing questions as has led you 
to hate sin and love holiness — and to wish that all around 
you might be brought to the same blessed experience ? 



SHALL I COME TO THE LORD'S SUPPER 1 5 

Certainly, reader, if it be thus ^Yith thee, thou art a 
Christian indeed; thou liast "the Spirit of Christ." He 
who loves the law, and the ways, and the people of God, 
must love God himself. And be assured, none do thus 
love God but those who exercise " repentance towards God, 
and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ," 

what mercy has the Lord then shown thee ! Whilst 
mi^ltitudes about thee are going on in blindness and sin, 
thou hast been " turned from darkness to light, and from 
the power of Satan unto God." How many are living 
" without Christ — having no hope, and without God in the 
world ;" but " God, who commanded the light to shine out 
of darkness, hath shined into thy heart, to give the light of 
the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus 
Christ!" Thou hast found "truth, the pearl of great 
price ;" peace, hope, hoHness, are thine ; andihere are sea- 
sons, perhaps, when thou canst rejoice in "the hope of 
glory." 

And shall " the Father of mercies" have done so much 
for thee, and thy heart not burn within thee ? Surely, 
gratitude must constrain thee to live no more to thyself, or 
to the world, but to "Him who loved thee and died for 
thee ;" gratitude must constrain thee to cast the full weight 
of thy influence into the scale on the Lord's side. Surely, 
thy full heart is ready to burst out with a saint of old, 
"What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits 
towards me ? I will take the cup of salvation, and call up- 
on the name of the Lord. I will pay my vows unto the 
Lord now, m the presence of all his p}eople.'' 

Y. Here, however, the serious inquirer may reply, " I 
trust that I truly repent of my sins, and believe on the 
Lord Jesus Christ, and that it is the sincere purpose of 
my heart to serve and please God in all my ways ; but I 
fear my repentance is not deep enough, my faith not strong 
enough for one who would sit down at the table of the 
Lord." Or he may say, "Even if my repentance and faith 
be of the most lively sort, still they have not yet sufficiently 
impressed my life ; 1 am not so eminently pious as it seems 
to me a communicant ought to be." 

Now, God forbid that Ave should say one word which 
might tend to diminish the longings of a pious heart after 
greater attainments in religion ; but do not such fears as 



6 SHALL I COME TO THE LORD'S SUPPER 1 

tliose we have just described, proceed from mistaken views 
of this ordinance ? It is designed for penitent behevers, 
and not merely for those who have attained to a large mea- 
sure of repentance and faith. Just as certain is it, that all 
who truly repent of their sins, and believe on the Lord Jesus 
Christ, however feeble those graces may be in them, ought 
to come to the Lord's supper, as it is that all i?npe7'rit€nt 
and unbelieving 2^crsons are unmeet guests. 

And in what part of the Bible do we find the acquisi- 
tion of an extraordinary degree of holiness required in a 
believer before he make this memorial of a Saviour's dying 
love ? 

Either Ave are impenitent and unbelieving, or we do 
repent and believe ; either we are worldly, or pious ; either 
we are in an unconverted state, or our hearts have been 
changed by divine grace ; either we are under the curse of 
a broken law, or we stand justified and accepted before God 
throuo^h faith in his Son ; either we are riohteous or wicked : 
in one word, either we are "without Christ," or "in him." 
In one or the other of these states we must be ; there is no 
such a thing as a half-way character, or half-way condition. 
O, there is an awful and, indelible line drawn in the word of 
truth between the whole of mankind ! The new birth is 
that line. On the one side are " the children of this world," 
on the other "the children of God." 

Now, if ive are among the first class, then to come to 
the Lord's supper is solemn mockery of God, because we 
thereby profess ourselves to be what we really are not — his 
friends. But if we belong to the latter company, then, 
though we may be mere " babes in Christ," "less than the 
least of all saints," still, we are believers — we are the peo- 
ple of the Lord — we are " sanctified in Christ Jesus ;" and, 
blessed be his name, he invites us, though " in weakness, 
and fear, and much trembling" — he invites us to draw nigh 
and feed upon the " true bread, which cometh down from 
heaven." And to refuse this invitation, is to proclaim our- 
selves what indeed we are not — the enemies of Christ. 

VI. Sometimes, however, another fear may perplex the 
mind of the believer, and keep him back from the table of 
the Lord. He may complain, "I have not this or that 
Christian grace, and therefore dare not approach the holy 
communion." 



SHALL I COME TO THE LORD'S SUPPER? 7 

To this we reply, Thou art mistaken, O man ; and 
plainly " writest bitter things" against thyself. For as the 
worldly soul has not one "fruit of the Spirit," so every 
believer has them all in a greater or less degree. He may 
indeed be very deficient in some graces of the Spirit, yet 
he is not utterly destitute of any one of them. Hence, to 
say of the true believer, he is not penitent — or of the peni- 
tent, he has no humility — or of the humble-minded, he has 
no boldness in the Lord — or in general, to speak of the 
Christian as being devoid of any one grace, is a downright 
solecism in religion. Be assured, the "new creature in 
Christ" is a perfect man, though he may be feeble in many 
of his members. If we really have one of the graces of the 
Sjyirit in any degree, we have them all, though perhaps 
none eminently so. And it is just to nourish and invigorate 
the "new man" in the graces of the Spirit, that the Lord's 
supper Avas instituted. If, then, we feel humbly conscious 
of being weak in any particular grace, this, so far from 
keeping us back from the communion, ought to impel us 
forward. For it is at this ordinance, especially, we may 
hope to " grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord 
and Saviour Jesus Christ." 

To sum up the whole in a few words : the Lord's sup- 
per is " spiritual food" to cherish and strengthen spiritual 
life ; and the means whereby it is received is faith. Hence 
it was not provided exclusively for the strong in faith, but 
for all believers ; it is bread, not merely for " fathers, and 
the young," but for "little children" in Christ. And as we 
ought not to admit him to the table of the Lord who gives 
not good evidence of being born again of the Spirit, so we 
dare not repel the feeblest Christian. 

Vn. Here, however, it may not be improper to notice 
Avhat I believe to be a dangerous error, that has sometimes 
fallen in my way. It may be thus stated : A person who 
is not a penitent believer — who is not converted unto God — 
but who is anxious for his soul, and professes to be seeking 
the Lord — is advised to come to the communion, because it 
is means of grace. Is this right ? 

We answer decidedly. No. The Lord's supper is in- 
deed a means of grace, but it is spiritual food, and to offer 
spiritual food to a dead soul is something worse than folly. 
He who has not been by divine grace " made ahve unto 



8 SHALL I COME TO THE LORD'S SUPPER? 

God through Jesus Christ our Lord," is '' dead in trespasses 
and sins ;" or, in other words, he who is not a Christian, is 
impenitent and unbeheving : I know of no middle character 
between these two. Let such a man, then, repent and be- 
lieve, or else come not to the table of the Lord. Advise him 
to come to the Lord's supper ? why, this is to counsel the 
man to make the hypocritical profession of a friendship he 
never felt. So sure as there is any meaning in the Gospel, 
all impenitent and unbelieving persons are the enemies of the 
Lord Jesus Christ. 

VIIL One remark more, and I have done. It is a plain 
Scripture testimony, "If any man be in Christ, he is a new 
creature" — new in his dispositions, views, and objects — new 
in his spirit and conduct. Hence, what such a man once 
loved, he hates ; and w^hat he once hated, he loves. Now, 
it seems to me that a consideration of this Bible account of 
what a true believer in the Son of God is, will at once show 
us the inconsistency between the card-table, the ballroom, 
the theatre, the horserace, or any such amusement of the 
world, and a profession of religion. A pious man tvould 
not desire these things ; and he who can relish them gives 
fearful evidence that he is destitute of the Christian charac- 
ter. Such a person may have "a name to live," but, alas, 
is he not dead — "dead in trespasses and sins ?" 

Your friend in the bonds of the Gospel, b. p. a. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



]Vo. 270. 

A TRAVELLER 

AT 

THE END OF HER JOURNEY. 



BY EEV. RICHAED KNILL, 

OF ST. PETERSBURGH. 

Miss P., the interesting traveller whose short history is 
here given, was a native of a rural village in the principality 
of Wales. There she spent the early part of her life, and 
httle thought then, that she should visit other climes, and 
die in a foreign land. But so it came to pass, and in this 
w^ay I became acquainted with her. 

It was the unspeakable privilege of this young person 
to have a pious mother, whose godly life and scriptural in- 
structions produced deep and tender feelings on her youth- 
ful mind. Her mother prayed for her, and icith her, and 
regularly took her to the house of God. Happily for her, 
the preaching she attended was of the right kind, and deep- 
ened the impressions which were made at home. It was 
similar to that which the venerated Legh Richmond de- 
scribes : " It is simple, earnest, scriptural, plain, and inter- 
esting. The awful condition of a sinner in his natural state, 
aild the consolations and promises of a Saviour, are dwelt 
upon throughout their prayers and discourses." 0, were 
the walls of every place of worship to echo with the sound 
of such truths, what a glorious transformation would it pro- 
duce throughout Christendom, yea, throughout the world ! 

By these means her memory was well stored with hymns 
and portions of the Bible, and a grand outline of the way of 
salvation. Impressions thus made in early life are seldom 
entirely effaced. This I particularly noticed in the experi- 
ence of my departed friend ; and parents and preachers too 
may draw great encouragement from this thought, when 

VOL. VIII. 14 



2 A TRAVELLER AT THE 

they are endeavoring to lead the minds of the young to the 
knowledge of Christ. 

The first time I ever heard of Miss P. was on the 27th 
of May, 1831. Having accompanied a dear missionary 
brother to the grave of a departed saint, and been engaged 
with him in planning a school for a thickly populated neigh- 
borhood of poor children, as I returned home I found a note 
waiting for me, saj'ing, " Miss P., one of your congregation, 
is very desirous to see you. She is exceedingly ill, and 
hopes you w^ill come soon." The distance was five miles, 
and the next morning I walked over to her residence, I found 
her alone. Her countenance indicated that her continuance 
here would not be long. I said to her, A friend of yours 
has Avritten me a note requesting me to call and see you, 
and I have come. " Thank you," she replied, " I am glad 
to see you ; I hope you will be able to comfort me." 

She w^as lying on her bed, neatly dressed, and a black 
velvet pelisse, trimmed w^ith fur, w^as thrown loosely over 
her feet. The sight was very affecting. It seemed to say, 
" So Avill the black pall soon cover me, when I am laid in 
my coffin." 

I sat down by her bedside and entered into conversation, 
trying at the same time to recollect if I had ever seen her 
before ; but I could not trace the faintest recollection. Yet 
I thought I had seen the pelisse among my hearers at the 
chapel. I said to her, ''Pray, miss, do you know me ?" 

" yes," she replied, '' I know you very well ; I have 
seen you several times. Have you not seen me ?" 

I answered, " I think I have seen this pelisse, but I 
have no recollection of you." 

The tears started in her eyes — " Yes," said she, " I wore 
this pelisse when I was at chapel : it is not altered, but / 
am greatly altered. My illness has reduced me to a shad- 
ow, but the distress of my soul outweighs all my bodily 
pains." 

Just as she finished this sentence a lady entered the 
room. It was the amiable and benevolent friend to whom 
the house belonged, who I was happy to perceive was un- 



END OF HER JOURNEY. 3 

remitting in her attentions to the dying sufferer. This lady 
immediately began about the distressing state of Miss P.'s 
mind. ''I cannot account for it, sir," said she, *' nor would, 
you be able to account for it, if you knew her character — 
so kind, so religious, so affectionate, so obliging is she, that 
every body loves her. She is an angel ! I assure you it is 
a fact." 

''I have no reason to doubt your veracity, madam," I 
replied, " but I do think I can account for Miss P.'s distress. 
She wants something more than all you have mentioned in 
order to become happy." Then turning to Miss P., I said, 
" You hear Avhat your benevolent friend has said respecting 
you, and we will not attempt to disprove it for a moment — 
but tell me, is all this which the lady has mentioned suffi- 
cient for you to rest upon, when you shall stand before the 
judgment-seat of Christ?" 

" no," she replied. 

''And suppose that you could command all the excel- 
lences of all the good people in the world, would all this 
together be a sure foundation on which you could venture 
the salvation of your soul ?" 

"No," she again replied; ''all this Avould be of no 
avail to me." 

" Then your friend has mistaken your case. Pray, how 
do you think a sinner can be saved ?" 

" Ah," said she, " there is only one way, and that is not 
by works of righteousness which we have done, but through 
faith in the merits of our Lord Jesus Christ." 

I rejoiced in this testimony from her dying lips. It gave 
me great encouragement to hope that her soul would not 
remain long in darkness, and it afforded me a fair opportu- 
nity for explaining to the lady what the Scriptures say re- 
specting the " only name under heaven given among men, 
whereby we must be saved." 

After this the lady read a chapter, and we engaged in 
prayer. I then pointed out several parts of the Bible which 
I wished to have read to Miss P., as her strength would 
bear it ; and after a few other observations took my leave. 



4 A TRAVELLER AT THE 

Never had I been received or treated with greater kind- 
ness. 

It is scarcely possible to witness any thing more solemn 
or instructive than a death-bed scene. how it discovers 
the vanity of all earthly things, when we behold a fellow- 
creature panting for life — struggling with death — crying for 
mercy — calling on the long-neglected Saviour, and saying, 
** could I but obtain the assurance of his love, then would 
I shout, * death, where is thy sting ? grave, where is thy 
victory ?' " On retiring from a scene like this, and consid- 
ering how many there are who never think of their souls 
and eternit}^ who would not breathe out the prayer of the 
patriarch, " that they were wise, that they understood 
this, that they would consider their latter end ?" Such were 
frequently my impressions when returning from the dying 
bed of this young woman, and such, I trust, will be the im- 
pressions of many who read these lines. 

The distance of my house, and other circumstances, 
would not permit me to renew my visits every day, but I soon 
endeavored to make a second call. On entering the room 
she looked at me with an anxious countenance, and said, 
" Ah, I have no peace — my soul can take no comfort — my 
burden is heavier than I can bear — I am greatly distressed." 

I spoke of the Saviour. 

"Yes," she replied, "it is very true — I know it all — 
but, my unbelief, this is my burden. I cannot take hold of 
the encouragement. I want to come to Christ, but cannot. 

this hard, this wicked heart. Pray for me, I beseech you." 

" I will attend to your request," I said ; " but compose 
your mind. Tell me a little about your history. We are 
strangers to each other, and it is desirable that I should 
know something of the disease, in order to apply the remedy." 

She then began and told me of her birthplace, and early 
religious impressions, and the advantages she had enjoyed, 
and added, " When I was young, my dear and pious mother 
died ; my father had previously been taken from me, and 
when my parents were gone I was left to my own discretion. 

1 had nothino- of a worldlv nature to detain me at home, and 



END OF HER JOURNEY. 5 

knowing that I had relatives in this country, I resolved to 
be with them; and hither I came. Here I have received 
great kindness ; indeed I have had every thing that earth 
could give ; hut I have not been happy. O no ; I have not 
been happy. I knew too much of my Bible to be happy. 
I had heard and seen too much of religion to be happy. I 
felt the vanity of the world even when I was most occupied 
in it. I cut myself off from religious privileges, and it has 
made me miserable." 

" How have you spent your time since you have been 
here?" 

'' I have been chiefly engaged in travelling, either in this 
or in neighboring countries." 

"How have you spent your Sabbaths?" 

No answer but a gush of tears. 

"Have you frequently been to places of worship ?" 

" No, I have seldom been at a place where I could un- 
derstand the church language ; and since my return here I 
have been so completely occupied that I could only attend 
chapel about four times, and even when I was there it made 
me miserable. All that I heard seemed to be against me. 
The invitations and promises, as well as the threatenings, 
were as so many daggers in my breast ; and once when the 
Lord's supper was administered in my presence, it was like 
a thunderbolt to me. I thought I should have fainted." 

" Then the sum total of your history appears to be this : 
you were well instructed in divine things when at home, but 
since you have come hither you have slighted them ; yet 
you had too much light to be happy while you were thus 
neglecting the great salvation. ' wliat is a man profited, 
if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul:?' " 

" Ah, yes," said she, " that is it, and now I am miser- 
able." 

I replied, " It wovild be strange if you were not misera- 
ble ; but recollect it is a great mercy that your conscience is 
not seared as with a hot iron — that God has not said respect- 
ing you, ' Let her alone ' — that the Spirit, whom you have 
grieved, has not ceased to strive with vou. Yes, I consider 
yoL. viii. 14'' 



6 A TRAVELLER AT THE 

it a great mercy that your mind is so much ahve to the 
solemnity of your situation. You say you are miserable, 
and you know there is only one remedy for miserable sin- 
ners. Take that remedy. Embrace that Saviour. Flee to 
that refuge. Trust in the merits of that blood. Christ is 
the sinner's friend, and you have slighted him ; but now, even 
now, turn to him, believe in him, and you shall be saved !" 

A pause ensued. I left her to her own reflections. After 
a few minutes, which I could not doubt had been spent in 
meditation and prayer, I said to her, " Can you repeat any 
hymns Avhich refer to the atonement of Christ?" 

"Yes," she rephed, ** I can repeat many; I have just 
been teaching a beautiful one to Mary," — a sweet little girl 
who sat by her side. She then began it : 

" There is a fountain filled with blood, 

Drawn from Emmanuel's veins ; 
And sinners, plunged beneath that flood, 

Lose all their guilty stains. 
The dying thief rejoiced to see 

That fountain in his day ; 
And there would I, though vile as he. 

Wash all my sins away." 

At this her feelings overcame her, and she could pro- 
ceed no farther. 

After a few days I called again, and was happy to find 
her composed and tranquil ; trusting in her Redeemer to 
order the event of her sickness in mercy, and committing to 
him the interests of her soul for eternity. ''I hope," said 
she, " that I shall obtain mercy — that God will not cast me 
off" — that the Saviour will not reject me." 

" What leads you thus to hope ? Is it because you 
think you are better than you were before ?" 

*' No ; I am not looking to myself, but to the worjJ, the 
promise, and the oath of God, ' that we might have strong 
consolation who have fled for refuge to lay hold on the hope 
set before us, which hope we have as an anchor to the soul, 
both sure and steadfast.' " 

This visit was to me both edifying and comforting. We 



END OF HER JOURNEY. 7 

had much conversation, and that part which she took in it 
discovered the very interesting state of her mind. 

Among other things, she said, in a most solemn manner, 
" I have been looking back on my life, and I am mortified, 
and ashamed, and humbled at the review. what have I 
been doing ! How have I wasted my precious time ! . I 
have been grasping at shadows ! I have been feeding on 
husks ! A deceived heart has turned me aside." 

These words were spoken with much difficulty, in a low 
tone, and with long pauses between. 

She added, " I have been thinking of others also. The 
world is in a dangerous condition. I see it now. Yes — 
sacred things are almost universally, neglected. O could I 
but make my feeble voice heard, I would tell them all of 
their fearful condition. Will you, sir, warn them to flee 
from the Avrath to come ?" 

I replied, " I will do what I can, but I am afraid we 
shall obtain only a partial hearing. Men are too much en- 
grossed with worldly things. The chains of sin are too 
strong upon them. Sabbath occupations are too carnal, and 
sensual, and devilish. The ' god of this world ' hath bhnded 
the eyes and hardened the hearts of most men ; and what 
makes it the more alarming, is the fact, that they have no 
apprehension of their danger. But let us do what we can ; 
and above all, let us abound in prayer. Let us call down 
Omnipotence to oiu- help — for God can change the hardest 
heart. Let us pray." 

It gave me great delight to observe in Miss P. so much 
solicitude for the souls of her relatives ; for I believe this is 
an unequivocal sign of a right frame of heart. Where this 
feeling is prevalent, and genuine, the happy possessor of it 
may assure himself that he has the mind of Christ. May 
every one who reads this have no peace, nor joy, nor satis- 
faction in any thing, until he experiences this true love to 
God and man. 

More than four weeks had now passed since my first 
interview. A great change had passed on her countenance, 
and it was evident that the earthly house of her tabernacle 



,8 A TRAVELLER, ETC. 

would soon be dissolved ; but her intellect remained strong 
and clear, and a sweet calm gradually took possession of her 
breast. During the last day or two of her life she could 
not speak so as to be heard distinctly, but the third day 
before her spirit took its flight, she said to her friend, " I 
am going — the struggle will soon be over : I am happy — I 
am happy ;" and on the day six weeks after I first saw her, 
she was carried to her grave. 

Standing, as it were, by her side once more, I would 
close this history with a word of advice to those who attend 
the sick and dying. The greatest proof of love to your 
afflicted friends is, to act towards them with Christian fidel- 
ity. That is a false tejiderness which would lead a saint or 
a sinner to attempt to draw comfort from a blameless moral 
life ; and, alas, it is a bad sign that any should wish to 
administer such poor consolation. It is but too plain that 
their own views, both of sin and salvation, are very defective. 
Mr. Cecil mentions a case of this kind. He had been con- 
versing with an afflicted man about the evils of his conduct, 
when his wife interiTipted Mr. Cecil, by assuring him that 
her husband had been an excellent man. " Silence," said 
the dying penitent, "it is all true !" 

Something not unlike this took place at the dying bed 
of Miss P. Her friend and benefactress praised her, and 
wondered how one who had lived as she had done could 
now be distressed — but it would not do. A wounded spirit — 
a conscience burdened with guilt — rejects all such sup- 
port ! ye that stand around the dying bed, do not flatter. 
I must have a Saviour, or I am lost — a Redeemer, or I 
perish. Take away every false prop- — break down every 
refuge of lies — strip the sinner of everj^ self-righteous plea, 
and then pour in spiritual consolation. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



]\o. an 

PRAYER. 



BY THE REV. SETH WILLISTON 



The above title suggests a duty which ought to precede 
the reading of this paper. Pause, reader, pause and pray — 
pray for the blessing of God on this Tract. Without his 
blessing, it will promote the spirit of prayer neither in 
yourself nor others. 

A due examination of this duty will lead us to consider 
its obligation, its nature, its benefits, and the proper occasions 
for its performance. 

I. OBLIGATION TO PRAYER. 

The Scriptures clearly inculcate the duty of prayer. 

1. By precejJt. Of the repeated injunctions of the Old 
Testament, I shall introduce but this one : " Thus saith the 
Lord God, I will yet for this be inquired of by the house 
of Israel, to do it for them." Ezek. 36 : 37. God here 
expresses his purpose to bestow the blessings of his grace 
only in answer to the supplications of his people. The New 
Testament abounds with precepts requiring the performance 
of this duty. Christ urged it with great frequency and 
earnestness. He said, "Ask — seek — knock — watch and 
pray." "He spake a parable to this end, that men ought 
always to pray, and not to faint." Luke 11:9; 18:1; 
Matt. 26': 41. Paul, Peter, James, John, and Jude, who 
were employed by the Holy Ghost to write all the inspired 
epistles, did not one of them fail to inculcate the duty in 
question. Rom. 12 : 12 ; Ephes. 6:18; Phil. 4:6; Col. 

4 : 2 ; 1 Thess. 5:17; 1 Pet. 4:7; James 5:16; 1 John, 

5 : 14-16; Jude, verse 20. 



2 PRAYER. 

2. By example. Those who lived before the flood called 
on the name of the Lord. Gen. 4 : 26. Abraham, Isaac, 
and Jacob, are all described as men of prayer. Gen. 18 : 23- 
83; 24:63; 32: 9-32. Those illustrious decendants of 
theirs, whose names adorn the pages of sacred history — 
statesmen and monarchs, as well as priests and prophets — 
are all represented as men who had communion with God. 
What reader of the Old Testament history is ignorant of 
the fact, that a spirit of devotion marked the character of 
such men as Moses, Joshua, Samuel, David, Asa, Jehosha- 
phat, Hezekiah, Elijah, Ezra, Nehemiah, and Daniel ; and 
of such women as Hannah, Deborah, and Esther? 

The worthies of the New Testament, both male and 
female, are described as persons who conscientiously re- 
garded this duty. We know this was the case with Christ 
himself. He prayed much. To engage in this duty, he 
arose early and sat up late : he was known to continue all 
night in prayer to God. Mark 1:35; 0:46, 47; Luke 
6:12. 

3. The Scriptures inculcate this duty as universal. ''I 
will," said one who spake as he was moved by the Holy 
Ghost, ''that men pray everywhere." As we can never 
remove from under the dominion of the Most High, nor 
cease to need his merciful protection, we can never be freed 
either from the obligation or necessity of prayer. Daniel, 
residing at Babylon, the seat of a pagan empire, felt both. 
Nehemiah prayed at Shushan, as well as at Jerusalem ; Jo- 
nah, in the whale's belly ; and Paul and Silas, in the prison. 
This duty extends its claims to all classes of society— to 
men in secular life as well as those in the holy ministry ; to 
rulers as well as private citizens ; to the rich as well as the 
poor. None are so exalted as to be above, nor so depressed 
as to be below, either the obligation or privilege of prayer. 
The servant of Abraham prayed to the same God to' which 



PRAYER. 3 

his master prayed, and was equally accepted. From the 
claims of this duty no age nor condition in life is exempt. 
" Both young men and maidens, old men and children, let 
them praise the name of the Lord." The little child as well 
as the aged man, should kneel before the Lord his Maker. 
Psalm 148 : 12, 13 ; 1 Samuel, 1 : 28 ; Luke 2 : 49, 52. 

4. The Scriptures represent this duty as essential to 
Christian character. "Just and devout" — '' mvinof alms 
unto the people, and praying to God always," are joined 
together to constitute the character of the good man. Luke 
2 : 25 ; Acts 10 : 2. None are considered as giving more 
certain indications of a wicked heart than those who say, 
" What is the Almighty, that we should serve him ? and 
what profit shall we have, if we pray unto him ?" Job 
21 : 15. An immoral life is not a surer index of an un- 
sanctified heart, than a life without prayer. ISTor is it any 
more certain, that a renovation of heart will transform the 
immoral into a moral man, than that it will convert the 
prayerless into a praying man. "Behold, he prayeth," is 
the Scripture announcement of a sinner's conversion to 
God ; and a neglect of this duty is considered as furnishing 
sufficient proof of the unsoundness of any man's religion, 
however promising it once may have been. Acts 9 : 11 ; 
Job 21 : 10. 

II. THE NATURE OF PRAYER. 

Though the Scriptures thus inculcate the obligation to 
prayer, they are very far from approving every thing which 
bears the name. The Pharisees made long prayers, and yet 
to the holy Jesus no class of sinners were more offensive. 
Matt. 5 : 20 ; 6 : 5. It concerns us all to know what are 
the essential characteristics of that prayer which God will 
accept. The Scriptures represent it under a variety of 
phraseology, as " drawing near to God " — " speaking unto 
the Lord " — " declaring to him our ways " — " pouring out 



4 PRAYER. 

our heart before him " — " coming to the throne of grace," 
etc. Psalm 73 : 28 ; Gen. 18 : 27 ; Psalm 119 : 26 ; 62 : 8 ; 
Heb. 4 : 16. It has, by men uninspired, been well defined 
to be " the offering up of our desires to God, for things 
agreeable to his will." Without desires there can be no 
prayer, and none that is good except the desires be holy ; 
and these must be offered up to God. There may be 
prayer without the prostration of the body, or the moving 
of the hps, but not without the lifting up of the soul to 
God. Psalm 25 : 1. 

Prayer is the language of dependence. It is poverty and 
emptiness, coming to infinite fulness for supplies — ignorance, 
coming to wisdom for instruction and guidance — weakness, 
leaning on almighty strength — pollution, repairing to the 
fountain which is opened for sin and uncleanness — ^guilt, 
pleading, not for a repeal of the law, but for the forgiveness 
of sin through an infinite atonement. To be prepared to 
engage in this duty, we must be humble. The pride of our 
heart must be brought down, and the Lord alone exalted. 
We must have faith ; believing that God is, and that he is 
infinitely great and good ; both able and willing to answer 
prayer. Nor can we be prepared to pray unless we exer- 
cise repentance for sin ; for if we regard iniquity in our 
heart, the Lord will not hear us. 

A suhmisslve sjjirit is another requisite for prayer. The 
acceptableness of the duty is increased as much by the coi-- 
diality of our submission, as by the strength of our faith. 
In our Saviour's prayer in the garden of agony, his submis- 
sion, though wonderfully great, did not imply either the 
absence or weakness of his trust in God. Indeed, the 
graces of the Spirit, among which faith and submission hold 
a conspicuous place, do not seek each other's destruction ; 
on the contrary, they afford mutual aid in rendering prayer 
both more acceptable and prevalent. 



PRAYER. 5 

A forgiving sjnrit is not less essential to the duty, than 
faith and submission. On this point our divine Teacher is 
very exjDlicit : " When ye stand praying, forgive, if ye, have 
aught against any ; that your Father also, which is in heaven, 
may forgive you your trespasses." While we are in the 
attitude of prayer, pleading with God to forgive us, we 
must do the same towards our fellow-men from whom we 
have received injuries. 

As prayer includes tJianksgiving for favors received, a 
thankful sinrit is indispensable to a right performance of 
the duty. Isa. QQ : 2 ; Heb. 11:6; Psalm 66 : 18 ; Matt. 
26 : 39 ; Mark 11 : 25 ; Phil. 4 : 6. 

In prayer we have concern with each of the Persons of 
the Godhead. We address the Father, in the name of the 
Son, by the special aid of the Sjnrit. This is all spread be- 
fore us in one short verse : ''For through IIi?n we both have 
access by one Sjnrit unto the Father.'" Ephes. 2:18. The 
Son directs us to pray to the Father in his name. Should 
we forget this direction, and venture to go in our own name, 
our petitions will remain unanswered. It is equally necessary 
that we remember our dependence on the Holy Spirit, lest, 
by rejecting his proffered aid, and trusting in our own gifts, 
we incur the guilt, like Nadab and Abihu, of offering strange 
fire before the Lord. Rom. 8 : 26, 27 ; Jude 20 ; Lev. 10:1. 
Should our devotions be regulated by the best of forms, still, 
if the Spirit do not help oui' infirmities, we cannot pray. 

The matter of prayer is very cojdIous. There is no sin 
we commit, but it is to be confessed ; no mercy Ave need, 
for the body or the soul, for ourselves or others, but we are 
to ask it of God ; no favor received, for which we are not 
to render thanks ; no duty to be done, nor affliction to be 
borne, but we need help in it from God. " In every thing," 
said the apostle, '' by prayer and supplication, with thanks- 
giving, let your requests be made known unto God." Phil. 
VOL- viir, 15 



6 PRAYER. 

4 : 6. We are required to intercede for our children and 
relatives, our civil rulers and spiritual guides, for the church 
and the unbelieving world. Gen. 43 : 14 ; 25 : 21 ; 1 Tim. 
2 : 1-3 ; Psalm 122 : 6; Rom. 10 : 1. 

The burden of our petitions, however, should be for 
those blessings which are spiritual and enduring. Of six 
petitions in the Lord's prayer, only one relates to the 
things of the present life. These are a mere scaffolding, on 
which to stand while putting up an edifice that is to remain 
when the earth and the works thereof shall be burnt up. 

We should especially pray for the influences of the Holy 
Spirit, which our Lord has represented as comprehending 
all the good we need. Compare Matt. 7:11 with Luke 
11: 13. The atonement is already made ; the Scriptures 
are written ; the great blessing which now remains to be 
received, is the gift of the Spirit. If this gift be withheld, 
all other means will fail to effect the conversion of a single 
sinner. Until the Spirit be poured from on high, the earth 
will remain a moral wilderness. And when any part of it 
is chansred into a fruitful field, and become the Lord's vine- 
yard, it cannot retain its fruitfulness except by a continu- 
ance of this divine watering, which it needs, not once a 
year, but every moment. Isa. 32 : 15 ; 27:3. 

The Scriptures, as we have seen, encourage us to bring 
every thing into our prayers ; yet not into the same exer- 
cise. The prayers we find in them are adapted to existing 
circumstances. When Moses interceded for the children of 
Israel, whom the Lord had threatened to destroy, he adapted 
his petitions to the urgency of their case. When Solomon 
prayed at the first opening of the temple, his prayer was 
dedicatory. The Saviour's intercessory prayer, which he 
made with his disciples just as he was about to leave them, 
was peculiarly appropriate to that interesting occasion- 
Exodus 32 : 31, 32 ; 1 Kino-s, 8 ; John 17. 



PRAYER. 7 

The prayers of the Bible also abound with arguments. 
This is true of the prayers of Abraham, Jacob, Moses, 
Joshua, David, Jehoshaphat, Hezekiah, Nehemiah, Daniel, 
and also of the prayers of Christ. Gen. 18 : 23-33 ; 32 : 
9-12 ; Num. 14 : 13-19 ; Josh. 7:7-9; Psalm 25 : 11 ; 2 
Chron. 20 : 5-12 ; 2 Kings, 19 : 14-19; Neh. 1 ; Dan. 9 ; 
John 17. The Lord's prayer concludes with three strong 
arguments, or reasons, why the preceding petitions should 
be granted. These arguments are not selfish. They all 
honor God. We pray him to answer our requests, because 
the kingdom, whose advancement is sought, is his own ; 
the power to advance it is in his own hands ; and the glory 
will redound to his own great name for ever. The more 
perfectly we understand and love the character of God, and 
the great principles he has adopted for the government of 
his moral kingdom and the redemption of a fallen world, 
and the more fully we imbibe the spirit of his holy word, 
the better prepared we shall be to " order our cause before 
him, and fill our mouth with arguments." Job 23 : 4. 

The style of prayer demands consideration. This, when 
the exercise is extemporaneous, depends wholly on the per- 
son who leads. Rhetorical flourishes and bombastic ex- 
pressions never appear so improper as in this exercise. Let 
him who is speaking in prayer but keep in mind that he is 
dust and ashes, addressing the Lord of heaven and earth ; 
that he is a guilty sinner, pleading for pardon before the 
mercy-seat ; and let him at the same time possess the spirit 
of adoption, and it cannot fail to give solemnity, humility, 
and a childlike simplicity to his attitude, voice, and language. 
Violent gestures, a noisy utterance, and dictatorial and cen- 
sorious language, are utterly incompatible with the nature 
of this duty. Every thing calculated to give pain to devout 
worshippers, or diminish our awe of the divine Majesty, 
should be carefullv avoided. 



8 PRAYER. 

m. THE BENEFIT OF PRAYER. 

1. It honors God. It is a practical acknowledgment of 
his being, perfections, and providence, and of our entire 
dependence on him for all we possess. Those creatures of 
God who never repair to his mercy-seat to ask for needed 
favors or counsel, virtually deny his existence. By such he 
is not glorified. See Psalm 50: 23, with Mai. 3 : 13-15. 
Is it not evident to all, that God is honored by the praying, 
rather than by the prayerless man ; by tlie praying, rather 
than by the prayerless family ; and by a praying commu- 
nity, whether town, city, state, or kingdom, rather than by 
such as call not on his name ? 

2. Prayer 2^^'omotes both the sanctljication and enjoy- 
ment of those loho engage in the duty. That immediate 
converse we have with God when we pray, gives us uncom- 
monly clear views of his being and perfections ; and the 
acquaintance we form with ourselves, while on our knees 
before him, is the most thorough and useful. Hence, prayer 
greatly promotes repentance for sin. It also promotes faith 
in Christ ; for we present all our petitions in his worthy 
name. Here, also, we gain the most correct and impressive 
views of divine Providence, tranquillizing our troubled minds, 
and drawing forth our gratitude and praise. Nothing more 
powerfully excites benevolent feelings towards our fellow- 
men, enemies as well as friends, than to pray for them. 
Indeed prayer, considered as a means of cleansing the heart 
and improving the character, is of such importance that 
none can be prepared for heaven without it. 

Nor is it less essential to our enjoyment. " It is good 
for me to draw near unto God," said one who knew what 
nearness to God was. In prosperity no joy can be com- 
pared with this ; and nothing is like it to sweeten the bitter 
cup of affliction. " Is any among you afflicted," says an 
apostle, "let him pray." James 5 : 13. 



PRAYER. 9 

One would suppose that without prayer, as the means 
of relieving the troubled breast, the evils of the present 
life would be quite insupportable. " I wonder," said an 
aged saint, who had been speaking of the comforts he de- 
rived from prayer and meditation during the wakeful hours 
of night, " I wonder what those old people do for comfort, 
who have such sleepless hours, and yet have no God to 
think of or pray to." 

3. Prayer is 'p'^'^^alent with God. It is the key which 
unlocks the treasury of heaven. God has said to the chil- 
dren of men, "Ask, and ye shall receive." And again he 
has said, " Ye have not, because ye ask not." It is a most 
meagre and defective view of the benefit of prayer, that it 
consists merely in preparing the minds of those who pray 
to receive blessings. Has the Scripture said in vain, " The 
effectual fervent prayer of the righteous man availeth 
much?" James 5 : 16. See also Zech. 10 : 1 ; Luke 11 : 
13 ; Matt. 9:37, 38 ; 2 Thess. 3:1. If prayer has no 
influence in obtaining blessings, why does it include inter- 
cession ? The very object of this department of the duty 
is to help others ; and frequently, those who are absent, 
and know not that prayer is made for them. Do we not 
pray for the sick, to obtain for them the blessing of health ? 
Do not saints pray for sinners, to procure their conversion, 
rather than for the purpose of preparing themselves to en- 
joy it ? 2 Cor. 1:11; James 5 ; 15 ; Rom. 10 : 1. 

Prayer, unlike all other means, exerts its infiuence on 
God himself. Renouncing dependence on all created ob- 
jects, we say unto God, " Neither know we what to do, but 
our eyes are unto thee." 2 Chron. 20 : 12. That God 
views the prayers of his people as designed to exert an 
influence on himself, is made evident by his saying to 
Moses, when he was about to intercede for the idolatrous 
Israelites, " Let me alone." Exod. 32 : 10. 

VOL. VII!._ 15*' 



IQ PRAYER. 

That the prayers of the righteous are prevalent with God, 
appears also in the dispensations of his 2^rovidence and grace. 
The prayers of Jacob at Peniel were prevalent. The prayers 
of Moses and Joshua were also prevalent. So Avere the 
prayers of Hannah, Samuel, and David. The Scriptures of 
the Old Testament furnish many other instances of evident 
answers to prayer. See Gen. 32 ; Ps. 106 : 23 ; Josh. 10:12 

1 Sam. 1:27; T : 9-12 ; Ps. 18 : 6-50 ; 1 Kings, 18 : 36-45 

2 Chron. 14 : 9-15 ; 20 : 5-30 ; 32 : 20-23 ; Ezra 8 : 21, 31 
Neh. 1, 2 ; Dan. 9 : 21-23 ; Esther 4 : 16, compared with 
the subsequent parts of the book. The New Testament his- 
tory agrees with the Old in representing prayer as efficacious. 
The ceaseless prayers of the church delivered Peter from 
prison and from death. And surely that praying breath was 
not spent in vain, which called down such a mighty influ- 
ence, that in one day three thousand souls were turned from 
the power of Satan unto God. See Acts 1:14, with 2:41; 
12 : 5-17. To be the Hearer of prayer, is the memorial of 
Zion's God throughout all generations. Ps. 65:2. 

Could we have the history of the Christian church fully 
placed before us, it would furnish innumerable cases where 
fervent, united, and persevering prayer for the outpouring 
of the Spirit, has been answered in the bestowment of this 
greatest of all blessings. I well remember, many years 
ago, when revivals of religion were less frequent in this 
country, hearing a Christian pastor, who was watching for 
souls, express strong confidence that the Lord was about to 
pour out his Spirit on his people, assigning as his reason, 
that the Jacobs among them were w^restling. A few 
months after, on seeing him again, and inquiring, "Do 
your Jacobs continue to Avrestle ?" he replied, with an over- 
flowing heart, " The blessing has come." This case has 
nothing peculiar in it ; the chronicles of " the Israel of 
God" could furnish thousands of similar examples. 



PRAYER. II 

Who can tell what a multitude of the seed of God's 
people have been brought into the fold of Christ in answer 
to the prayers of their pious ixirents'^ The case of Moni- 
ca, the mother of Augustine, whose fervent and long-con- 
tinued prayers for her son were answered in his conversion 
and singular usefulness to the cause of truth, is well known 
in the history of the church. In a sketch, a few years 
since, of the hfe of an aged Christian in the state of Maine, 
it was particularly stated that he had been observed to pray 
much for his children, and his children's children, and more 
remote posterity ; not that they might abound in wealth, 
but in grace, and the comforts of the Holy Ghost. And 
when in a good old age he was gathered to his fathers, and 
was followed to the grave by an uncommon number of de- 
scendants, almost all of them who had come to mature 
years, appeared to be the humble disciples of Christ. 
Were every good man to write his own biography, there 
would be found in it many a record similar to that of the 
Psalmist : " Verily, God hath heard me ; he hath attended 
to the voice of my prayer." He Avould state, at such and 
such a time the Lord mercifully prepared my heart to pray ; 
and in such and such ways he made it manifest that he had 
caused his ear to hear. Psalm 66:19;10:1'7; 116:1, 
2. The devout man rests satisfied that the prayer which 
God requires, and which is dictated by his Spirit, is always 
acceptable to him, and that it invariably procures either 
the specific blessing sought, or something else which is pref- 
erable. 2 Cor. 12 : 7, a. 

Let it here be remembered, that the Scriptures do not 
speak of the exclusive acceptableness of the prayers of the 
righteous, with an intention to exempt the wicked from 
obligation to pray ; nor, indeed, to discourage them from 
attempting the duty ; but rather to make them feel the 
necessity of an inward and radical change to render their 



12 PRAYER. 

prayers, and all their other performances, pleasing to a 
holy God. As God commands all men everywhere to 
repent, so he commands all men everywhere to pray ; 
but he commands them to pray, "lifting up holy hands." 
Acts 17 : 30; 1 Tim. 2 : 8. Living without prayer, God 
may continue to 3^ou, for a time, the bounties of his provi- 
dence, but the light of his countenance you have not ; 
your sins are not forgiven, nor have you a single promise 
relating to the life to come. And those gifts which you 
have, without asking them of God, or giving him thanks 
for them, will soon be remanded, and then, if not before, 
you will be able to " discern between the righteous and the 
wicked ; between him that serveth God, and him that serv- 
eth him not." Mai. 3 : 18. 

IV. THE OCCASIONS FOR PRAYER. 

The apostle exhorts Christians to pray with " all prayer," 
that is, in all those ways which our various circumstances 
and relations in society may call for. Two, and even many 
of the humble disciples of Christ, may unite in the same 
prayer, and with " one accord" — in the same adorations, 
confessions, petitions, and ascriptions of praise. They will 
feel that they are all the same guilty creatures, coming to 
the same merciful Creator, and in the name of a common 
Mediator. Such prayer, whether it be pronounced with 
one mouth, or many using a common form, should unite 
the hearts of all. No one should imagine he has prayed, 
merely because he has heard another pray. It is a union 
of souls, not an assemblage of bodies, which gives strength 
to prayer. The Saviour taught his disciples that the agree- 
ment of two would augment its prevalence. Matt. 18 : 19. 
When Daniel had Nebuchadnezzar's dream with its inter- 
pretation to find out, he applied to three of his country- 
men, whom he knew to be men of prayer, to unite with 



PRAYER. 1 3 

him in desiring mercies of the God of heaven concerning 
this secret ; assuming the principle, that a union of hearts 
increases the prevalence of prayer. This is true, whether 
they whose hearts are united should form a meeting for 
social prayer, or should agree to present their common 
request in their respective closets. The most important 
branches of this duty are the following : 

1. Sanctuary 2'>rayer. ISTone can doubt that prayer is 
a proper exercise for the Lord's house. Christ called the 
temple "a house of prayer," and the appellation is with 
equal propriety applied to a Christian sanctuary. It is the 
King's business which is here transacted, and He claims to 
be consulted about it. Here the ordinances are adminis- 
tered, and the officers of the church solemnly consecrated ; 
and both these exercises are to be accompanied Avith prayer. 
Matt. 26 : 26, 2Y ; Acts 14 : 23. Here, also, the Gospel 
is preached, and it must be with the Holy Ghost sent down 
from heaven, or it will be without effect. And surely we 
cannot expect the descent of the blessed Spirit upon a 
prayerless assembly. See 2 Chron. 30 : 27 ; Ezra 9 : 4-15 ; 
Psalm 116 : 17-19 ; Matt. 11 : 25-30 ; Acts 6 : 4 ; 1 Cor. 
14 : 14-17; 1 Tim. 2 : 1. 

The prayers of the sanctuary are an interesting part of 
its services. They ought to embrace a greater number of 
objects than social prayer in general, but not to the exclu- 
sion of a special remembrance of the wants of the assem- 
bly. Prayer should not be substituted for preaching; it 
should ever be considered as an address to God, not to the 
people ; and yet the influence which is exerted on an as- 
sembly by a solemn and devout prayer, is often as direct 
and manifest as that exerted by preaching. 

2. Prayer -meetings. In such meetings, Christians are 
advantageously situated to strive together in their prayers 
to God, for the advancement of his kingdom. Such was 



14 PRAYER. 

the meeting held by the one hundred and twenty disciples 
in the upper room, before the great effusion of the Spirit 
on the day of Pentecost; and that also at the house of 
Mary, where many were gathered together to pray for the 
liberation of Peter. This class of meetings may be either 
ordinary, to ask for those blessings Avhich Ave always stand 
in need of, or extraordinary, to pray for some particular 
object, the importance of which is suggested by passing- 
events, 'Not being designed for those services which are 
peculiar to the pastor, they do not necessarily require his 
presence, or that of any of the officers of the church. But, 
if wholly composed of its officers — and is it not desirable 
that this should sometimes be the case ? — still, they would 
be prayer-meetings. Would we have these seasons of de- 
votion interesting and profitable, we must remember them 
beforehand, in our closets, and go to them with praying- 
hearts. Nor ought those to neglect this preparation who 
do not expect to lead in these exercises. Let a company of 
praying people come together in a prayerful frame, and 
they can hardly fail to have a profitable prayer-meeting. 
The reading of some short and pertinent passage from the 
Scriptures, or from some religious book or periodical, brief 
and well-adapted remarks or exhortations, and songs of 
praise, may help to quicken their devotions. When the 
meeting is more particularly intended for conference and 
discussion, as is doubtless sometimes desirable, a greater 
portion of the time may be occupied in reading and conver- 
siition. But whether it be called a conference, or a prayer- 
meeting, it ought ever to be sanctified by the spirit of de- 
votion, and the love of the truth. However lightly many 
may think of these unostentatious assemblies, they have 
been found almost indispensable to the Christian's growth 
in grace, and greatly instrumental in bringing forward and 
sustaining revivals of religion. 



PRAYEH. 15 

The montlily concert, observed on the first Monday of 
every month, is a prayer-meeting, and one of uncommon 
interest. It extends to all nations where the Christian re- 
ligion is embraced in its purity. It came into existence 
simultaneous!}^ with the missionary and other benevolent 
institutions of these latter days ; and when it is viewed in 
connection with the special eftbrts now making by the va- 
rious denominations of evangelical Christians, it may be 
considered as their united declaration, that they feel them- 
selves entirely dependent on God for success in all their 
attempts for the conversion of the world. Could we see 
this concert observed by greater numbers, and with a deep- 
er interest — could we have reason to believe that every 
Christian observed it, either in a social or a secret manner, 
presenting both prayers and pecuniary offerings, we should 
have ground for strong hopes of the near approach of mil- 
lennial glory. Some other days are also set apart by Chris- 
tians, to pray in concert for particular objects. That for 
Sabbath-schools is somewhat extensiv^ely observed, on the 
second Monday in the month. These, and numerous other 
objects, are of sufficient importance to draAv forth many of 
the prayers of Zion. 

3. Praijev among select friends. We read of Christ's 
praying with the twelve, and also of his selecting three of 
their number to go up with him into a mountain to pray. 
Luke ^ : 28. There is perhaps no social prayer so sweet as 
that which is made by a few select friends, who, concerning 
the things of the kingdom of God, are every way like- 
minded. In its freedom from restraint it resembles the 
devotions of the closet, and at the same time receives 
strength by a union of hearts ; and while it brings the wor- 
shippers near to God, it has a powerful influence in pro- 
moting among themselves what the apostolic benediction 
implores for all saints, '' The ronunyvion of the Holy Ghost.'* 



16 PRAYER. 

Under this head may be included those seasons of prayer 
which Christians sometimes do, and should oftener, connect 
with their social visits. An interview designed to be closed 
with prayer, will, on this very account, be rendered more 
edifying. Who has not been affected in reading the narra- 
tive of Paul's taking his leave of the Ephesian elders at 
Miletus, and of other friends on the shore at Tyre? In 
both these instances the parting prayer is to the pious reader 
the most affecting particular. Acts 20 : 36 ; 21:5. 

This kind of social prayer will include those seasons, 
either occasional or stated, Avhen a few Christian friends 
meet on purpose to unbosom the emotions of their hearts 
to each other, and to their heavenly Father. It is doubt- 
less entirely proper that meetings of this class should often 
be wholly composed oi females. When the Scriptures nar- 
rate the devout praises of Moses and the children of Israel 
at the Red Sea, they add that Miriam took a timbrel in her 
hand, and all the women went out after her. After Esther 
had given a charge to Mordecai to gather the Jews of Shu- 
shan to keep a fast, she adds, I also and my maidens will 
fast likewise. Exod. 15 : 20, 21 ; Esther 4, : 16. See also 
Judges 21 : 21 ; Luke 1 : 38-56. There are many pious 
females, Avho, without neglecting their domestic concerns, 
or withdrawing themselves from the public prayer-meetings, 
can devote an hour or two each week to a meeting of their 
own ; and there is reason to beheve that meetings of this 
description are at this moment exerting a very happy influ- 
ence in raising the tone of female piety, in promoting the 
charitable objects of the day, and in calling down the bless- 
ing of the Holy Spirit. 

4. Family ]irayer. All the families of the earth ought 
to call on the name of the Lord, and have reason to fear the 
pouring out of his fury upon them if they refuse to do it. 
Jer. 10: 25. No house should be without its family altar. 



PRAYER. 17 

Abraham, the father of all who have true faith, set us a 
worthy example : wherever he pitched his tent, he erected 
an altar, and called on the name of the Lord. Joshua 
resolved, "As for me and my house, we will serve the 
Lord." David worshipped in the sanctuary, and then 
returned to bless liis household. Gen. 12 : V, 8 ; 13:18; 
Joshua 24 : 15; 2 Samuel, 6 : 20. Our Saviour, whose 
example is law, observed this duty as far as his circum- 
stances in life permitted. He had no other family than his 
twelve disciples: with these he daily ate, travelled, and 
conversed ; and with these he prayed. By his praying 
sometimes with the whole number, and at other times with 
a part, has he not encouraged parents to adopt a similar 
practice in relation to their children? Luke 9 : 18 ; 11 : 1, 
with 9:28, and Matthew 26 : 36, 37. Every precept which 
requires parents religiously to educate their children, obliges 
them to the performance of this duty. To profess to bring 
them up "in the nurture and admonition of the Lord," and 
yet not pray Avith them — what can be more contradictory ? 

The spirit and order of family worship are of great im- 
portance. At the regular hours for its observance, parents, 
children, and domestics, should all be assembled in one 
place, and their business be discontinued, while the word of 
God is read, or his praises sung, and the throne of grace 
addressed. All should listen to the reading, and join in the 
other exercises. The greater the number of praying souls 
in the domestic circle, the more interest will it give to this 
exercise. When the father and the mother are both heirs 
of the grace of life, and live in character, their prayers will 
not be hindered, and may be expected to avail before God. 
1 Peter, 3 : 1-7. And when the children and servants 
become heirs of the same grace, that house may truly be 
called a Bethel, a house of prayer. 

It is to be res^retted that this service should ever be 

VOL. VIII. 16 



18 PRAYER. 

rendered tedious by long, formal, and inappropriate pray- 
ers. An understanding richly enlightened with divine truth, 
and a heart warmed with divine love, constitute the best 
preparation for the duty, and will render the exercise edify- 
ing, whether brief, or more protracted. The state of the 
family, the chapter which is read, or the hymn which is 
sung, may all suggest matter for the prayer. The family 
sins should be confessed, their mercies acknowledged, and 
their wants spread before the mercy-seat. All are to be 
prayed for collectively, and if circumstances call for it, indi- 
vidually. Such particularity arrests attention. In a family 
of the writer's acquaintance, a little girl at the age of eight 
appeared to become a subject of renewing grace, whose 
attention was first arrested at the family altar by hearing 
her father pray for the children. In that branch of domes- 
tic worship already hinted at, when the family are taken 
in smaller portions, or individually, into the secret chamber, 
the petitions can be more minutely specific and adapted. 
Dr. Cotton Mather had fifteen children, and hved to see the 
greater part of them die in the Lord. When they were 
capable of understanding him, he would take them alone, 
one by one, and after many affectionate admonitions to the 
child, would pray with him and make him the witness of the 
ao-onies and strono^ cries with which, on his behalf, he ad- 
dressed the throne of grace. 

In this department of the worship of the family, Chns- 
tian mothers are under obligation to take a large share. 
This falls within their appropriate sphere of action ; and it 
gives them opportunity to labor advantageously for the sal- 
vation of their beloved offspring. Prov. 31 : 2. "Wlien tlie 
father is absent from home, or the mother is left in widow- 
hood, she becomes the head of the family, and to her it 
belongs to offer the daily sacrifice of prayer and praise on 
the domestic altar. 



PRAYER. 19 

The giving of thanks at our meals is comprehended in 
family worship. This practice is enforced by the example 
of our divine Lord, who gave thanks not only at the sacra- 
mental supper, but repeatedly at other meals. Luke 9:16; 
24: 30. Paul, on board the ship, "took bread and gave 
thanks to God in presence of them all." Acts 27 : 35. 
This act of worship, though very brief, is one which fre- 
quently renews its claims upon us, and is too important to 
be neglected, or performed in a cold and formal manner. 

There are other occasions for social prayer, of which the 
limits of this Tract allow only a very brief notice. 

5. Praijer connected with pastor al visits. It is expressly 
required that the elders of the church should pray with the 
sick. James 5 : 14, 15. Prayer is very properly connected 
with other pastoral visits. As the ministers of Christ are 
under obligation to teach, not only in public, but from house 
to house, so their corresponding duty is prayer in private 
families as well as in the public assembly. Nor can any 
doubt the propriety of connecting prayer with the religious 
visits which are made by the subordinate officers of the 
church, or by other members appomted to this service. 

6. Prayer in schools. Prayer is a suitable exercise in 
schools of every description — not only in those devoted to 
relisrious instiiiction, as Sabbath-schools and theolos^ical 
seminaries, but also in schools of science. Nothing is of 
greater moment to the welfare of our country than the char- 
acter of its schools. In these the children and youth of our 
land are preparing to act on the stage of life ; and it is 
inconceivably important that they all should be exerting a 
good influence on the youthful character. The blessing of 
God should be implored on them all, by the religious com- 
munity, and in them all, by their respective teachers. From 
the university down to the infant school, none should be 
without prayer — solemn, affectionate, and appropriate pray- 



20 PRAYER. 

er. It is calculated, perhaps above all other means, to 
impress the minds of the yomig ; and is the appointed way 
of calling down upon them the blessing of heaven. 

7. Prayer connected ivith the transaction of imhlic busi- 
ness. " He, whose name alone is Jehovah, is the Most High 
overall the earth" — "the Governor among the nations." 
He requires that we should acknowledge him in all our 
ways ; and this requisition extends to us in our national, as 
w^ell as individual capacity. What can be more strictly 
proper, than the practice of opening our legislative assem- 
hlies with a solemn and devout recognition of our depend- 
ence on Him, and of his supreme dominion over us. How 
suitable, that the legislators of the nation should come, in 
the attitude of prayer, to the divine Lawgiver, to ask him 
to assist them to frame such laws for the nation, as shall 
resemble the laws he has made for the universe ; and to 
preserve them from enacting any law which shall contravene 
his own. ISTor is it less proper that courts of justice should 
be opened by solemn prayer to God. He is the " Judge of 
all the earth ;" yet he concerns himself with the proceedings 
of all the inferior courts throughout his extensive dominion. 
"Take heed," said king Jehoshaphat to the judges of his 
courts, " Take heed what ye do ; for ye judge not for man, 
but for the Lord, who is with you in the judgment, . Where- 
fore now let the fear of the Lord be upon you : take heed and 
do it ; for there is no iniquity with the Lord our God, nor 
respect of persons, nor taking of gifts." 2 Chron. 19 : 6, 
7. Let such sentiments as these impress the pubhc mind, 
and prayer to God will accompany the administration of 
justice; prayer, that judges, jurors, and counsellors may 
possess discernment and impartiality ; that witnesses may 
be preserved from perjury or the misrepresentation of 
facts ; and that righteous decisions may in every instance 
be given. 



PRAYER 21 

Two very important departments of solitary prayer re- 
main to be considered. 

8. Ejaculatory grayer. This branch of devotion has no 
restrictions of time or place. It can be breathed out in sol- 
itude, or in the midst of company. It may be so intense 
as to divert our attention from every other pursuit, or it 
may coexist with vigorous exercises of the body and mind. 
It may accompany the godly man while employed in the 
labors of his field or shop, and the godly woman in the 
labors of her house. It may be protracted through all the 
hours of the day, whether we are at home or abroad, with- 
out interrupting our business or our journey. It was in 
ejaculatory prayer that the mother of Samuel poured out 
her soul before the Lord. 1 Sam. 1:13. This is the kind of 
prayer which Nehemiah offered to the King of heaven at 
the very moment when presenting his petition to the king 
of Persia. Nehemiah 2 : 4. The meditations in which 
holy David seemed so much to delight, Avere filled with 
adorations, confessions, petitions, and thanksgivings. The 
longest and most devotional of all his psalms, every verse 
of which expresses his high regard for the inspired word, 
appears to be a collection of such ejaculations as from time 
to time he had breathed out into the bosom of his God. 

This is a branch of devotion to which no true Christian 
can be a stranger : prayer is the breath of every one who is 
born of God. Lam. 3 : 56 ; Acts 9 : 11. It may be so 
increased as to fill up all the vacancies of our time, sanctify 
all the business of life, and sweeten all its bitter cups, even 
at the very moment Avhen we are drinking them off. The 
more constantly our hearts are engaged in holy aspirations 
to God, the better will be our preparation to attend on all 
the stated services of religion. This, like the fire which 
was ever kept burning upon the altar, will kindle every 
sacrifice. Levit. 6 : 13. 

VOL. VIII. 16* 



22 PRAYER. 

9. Closet prayer. Though a closet is a small apartment 
within the house, our Saviour used the word to mean any- 
place where, with no embarrassment, either from the fear 
or pride of observation, we can freely pour out our hearts in 
prayer to God. The devotions of the closet require both 
time and i^lace. That this Avas the Saviour's view of the 
matter, we learn both from what he taught and practised. 
He taught us, when we were about to pray to our Father 
in secret, to '• enter into our closet and shut the door." 
This direction lays us under obligation to take pains to re- 
tire from business and company. And his own example is 
proof, that, by entering into the closet and shutting the 
door, he meant we should go into a place of retirement. 
At one time we read of his departing, unaccompanied by 
any of his disciples, into a solitary place to pray ; and at 
another, of his going up into a mountain apart to pray. 
Mark 1 : 35 ; Matt. 14 : 23. Jacob's prayer at Peniel be- 
longs to this class of devotions ; and to prepare himself to 
engage in it, he dropped all business from his hands, and 
secluded himself from the society of his own family. 

Ejaculatory prayer, as we have seen, is of great impor- 
tance ; yet the prayer of the closet has the preeminence. 
This excels the other in its tendency to promote depth of 
feeling, intimacy of communion, and importunity of desire. 
To preserve the distinction between these two kinds of 
secret devotion, is of greater importance to a life of piety 
than many imagine. A whole day of fervent ejaculations, 
whether we are at home or on a journey, does not release 
us from obligation to remember the closet exercises of the 
evening. 

Does the duty of 'prayer require any stated seasons for 
its perforrtiance ? " Stated seasons," said the pious Baxter, 
*'are the hedge of duty." He said the truth; for the 
breaking down of the hedge which incloses your field. 



PRAYER. 23 

would not more certainly expose the crop to be destroyed, 
than the relinquishment of stated seasons for your religious 
duties would expose the soul to famish. It has been ob- 
jected, that such regularity in religious exercises is unfavor- 
able to devotion, and that it even implies a denial of our 
dependence on the help of the Spirit. But the divine ap- 
pointment of the weekly Sabbath shows that God is not 
offended with regularity in our devotions ; and the daily 
sacrifice, offered every morning and evening in the church 
of Israel, is a valid argument in favor of the regular worship 
of God every morning and evening through the whole week. 
Concernino^ Solomon, or rather one o-reater than Solomon, it 
is said, " Prayer also shall be made for him continually, and 
daily shall he be praised." Psalm 72 : 15. "Everyday," 
said the devout Psalmist, " will I bless thee." Psalm 145:2. 
In the life of Christ, who is our supreme example, particuhu- 
mention is made of his morning and evening devotions. 

Family and closet prayer should be considered as daily 
duties ; and neither of them be less frequent than moraing 
and evening. And between these two extreme parts of the 
day, the distance seems too great to be passed over without 
some intervening regular devotion. Is it not practicable for 
most to have a stated season for closet prayer in the middle 
of the day ? At this hour Peter went up upon the house- 
top to pray. Acts 10:9. Among the pious resolutions of 
a king, who was far from being neglectful of the concerns 
of his kingdom, this was one : " Evening and morning, and 
at noon, will I pray." Psalm 55 : 17. This is also record- 
ed among the pious practices of one of the most fully occu- 
pied men who ever held an office in a king's court. Dan. 
6:10. The closet requires stated seasons, and of frequent 
recurrence, which must not be passed by : nor are these 
enough to satisfy the man of prayer. In a duty of such 
vital importance, and one which is so much under individual 



24 PRAYER. 

control, it would indicate a low state of piety, always to 
wait for the return of the regular seasons. Every man 
who feels for the honor of God, and the interest of religion 
in his own heart, in his own family, and in the world, has 
much that he wishes to carry to God in prayer. And the 
closet is eminently the place where he unburdens himself, 
and fills his mouth with arguments. Here he pleads for 
others as well as himself. He brings before God many in- 
dividual cases, both of believers and unbelievers. Here he 
can tell his Father who seeth in secret, every thing that he 
hopes, and every thing he fears concerning himself and the 
individuals for whom he intercedes. Is there not reason to 
conclude it was principally in the closet that Paul made so 
many prayers for particular chuixhes and individual be- 
lievers ? See Rom. 1:9; Ephes. 1 : 15, 16 ; Phil. 1 : 3, 4 ; 
Col. 1:3; 1 Thess. 1:2; 2 Tim. 1:3; Philemon ver. 4. 

A sketch has now been given of the various kinds of 
prayer, both social and secret, none of which can be omit- 
ted without great hazard to the soul. Between these dif- 
ferent kinds of prayer there is a perfect harmon}-. Ejacu- 
lations will seek to find a closet, and the exercises of the 
closet Avill lead to the family altar, and the sanctuary. Se- 
cret duties are, however, peculiarly indispensable ; since, 
without these, piety can have no existence in any heart. 
These, indeed, are the only duties w^hich the child of God 
can be sure of enjoying. His situation may be such, at 
least for a season, as to shut him out of the sanctuary ; and 
he may hold such a subordinate place in the domestic cir- 
cle as to be unable to enjoy family worship ; but should he 
be placed in servitude, exile, or the prison, he can pray to 
his Father in secret. Nothing but a prayerless heart can 
prevent this intercourse with God. 

There is an appendage, that the Scriptures sometimes 
connect with prayer, both social and solitary, which I know 



PRAYER. 25 

not how to pass over unnoticed. I refer to fasting. Christ 
himself fasted, and his disciples frequently connected fast- 
ing with their prayers. It is a solemn accompaniment, to 
which there is a peculiar propriety in resorting in times of 
exigency, whether in relation to ourselves, our families, the 
church, or the nation. Our Lord, when speaking of the 
ejection of an unclean spirit, said, " This kind goeth not out 
but by prayer and fasting," Matt. 17 : 21 ; and may we not 
conclude that the adversary of souls, who is still abroad in 
the earth, will not be expelled and confined to his prison 
until there has first been much prayer and fasting? Let 
those who are anxious to see the earth freed from his pol- 
luting influence, not wait for public fasts to be proclaimed 
by church or state ; but, like David, and Nehemiah, and 
Daniel, and Anna, let them appoint fasts for themselves. 
See 2 Sam. 12 : 16; Nehem. 1:4; Dan. 9:3; Luke 
2 : 37. Before that foul spirit shall be cast out,, and the 
earth filled with the glory of the Redeemer's kingdom, 
there is reason to believe that, among other means to effect 
this glorious revolution, there Avill be a great multiplication 
of secret fasts. Matt. 6 : 16-18; Zech. 12 : 10-14. 

Christians, I cannot close my remarks on this practi- 
cal subject without a solemn appeal to you. I address not 
mere members of the church, but the spiritual members of 
Christ. You constitute but a small part of the inhabitants 
of the earth ; a small part of Christendom ; and it is to be 
feared, the minority of Christian churches. Yet, in the 
moral conflict in our Avorld, you alone constitute " God's 
host;" while all the rest of the race form an opposing 
army. The controversy is founded on the claims of Christ 
to universal dominion. The side you have chosen — and 0, 
how great the mercy which led you to make such a choice — 
is the side which is approved by all holy beings, and 
v/hich the Spirit of truth has foretold shall be victorious. 



26 PRAYER. 

*' These shall make war with the Ijamb, and the Lamb shall 
overcome them : for he is Lord of lords, and King of kings ; 
and they that are with him are called, and chosen, and 
faithful." " The saints of the Most High shall take the 
kingdom, and possess the kingdom for ever." Rev. 17 : 14 ; 
Daniel 7:18. Christians, remember that great things are 
to be effected by your instrumentality. It is under your 
feet that the God of peace will shortly bruise Satan, that 
fallen spirit who heads the opposition. Rom. 16 : 20. 
The saints of the Most High are to take, as well as possess, 
the kinordom ; and in the decisive battle, in which the Lamb 
shall overcome, he is to be followed by a valiant band, even 
such as are ''called, and chosen, and faithful." 

As Christian warriors, you are furnished with many 
weapons Avhich are mighty, through God, to pull down the 
strong-holds of the enemy ; but none is more effectual than 
p-ayer. It is a weapon peculiar to yourselves : not an in- 
dividual of all the opposition can use it. It is the weapon 
by which Israel of old gained the victory. But for the 
hand lifted up to God in the heavens, Israel had been 
discomfited, and Amalek had prevailed. Exod. 17. Their 
prayer took hold on divine strength, and brought the 
Mighty One of Jacob to their help. The millennium, the 
thousand years of the Redeemer's reign, is drawing near, 
but it can never be introduced until the spirit of prayer 
shall be greatly increased. Before the earth can be made 
to biing forth in one day, or a nation be born at once, Zion 
must travail in agonizing prayer. Isa. 66 : 8. The God 
of Zion has taken the mercy-seat, and is now waiting to 
receive the petitions of his people. He has himself com- 
manded us to be importunate in presenting them : " Ye 
that make mention of the Lord, keep not silence, and give 
him no rest, till he establish, and till he make Jerusalem a 
praise in the earth." Isa. 62 : 6, 7. 



PRAYER 27 

Prayer is a peculiarly precious exercise, since it brings 
us near to God, and keeps alive a sense of our dependence. 
It is the nature of prayer to feel its dependence on God for 
all things, even for its own existence ; you will, therefore, 
not forget to pray that you may be 'prayerful. Cherish in 
your hearts the spirit of devotion. Multiply your ejacula- 
tory petitions, so that the meditation of your heart may be 
truly acceptable in God's sight. Prize the closet. Rise 
early, or sit up late ; or do both, to increase closet devo- 
tions. Redeem time from business and recreations, from 
unprofitable reading and conversation, to gain it for prayer. 
Let yowY family worship become more spiritual. Frequent 
prayer -meetings, if health and circumstances will permit, 
and seek for the Divine presence to give life to the prayers 
and interest to the whole exercise. Let the Lord's day be 
to you, more than ever, a day of devotion ; and let the 
Lord's liouse become, in a more emphatic sense, "■ the house 
of prayer." Fill up every vacant moment after you have 
entered the sanctuary, by silent petitions for the blessing of 
God on its holy exercises. 

Let prayer accompany every thing you undertake ; and 
engage in nothing on Avhich you dare not implore God's 
blessing. Pray that Christ's church on earth may become 
more pure and spiritual — that its discipline may be effectual 
— that it may be preserved from the deadening influence of 
erroneous doctrines and immoral practices — that its minis- 
ters may be qualified to discharge the duties of their sacred 
office — and that its light, shed on the surrounding world, 
may prove the means of converting multitudes to God. 

Let there be much prayer for revivals of religion, that 
they may be the genuine work of the Holy Spirit. Before 
the latter day glory of the church shall arrive, there must 
be such a measure of divine influence shed down on Gos- 
pel lands as will altogether surpass any thing which has 



28 PRAYER. 

yet been experienced. And to prepare the way for this 
ineffable blessing, there must be such a holy fervor, such a 
sweet union, and such an unbroken hold in prayer, as we 
have never yet known. Let us neither expect nor desire it 
in any other way. The conversion of Christendom itself 
would seem to call for all this prayerful ness ; and yet a 
world of unbelieving Jews, Mahomedans, and Pagans, all 
need our most fervent intercessions. Brethren, let us be 
up and doing. Every thing within our power let us do to 
estabhsh the reign of the Prince of peace. Let those who 
have money give freely and liberally ; and to their pecun- 
iary offerings let them add their prayers. Let those who 
have qualifications, go into the field of labor, and bear the 
heat and burden of the day ; and let them add much prayer 
to their toilsome labors. And if there be any, among all 
those whom God has laid under everlasting obligation by 
the redemption of their souls, who can neither become la- 
borers themselves, nor furnish money, let such do what 
they can : let them give a holy example, and contribute lib- 
erally of their prayers. 

Has any prayerless sinner read these pages ? Dear, 
precious immortal, we tremble for you. Continuing as you 
are, your state is hopeless. To the great Hearer of prayer 
you are unreconciled. But, through the atoning blood of 
Christ, even you may come to his throne of mercy and be 
accepted. ISTow, be entreated to hear and obey his voice of 
warning and of love : " Seek ye the Lord while he may 
be found, call ye upon him while he is near : let the wicked 
forsake his wa}', and the unrighteous man his thoughts : 
and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy 
upon him ; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon." 

Note. A premium of fifty dollars, offered by a friend, was 
a^N'arded to the author of this Tract. 



jVo. 272. 
THE ADVANTAGES 



OF 



SABBATH-SCHOOLS, 



While contemplating "the signs of the times," we have 
sometimes thought, that "if the Holy Spirit were again, as 
of old, to select twelve men with whom to finish the great 
work of converting mankind," and for this purpose should 
direct them to any special means, the estahlishment and con- 
stant improvement of Sabbath-schools w^ould engage a 
large portion of their attention. 

By this remark we intend not to disparage any of the 
grand and comprehensive schemes of modern benevolence 
which contemplate the universal extension of the Redeem- 
er's kingdom. No ; we view them all with unfeigned ap- 
probation and delight. The Bible society, distributing to a 
guilty world that volume from the throne of God, which is 
able to make men "wise unto salvation;" the missionary 
society, pouring its flood of heavenly light on the deep 
darkness of heathen superstition and idolatry; the Tract 
society, scattering its voiceless heralds of mercy where the 
living preacher might never come — we cordially hail them 
all as coworkers in the great enterprise of evangelizing 
mankind, and hastening the dawn of millennial glory. 

In view of these and kindred institutions, each moving 
majestically onward in its appropriate walks of usefulness, 
the estimate we have given of the importance of the Sab- 
bath-school system, associated as it is Avith the familiar and 
imassuming title of school, may seem to have been prompt- 
ed by blind partiality or excited fancy. But the opinion 

VOL. VTII. IT 



2 THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 

will scarce seem extravagant, if we consider the immense 
moral influence which this institution is yet to exert in pro- 
moting those two great ends of the divine administration, 
the welfare of man, and the glory of God, That this 
influence may be properly estimated, let us glance at the 
advantages of the Sabbath-school system, as displayed in 
the BENEFITS which it bestows, and the manner in which it 
confers them. We remark, then, that 

The Sabbath-school system provides, by its schools, for 
the intellectual improvement of its 2^u2:>ils. This, though a 
subordinate object, is one of incalculable importance in its 
bearings on the character, usefulness, and happiness of 
mankind. Perhaps no country, as a whole, aftbrds greater 
facilities for the education of its population than our own, 
and in no one certainly is education more valuable ; yet 
even in this country the advantages of instruction are very 
unequally distributed. Up to the present hour, eight of 
our states and territories have no common-school system, 
and in several others the operations of that system are well- 
nigh paralyzed by the legislative limitation of its advan- 
tages to those who are willing to call themselves "the 
poor." And even where common-schools are most favora- 
bly organized, and most successfully conducted, they are, 
with few exceptions, inadequate to the wants of the rising 
generation. This is peculiarly true of our Avestern and 
middle states. According to an official statement, there 
are, (1833,) in Pennsylvania, 250,000 children, between 5 
and 15 years of age, who never see the inside of a school- 
house ; and if that state be taken as a fair standard of com- 
putation, there are, in our own favored land, two millions 
and a half of children entirely destitute of common-school 
instruction. 

All these, however, ivill be educated in industry or in 
idleness ; in knowledge, or in ignorance ; as good, or as evil 
members of society. For want of common-school instruc- 
tion., they are, for the most part, unable to acquire that 



THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 3 

knowledge whicli is the only safeguard of individual or na- 
tional welfare, and are thus rendered liable to become, at 
any moment, the victims of temptation and depravity. 
Here, however, the Sabbath-school steps in to redeem them 
from degradation and vice, and train them up for intelli- 
gence and virtue. The common-school system, indeed, 
aims at the same results, and those results, were it imiver- 
sal, it might universally accomplish : but here it stops. Be- 
yond this point its efforts are not even directed. And this 
suggests what is the prominent, and one of the most strik- 
ing characteristics of the Sabbath-school system. 

Its great aim is, to provide for the thorough moral and 
religious education of the rising generation. " Knowledge 
is power ;" and the very best kind of power is that wisdom 
which Cometh from above. One of the greatest blessings 
which can be conferred upon man is intellectual and relig- 
ious instruction ; the former to prepare him for respectability 
and usefulness on earth, the latter to guide him to regions 
of endless blessedness beyond the grave. The former, as 
we have seen, the Sabbath- school system neglects not ; but 
it looks beyond this, and with an eye fixed on the eternal 
world, seeks to train up its pupils for glory, and honor, and 
immortality. It is the only general system of education 
which recognizes man in his true character as an intellectual 
and moral being, possessed of a never-dying spirit, whose 
capacities for enjoyment or misery must for ever expand, 
and who must dwell for ever with angels and the redeemed, 
amid the glories of heaven, or with devils and the damned, 
in the woes of hell. It brings the Bible, with all its motives 
of light and love, to instruct the understanding and sway the 
affections — to bear upon the conscience and influence the 
conduct. It throws around its pupils the powerful restrain- 
ing influence of gospel truth, to fortify them against the 
assaults of temptation, to fit them for the discharge of the 
relative duties of life, and to prepare their minds for the 
cordial reception of divine truth. 



4 THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 

Such an education affords the strongest assurance, that 
the individual on whom it is conferred will prove a blessing 
to himself and a blessing to society — will be happy on 
earth, and happy in heaven. Such an education is the 
highest boon that man can confer upon his fellow-man ; 
for, if properly improved, it will guide him in safety through 
all his pilgrimage, afford him light in darkness, consolation 
in affliction, joy in sorrow, support in trial, victory in con- 
flict, and life eternal in the midst of death. 

But more than this ; in every age and country, the 
character and virtue of a people, the prosperity which they 
enjoy, and the institutions which they possess, depend al- 
most entirely upon the nature of their instruction. And 
what means are better adapted to promote the highest in- 
terests of a nation in these respects, than the correct relig- 
ious education of the individuals composing it ? What but 
this can raise them from the savage to a civilized state ; 
from slaves to citizens ; from the grossness of sensuality to 
the dignified enjoyment of cultivated life ? What will so 
effectually diminish their temptations to crime, give a proper 
direction to their valuable qualities, control those which are 
dangerous and hurtful, and even render them subservient 
to the best interests of society? These are questions of 
the deepest interest to the philanthropist and the Christian. 
And while *'the Avorld is impelled, with such violence, in 
opposite directions ; while a spirit of giddiness and revolt 
is shed abroad upon the nations, the only safety is in the 
improvement of the mass of the people in knowledge, prob- 
ity, and the fear of the Lord. In the neglect of these, the 
politeness and refinement of knowledge accumulated in the 
higher orders, weak and impotent, will be exposed to the 
most imminent danger, and will perish like a garland in the 
grasp of popular fury." 

Yes, the only security is to be found in early religious 
instruction. This, the Sabbath-school, supplying parental 
neglect or deficiency, or assisting parental faithfulness, at- 



THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATII-SCHOOLS. 5 

tempts to furnish. It acts on the principle that the immor- 
tal soul cannot be too early instructed in its duties and its 
prospects ; that the best, if not the only Avay of preserving 
the mind from error, is to store it abundantly with religious 
knowledge ; that the surest pledge of habitual obedience 
is a memory richly furnished with Scripture truths, which 
in the hour of temptation shall prompt the warning voice 
of conscience, or, like ministering spirits, sweetly whisper, 
**This is the way, walk ye in it." It affords, also, the best 
foundation for enlightened piety. Ignorance is not the 
mother of devotion, but sound religious instruction is the 
best preservative from superstition, fanaticism, and infideli- 
ty. Facts testify, that of those who, at the present day, 
become truly converted to God, a krge proportion are 
those who have been brought up in Sabbath-schools. Of 
Y87 hopefully converted to God in one district, within a 
year, 592 were either teachers or pupils of Sabbath-schools. 
In another district, reports from 50 towns give 150 teachers 
and 522 scholars, who, in a single year, made a profession 
of rehgion. During the first 14 years of the New York 
Sunday-school Union, 1,871 teachers and scholars made a 
profession of their faith in Christ, of whom 110 entered 
upon the study of divinity. Not less than 5,000 teachers, 
and 10,000 scholars, are estimated by the annual report of 
the American Sunday-school Union to have been convert- 
ed in the year ending May, 1832. The number of conver- 
sions of persons connected with Sunday-schools, reported 
during the first eight years of the existence of that society, 
was 26,393. A multitude of other concurrent facts might 
be adduced. Thus, by providing for the thorough religious, 
scriptural education of its pupils, the Sabbath-school sys- 
tem, both by its direct and indirect influence, accomplishes 
an incalculable amount of good for the benefit of society, 
for the happiness of individuals on earth, and for tlie future 
welfare of the undying spirit. 

But another and highly important feature of the Sab- 

VOL. VIII. " 17* 



:Q THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 

bath-scliool system is, that it aims to 2^^'ovide suitable read- 
me/ for all who are within the sphere of its influence. *' Let 
me write the ballads of a nation," said a discriminating ob- 
server of human nature — " let me write the ballads of a 
nation, and I care not who makes its laws." The remark 
was founded on a careful observation of the causes which 
form and modify national character, and it suggests the 
intimate connection which ever exists between popular feel- 
ing and the healthful moral sentiment of a community. 
But if such be the influence of ballads, how vast the influ- 
ence of the entire reading of all the childreyi and youth of a 
country. And when we remember that the annual increase 
of our reading population is not far from 300,000, how 
deeply important does it appear, that this influence be so 
directed as to promote the best interests of society, and the 
glory of God. That they may further, as far as possible, 
this great object, the American Sunday-school Union have 
assumed the responsible duty of providing rational and 
profitable reading for children and youth of our land, and 
are now preparing and sending forth books which cultivate 
the taste, improve the mind, recommend the institutions 
and enjoin the duties of Christianity, and urge upon the 
conscience and the heart the claims of personal religion. 
These little books are read by pupils and teachers. They 
are carried home, there to be taken up by those who would 
shrink from the task of perusing a larger volume. Their 
simplicity engages the mind and wins the attention, and 
brings the individual under the persuasive influence of exam- 
ple and precept. The old and the young read them with 
delight. The man of business takes them up in his mo- 
ments of leisure, and the parent reads them in the midst of 
the attentive family circle. To all they impart profitable 
and pleasing instruction, and not unfrequently they lead 
the irreligious to seek in earnest the salvation of their souls. 
There is another consideration which will aid us to esti- 
mate the value of these publications, though the benefits 



THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 7 

which they confer cannot be fully appreciated until dis- 
closed by the light of eternity. It is that they take the 
place of the silly and worthless books which, half a century 
ago, w^ere the sources of youthful instruction and amuse- 
ment, and, we may add, the vehicles of superstition and 
corruption. Who can estimate the value of a system which 
not only excludes from the nursery and the parlor such 
miserable trash as " Tom Thumb " and " Goody Two-Shoos," 
but substitutes in their place works, the tendency of which 
is to train the youthful mind for virtue on earth and happi- 
ness in heaven ? 

Such are the blessings which the Sabbath-school system 
seeks to confer; and, great as they are, their value is 
"greatly increased by the manner in w^hich they are be- 
stowed. 

They are conferred principally upon the young. This 
is decidedly the most important and the most cheering fea- 
ture of the Sabbath-school system. In the morning of life 
the memory is retentive, the heart is tender, conscience is 
faithful in its monitions, and prejudices are few and feeble. 
Impressions are then most easily made ; and the principles 
then inculcated continue through future life to be the most 
permanent and powerful. Habit, too, is daily increasing its 
influence for evil or for good — riveting the shackles of sin, 
or strengthening the golden chain which binds the heart to 
God. Such is the dictate of human wisdom and experience, 
which proverbially assert that youth is pecuharly the sea- 
son of improvement. Inspiration confirms the same truth 
by her declaration, " Train up a child in the way he should 
go, and when he is old he will not depart from it ;" and 
observation might point us to many a broken-hearted parent, 
who, when mourning over the wayward depravity of a 
ruined child, has been heard to exclaim, in bitterness of 
spirit, ''Ah, if I had but restrained him inyouth, he would 
now have been dutiful and obedient." 

This same principle, too, is recognized by the men of 



§ TFIE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 

this world, who are too often " wiser in their generation 
than the children of light." Cataline, when plotting the 
overthrow of the Roman republic, and the Grecian tyrant, 
when seeking his country's subjection, sought among young 
men those who might be made the instruments of base 
and wicked designs ; and, in modern times, it has been 
through the education of the young that the Jesuits have 
swayed the thrones of Europe, and that the Romish church 
has extended her moral despotism over the nations of the 
old world. How important then is it, that the friends of 
the Redeemer should systematically improve the same pe- 
riod to implant the seeds of religious knowledge, to mould 
the character for eternity, and endeavor to seal the immor- 
tal youth as an heir of heaven. This the Sabbath-school 
aims to do, and thus renders its blessings doubly valu- 
able. 

It is another pleasing characteristic of the Sabbath- 
school system, that its benefits are hestoived freely. Hence 
it is, that many who would feel ashamed to avail themselves 
of the school-funds set apart "for the education of the 
poor," and many more who are unable to afford the neces- 
sary expense, may, by means of Sabbath-schools, easily 
secure for their children the inestimable benefits of Chris- 
tian education. The amount which the system before us 
thus freely contributes to the instruction of our population, 
may be to some extent estimated by the fact, that there are 
in our country not far from 100,000 Sabbath-school teach- 
ers, and that their compensation, at thirty- three cents per 
Sabbath — the rate formerly paid — would every year amount 
to 3,300,000 dollars ; a sum greater by far than is annually 
distributed by all the school-funds of our land. The place 
of assembling usually costs nothing, being previously pro- 
vided for some other purpose. The use of the libraries 
costs nothing ; the teaching, as we have seen, is gratuitous ; 
and the text-books are gratuitously furnished to all who 
are unable to purchase them. Truly, the Sabbath- school. 



THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 9 

like the Gospel, bestows its blessings " without money and 
without price." 

But another interesting trait of the Sabbath- school sys- 
tem is, that its aims are universal. Did this institution ex- 
tend its advantages but to a single city, or a single province, 
it would deserve our approbation. Did it seek to extend 
its favors to an entire nation, the moral grandeur of its de- 
signs would excite our warmest admiration. But a city, a 
state, a nation, are not the limit of its operations. No, its 
"field is the world;" and, by the grace of God, it will 
never cease its labors, or grow weary in them, till its bless- 
ings are showered on the Avhole human race. All classes, 
all conditions, are alike the objects of its kind and compre- 
hensive benevolence. Pupils, teachers, parents, and friends, 
share its benefits. None are so high as to be above its 
favors ; none so low as to be beneath its notice. The sys- 
tem, too, is self-sustaining and expansive. It already num- 
bers upwards of two millions in its connection; and its 
sacred energies shall never tire, till, to the east and the 
west, and the north and the south, it can look forth with 
joy upon an enlightened and regenerated world. Yes, with 
delight do we anticipate the day — even now its golden rays 
tinge the summits of the mountains — when these institutions 
shall become universal ; when every city, town, and village 
shall have a Sabbath-school, from which the voice of prayer 
and praise shall ascend up and mingle with the voices of 
angels and glorified spirits, before the throne of God. The 
system has already extended itself with a rapidity surpass- 
ing the highest* expectations of its friends, and it will con- 
tinue to extend till it shall circle the wide earth with its 
glory — till it beholds the children of a world, through its 
instrumentality, rescued from " indignation and wrath, trib- 
ulation and anguish," and prepared for an eternal inherit- 
ance of "joy unspeakable and full of glory." 

It is a further advantage of the Sabbath-school, that its 
instructions are imparted affectionately. In every well-reg- 



10 THE ADVAxXTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 

ulated Sabbath- school, the teacher rules by the influence of 
kindness, and the law of love. His pupils feel that he is 
interested in them, and that he earnestly desires and seeks 
their highest happiness in time and eternity. Hence, they 
■will become deeply attached to him, will confidently seek 
his counsel, and be guided by his suggestions. Under these 
circumstances, too, the social feelings will be best cultivated, 
and the intellectual and moral improvement be incompara- 
bly greater than where equal natural capacity is coaxed or 
driven to the performance of the daily task. 

It is still another advantage of Sabbath-schools, that 
they are held on the Sabbath, a day which, if not thus occu- 
pied, would in all probability, by many who are now en- 
gaged in these schools, be profaned by worldly business, or 
wasted in idleness and folly. How many children, who 
otherwise, as formerly, might be seen loitering away the 
holy Sabbath, now spend its sacred hours in the Sabbath- 
school and in the study of the word of God. How many 
teachers and parents are thus led to a proper improvement 
of the day of rest. And how delightful the thought, that 
through the influence of Sabbath-schools, that day shall 
ere long be rescued from long-continued abuse and profana- 
tion, and be consecrated to the service of Jehovah; to the 
acquisition of those truths Avhich exert the most salutary 
influence on the heart and life, and which make the soul 
Avise imto salvation. 

There is a single other feature of the Sabbath-school 
system too important in its bearings on civil society to pass 
without notice ; and that is, the influence which it exerts 
in the 2^^6vent{on of crime. " Wholesome laws and severe 
pimishments," says an old writer, '' are but slow and late 
ways of reforming the world ; the timely and most compen- 
dious method of doing this, is by early religious education." 
The correctness of this principle is abundantly sustained by 
all sound maxims of civil government ; for the grand object 
of all wise legislation is not so much to punish crime as to 



THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. H 

prevent its occuiTence. Hence, the means best adapted to 
prevent the commission of crimes, most effectually promote 
the great ends of ci\'il government. Now, as a matter of 
fact, by far the greater portion, probably ninety-nine hun- 
dredths of all crimes committed, have their origin in those 
three great fountains of wickedness, ignorance, sabbath- 
breaking, and INTEMPERANCE. But who are less likely to 
grow up in ignorance than Sabbath-school scholars ? And 
how many of the five hundred thousand drunkards of our 
land have been trained up to intemperance in Sabbath- 
schools ? And who are so unlikely to violate the sanctity 
of the Sabbath as those who are early and systematically 
taught to reverence and hallow this holy day ? Of all the 
pupils of the celebrated Robert Raikes, not one was ever 
convicted of flagrant crime. Of five hundred convicts in 
one of our prisons recently examined, but three had ever 
been Sabbath-school scholars. And if all the prisons of our 
land were thoroughly examined, how many Sabbath-school 
pupils is it supposed would be found among their eleven 
thousand wretched and guilty inmates ? The number Avould 
be very small ; and we confidently believe, that if the inves- 
tigation were made, its results would show that Sabbath- 
schools, by their preventive influence, are doing more for the 
social and civil order of our country, than all the statute- 
books, and dungeons, and gibbets of the land. 

Such is the Sabbath-school system : the simplest, most 
efficient, most rational, and most valuable system of relig- 
ious education ever devised — distinguished no less by the 
nature of its blessings, than by the manner in which it con- 
fers them — subordinately, in various waj^s, promoting the 
mental discipline and intellectual culture of its pupils, but 
seeking, as its chief object, to train them up for the enjoy- 
ments and the glories of a holier state of existence. Its 
blessings, too, are rendered doubly valuable by being be- 
stowed, as they are, in youth, a season so favorable to im- 
provement ; AFFECTIONATELY, SO as to secure, by the influ- 



12 THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 

ence of kindness, the highest benefit of the pupil ; freely , 
that the poorest may receive them ; universally, that a 
world may be their object ; and on the Sabbath, which is 
thus redeemed from profanation, and improved in the ser- 
vice of Jehovah. 

Great, too, are the incidental advantages of the Sabbath- 
school system. It exerts a silent, but powerful influence 
in uniting the hearts of Christians, in furthering other be- 
nevolent operations, in leading multitudes to the study of 
the Bible, in preparing the young to hear the Gospel with 
intelligence and interest, in preventing vice and the commis- 
sion of crime, in diffusing inteUigence and good order, and 
in extending a thousand nameless, yet benign and hallowed 
influences through the whole mass of society. Who can 
fully estimate these influences, immense, extended, and 
constantly extending as they are ? Hoav often is an impor- 
tant truth mentioned at school, and afterwards repeated at 
home by the pupil, to reprove the careless sinner, or cheer 
the desponding Christian. How many teachers, surprised 
at their own ignorance of the truths which they teach oth- 
ers, have been led to serious reflection, and, through the 
blessing of the Holy Spirit, to a new life. How many par- 
ents and friends, roused by the volume from the Sabbath- 
school library, or by the remark of a pious child, have been 
awakened to feel the value of the soul, and to seek that rest 
which can only be found in believing in Jesus, How many, 
in short, have, through the instrumentality of Sabbath- 
schools, been preserved from degradation, and guilt, and 
Avoe in this world, and from misery eternal in the world to 
come. Let Sabbaths rescued from profanation, and church- 
es reared in the wilderness, tell us. Tell us, ye ignorant, 
instructed ; ye profligate, reformed ; ye who were once 
deo;raded, but have been snatched as "brands from the 
burning." Tell us, ye teachers, and parents, and friends, 
who are now rejoicing "in hope of the glory of God," and 
who trace your first serious impressions to the direct or in- 



THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 13 

direct influences of Sabbath-schools. Tell us, ye millions 
of children saved from vice and early depravity, governed 
by the law of kindness, insti-ucted in the holy Scriptures, 
and taught in childhood to lisp the praises of the Prince of 
peace. Tell us, ye angels who bear to heaven the joyful 
news of the sinner's repentance, and ye ministering spirits 
before the throne, who are appointed " to minister for them 
who shall be heirs of salvation." 

In this view of the subject, the duty of all to sustain 
the Sabbath-school cause, and to extend its benefits as 
widely as possible by their influence, their efforts, their con- 
tributions, and l\\e\Y 2irayers, is made obvious. To the phi- 
lanthropist, it promises the melioration of the condition of 
all mankind, and their elevation in intelligence, social enjoy- 
ment, and personal happiness. To the patriot, it affords 
the surest pledge of the permanence of those political and 
civil institutions which we so much prize, and the only secure 
foundation of which is indi\'idual and national virtue. To 
the Christian, it comes as the agent and pioneer of the 
Gospel, and he should Avelcome it with mingled gratitude 
and joy, as the harbinger of boundless blessings to the 
church of God. 

To all, then, but to the Christian especially, does it be- 
long to cherish and extend the Sabbath-school system ; for 
probably in no other way can he do more to quicken the 
flight of that angel who has the everlasting Gospel to preach 
to every creature — to promote the cause of Christ by the 
conversion of his fellow-men — to cause the solitary place to 
breathe forth the notes of joy and gladness, and the wilder- 
ness to rejoice and blossom as the rose — to make oui* whole 
land Immanuel's land, and the wide world a blooming gar- 
den of God. Labor, then, fellow- Christian, in this cause, 
to gain the high honor of turning many to righteousness, 
that when the assembled universe shall rise in judgment, 
you may find, among the millions of the redeemed, midti- 
tudes saved through the instrumentality of Sabbath-schools 

VOL. VIII. 18 



14 THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 

which you aided to establish, who shall shine for ever as 
the brightness of the firmament, and with whom you may 
for ever praise and adore the riches of redeeming grace. 

Note — A premium, offered by a friend of Sabbath-schools, was 
awarded to the author of this Tract. 



INFLUENCE OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 

Sabhath-sckools 2>^'€vent the desecration of the Sabbath. 
Every intelligent man must acknowledge the importance of 
observing this day to keep it holy. Abolish the Sabbath, 
the Bible and all other moral influences at once fade away : 
as the Sabbath is observed or neglected, so will the prin- 
ciples and doctrines of religion be honored or despised. Of 
this truth, we have most lamentable demonstrations iji many 
of our cities and towns, especially our seaports. This day 
being neglected, God's name is wantonly profaned, and all 
his labors set at naught. Just in proportion as this day 
is disregarded, will the knowledge and worship of Jehovah 
escape from the mind, the moral sense of the community be 
impaired, its powers decay, its foundations fail, and its pil- 
lars totter and fall. In the light of these truths, is it not 
an important consideration, that Sabbath-schools prevent 
thousands of children and youth from Sabbath desecration ? 
They gather those who would otherwise be loitering about 
the streets, wandering in the fields, and revelling in dissi- 
pation, and impress their young minds with reverence for 
God's sacred day. This was one of the primary objects in 
the mind of Robert Raikes, their founder. He saw the 
overwhelming evils of this crying sin ; the Sabbath-breaker 
is prepared for almost any step in crime. By reference to 
the history of criminals, we find that nine-tenths regard 
Sabbath-breaking as a fatal step in their mad career. Rev- 
erence for the Sabbath being destroyed, moral principle is 



THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 15 

almost extinct. Who then can compute the good effected 
by Sabbath-schools, in preventing the violation of the fourth 
commandment. 

Sabbath- schools bring children under the convicting and 
converting influences of the Gospel. Here the Bible is care- 
fully read, and accurately studied : its precepts and invita- 
tions, its warnings and threatenings, are all intelligently, 
famiharly, and affectionately explained and applied. Here 
are imparted all the fundamental principles of our holy re- 
ligion ; children are solemnly impressed with the fact of the 
existence of a God — theu' relations to him as their Creator, 
Preserver, and bountiful Benefactor, and their obligations 
growing out of these relations ; they are taught that they 
are sinners lost and ruined — that God has had compassion 
on our race, and given his dear Son to die for our redemp- 
tion — that Jesus Christ was God manifest in the flesh — that 
he lived here on earth as we, although without sin — wrought 
many most astonishing and benevolent miracles, such as 
healing the sick, and even raising the dead — that he was per- 
secuted, insulted, and scourged — was basely traduced, and 
finally suffered and died upon the cross, as a sacrifice for sin. 
They are told the wonderful phenomena attending the cru- 
cifixion, all establishing the reality and truth of our glorious 
Christianity. They are taught the terms of salvation, re- 
pentance towards God and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. 
The exercises are accompanied with the enhvening, animat- 
ing, and subduing power of prayer and praise. Such is the 
system of Sunday-school instruction. No wonder that a 
great majority of those converted at the present day, are 
or have been connected with Sunday-schools. That chil- 
dren are capable of understanding the Gospel at a very 
early age cannot be disputed : numerous facts are in point. 
The instructions and impressions which resulted in John 
Newton's conversion were received from his mother, who 
died before he was four years of age. A celebrated female 



16 THE ADVANTAGES OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS. 

writer says she distinctly recollects consultations held in her 
own mind in view of the claims of the Gospel, while only 
three years of age. Thus we see the practicability and 
advantages of early religious education. To this source 
may be traced the distinguished piety and usefulness of 
Samuel, Timothy, St. Augustine, Hooker, Wesley, D wight, 
Gardiner, Doddridge, and a host of other illustrious names. 

Sahhatli- schools exert a 'powerful moral influence upon 
parents. Parents become interested in the cause almost 
necessarily. Their children repeat in their presence what 
they have learned at school, and hear it they must. Soon 
their feelings are awakened — curiosity is excited, and per- 
chance they accompany their little ones to the school. Here 
their hearts are enlisted, and from the school they proceed 
to the sanctuary. Thus are they brought to sit under the 
charming sound of Gospel truth, and frequently to feel its 
saving power. In assisting children to learn their lessons, 
and in reading the Bible and other books they use, many 
have been led to reflection and repentance. Teachers, too, 
while visiting their scholars, have full access to the parents, 
and by conversing with them upon the solemn interests of 
their souls, are often the means of their salvation. Thus, 
through the indirect agency of Sunday-schools, thousands 
of fathers and mothers have been benefited ; many have 
been raised from ignorance to intelligence, many from vice 
to virtue, many from the dominion of Satan to the service 
of God. 



^o. 273, 

THE LOST SOUL. 



Soon as the physician announced that her complaint 
was beyond the reach of medicine, and that she could not 
live, all hope forsook her. Her anticipations of worldly 
enjoyment fled. Her thoughts descended into the depths 
of eternity. " / did not think I should die so soon — / have 
lost my soul,'' was the language which escaped, in a moan- 
ing tone, with every shortening breath, until, in a few hours, 
the scene closed for ever. In vain did her anxious friends 
and her minister proclaim a free pardon through the blood 
and righteousness of the Saviour, if she would surrender 
her heart to him ; her mind could not be diverted for a 
moment from the one all-absorbing theme : " / did not 
think I should die so soon — / have lost my soul /" 

Poor Ann , the closing scene of whose life is here 

truly, though imperfectly described, had pious friends. 
From Sabbath to Sabbath the Gospel had been constantly 
and faithfully preached to her ; she had lived through several 
revivals of religion ; had once and again been moved in view 
of her danger as a sinner, exposed to the wrath of God, and 
as often had relapsed into stupidity. 

Thus sixteen years passed away under the sunshine of 
religious privileges, accompanied, at times, with the strivings 
of God's Holy Spirit. Now the season of reckoning was 
come. She was arrested by a disease which, in a short 
time, was pronounced incurable. 

" O death, how dreadful must thy summons be 
To him that is at ease !" 

Is there not distressing reason to fear that Ann's appre- 
hensions were too well grounded ? In her death, then, 
behold a solemn attestation to the following truths. 

The soul may be lost. Multitudes, who in the time of 
health and prosperity could trifle, perliaps, with the threat- 
enings of the Bible, have left, in the honest hour of death, 
a similar testimony. Like Ann, they have shuddered in 
prospect of their doom. The representations of the word 

VOL. VIII. 18* 



2 THE LOST SOUL. 

of God have pressed upon the conscience with the weight 
of mountains — have pierced the heart with the anguish of 
barbed arrows. In such circumstances, human strength 
and courage wither away under the question, " What is a 
man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose 
his own soul ?" Now, the soul is seen in its true, intrinsic 
value — 

" the thing of greatest price 

The whole creation round." 

how much is meant by the short expression, uttered b}' a 
dying sinner, "/ have lost my soul !'' 

In the history of Ann we may perceive, that great joriv- 
ileges, if misimiwoved, do not 'prevent the loss of the soul. 
What more could have been done for her than was done ? 
Reader, you may have an abundance of the good things of 
this world ; nay, you may have pious parents and praying- 
friends ; may be a regular attendant on the preached word ; 
and at times, imder the strivings of God's Spirit, may feel 
that an interest in Christ is the one thing needful ; and, after 
all, may come unprepared to your death-bed. " A little more 
sleep, a little more slumber" — so shall eternal "poverty" 
overtake thee "as an armed man." Amid the wailings in 
hell is heard the lamentation, " How have I hated instruc- 
tion and despised reproof!" "If I had not come and 
spoken unto them," says Christ, "they had not had sin; 
but now they have no cloak for their sin." To the rich 
man in the parable it was said, " Remember that thou in 
thy lifetime receivedst thy good things ;" " but" noiu " thou 
art tormented." 

Conscious security ivill not ^?rfye?i^ the loss of the soul. 
Ann never felt more safe than the moment before she was 
seized by her mortal malady. In her estimation the evil 
hour was far away; while, in fact, the Judge was "stand- 
ing at the door." " When they shall say, Peace and safety, 
then sudden destruction cometh." " Soul, thou hast much 
goods laid up for many years," said one. " Thou fool," 
said God, "this night thy soul shall be required of thee." 
plead not, as the evidence of safety, that stupidity which, 
unless removed, insures your ruin. Sinners often dance, 
and jest, and laugh, on the brink of everlasting woe. To- 
niglit, they eat and drink, and are merry — to-morrow, their 



THE LOST SOUL 3 

souls are lost for ever. Reader, thou knowest not what a 
day may bring forth. 

From Ann we also learn, that an amiable temper and 
external morality will not prevent the loss of the soul. She 
had these, but what did they avail her ? While such as 
persevere in vicious courses will surely perish, it is equally 
certain that, as a basis of justification in the sight of God, a 
blameless moral life is altogether inadequate. It is a bed 
too short to stretch ourselves upon, a garment too narrow 
to cover us. Men often imagine, in their blindness, that 
they are too good to become eternal associates for the rep- 
robates in hell ; but let the commandment come, and their 
thoughts, feehngs, and pursuits be brought to the test of 
God's law, and they soon discover themselves to be " the 
chief of sinners." A self- justifying spirit is the greatest 
obstacle in the way to salvation. Christ is the Saviour of 
such only as feel themselves to he undone. " He came not 
to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance." Often do 
men go on, flattering themselves in their own eyes, until 
eternity discloses their real character, and their souls are 
lost. " Except a man be horn again, he cannot see the kino-- 
dom of God." 

To lose the soul is an evil inex2)ressihle and inconceivahle. 
wretched state ! — to bid an eternal farewell to the Bible, 
to the house of God, to the sacramental table, to the invita- 
tions of mercy, to mercy itself ; to heaven, to angels, to 
saints, to God, and to Christ ; to love, to peace, to hope, to 
all enjoyment, corporeal, mental, and spiritual ; to become 
a companion of devils and damned spirits, and a prey to 
endless remorse. Unhappy Ann ! no wonder the cold drops 
stood on her brow as she exclaimed, " I have lost my soul P' 
Reader, are you prepared to encounter this mighty, eternal 
struggle of unutterable, agonized feeling ? God grant that 
you may never know by experience the import of the ex- 
pression — a lost soul. eternity! "One night," says 
Saurin, " passed in a burning fever, or in strugg-ling in the 
waves of the sea, between life and death, appears of im- 
mense length ; it seems to the sufferer as if the sun had 
forgot its course, and as if the laws of nature itself were 
subverted. What, then, will be the state of those miserable 
victims of divine displeasure who, after they shall have 
passed through millions of millions of ages, will be obliged 



4 THE LOST SOUL. 

to make this overwhelming reflection : ' All this is only an 
atom of our misery !' What will their despair be when 
they shall be forced to say to themselves, ' Again we must 
revolve through these enormous periods ; again we must 
suffer a privation of celestial happiness — devouring flames 
again — cruel remorse again — crimes and blasphemies over 
and over again — for ever ! for ever !' " 

Said the rich man in hell, "I have five brethren — send 
Lazarus to testify unto them, lest they also come to this 
place of torment." Does not Ann herself, in the incident 
of her death, appeal to us from the eternal luorld ? I seem 
to hear her say, 

" Reader, be it your first concern to secure the salvation 
of your soul. The least delay may be followed by fatal, 
irretrievable consequences. Take warning from me. God 
has been at immense expense to prevent your ruin. Beth- 
lehem, Gethsemane, and Calvary, cry out upon you, ' Why 
will you die V ' The Spirit and the bride say. Come : let 
him that heareth, say, Come.'' You may be saved. After 
so many abused privileges and misspent years, still you may 
be saved. Harden not your heart. Throw yourself upon 
the mercy of God in Christ. 

' While God invites, how blest the day, 

How sweet the Gospel's charming sound ! 
Come, sinner, haste, O haste away, 
While yet a pard'ning God is found.' 

Soon your day of grace may terminate, suddenly, unex- 
pectedlv, for ever. Take warniny from me! To-morrow's 
sun, as it gilds the eastern heavens, may bring no light to 
you ; for your probationary sun may have set in eternity. 
Then, dying in impenitence, the lamentation will be yours, 
* The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and I am not 
saved.' I have lost my soul. Take warning from me! 
Oh, I have lost — I have lost my soul !" 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



.\o. 1374, 



THE 



SCOTSMAN'S FIRESIDE 



AX AUTHENTIC XAKKATIVE 



0(1 "■ "^ 




" From scenes like these old Scotia's grandeur springs, 
That makes her lov'd at home, rever'd abroad/' 

Ix the year 1805, durinjr the prevalence of the yellow- 
fever in New York, the late Mr. B resided a few miles 

from that city. 

On his return one evening to the domestic circle, which 
then consisted of his wife and four children, and his venera- 
ble mother-in-law, the late Mrs. , he said to Mrs. B , 

" My dear, I fear I have done what will not please you." 

Mrs. B . ■■' What is that ?" 

Mr. B . " I have met with an old school-fellow and 

countryman, and invited him to stay with us while the fever 
prevails." 

Mrs. B . " And why should I be displeased with 

that?" 



2 THE SCOTSMAN'S FIRESIDE. 

Mr. B . " Because I know that he and you will 

not agree in j^oUtics.'" 

Mrs. B . ''0, if that be all, we will avoid the 

subject." 

Mr. B . " But there is another subject on which 

you Avill be still more at variance. Mr. M has not 

only imbibed French principles in politics, but also on the 
subject of religion. He is an infidel." 

Mrs. B . ''That, indeed, is bad. How shall we 

please him, and yet observe the religious duties incumbent 
on us as a Christian family ?" 

Mr. B . " My dear, we must not omit one of them, 

and you must help me. When the hour for family worship 
arrives, you will call the family together, and we will do our 

duty as usual. Mr. M is a gentleman, and however 

he may be opposed to religion, his politeness Avill, at least, 
prevent him from ridiculing it." 

In the course of the evening Mr. M arrived, and a 

few hours were spent in pleasant conversation, and recol- 
lections of the " land of the mountain and the flood" — the 
scenes of early life. 

At the hour of nine Mrs. B rung the bell three 

times, the usual signal for calling the family together ; and 

turning to the guest, said, " Mr. M , we keep up the 

good old Scotch custom of family worship ; I hope you 
have no objection to unite with us." 

" Certainly not, madam," was his reply ; " I hope I 
may not, in the least, interfere with your domestic arrange- 
ments." 

The family assembled. 

With serious face, 

They round the ingle* form a circle wide : 

The sire turns o'er, with patriarchal grace, 
The big hall Bible, once his father's pride ; 

Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide. 
He walesf a portion with judicious care. 

And, " Let us worship God," he says, with solemn air. 

They chant their artless notes with simple guise ; 

They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim : 
Perhaps Dundee's wild warbling measures rise. 

Or plaintive Martyrs'', worthy of the name. 

* Fireside. f Selects. 



THE SCOTSMAN'S FIRESIDE. 3 

The priest-like father reads the sacred page : 
Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme ; 

How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed ; 
How he, who bare in heaven the second name, 

Had not, on earth, whereon to lay his head. 

Then kneeling down, to heaven's eternal King 

The saint, the father, and the husband prays : 
Hope springs exulting on triumphant wing, 

That thus they all shall meet in future days ; 
There, ever bask in uncreated rays. 

No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear ; 
Together hymning their Creator's praise 

In such society, yet still more dear, 
While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere. 

Cotter's Saturday Niglit. 

Mr. M knelt with the family, and on rising, ob- 
served to Mrs. B that he had not bent his knee in the 

same manner for ten years. This led to serious conversa- 
tion between him and Mrs. Graham, which was continued to 
a late hour ; he, of course, arguing against revealed relio-ion. 

Next day, and every day, the subject was renewed, with 
much pleasantry and politeness on his part, and great for- 
bearance on the part of those whose minds the Spirit of 
God had enlightened. Instead of saying, " Stand by thy- 
self, I am holier than thou," they often said to each other, 
"Who maketh us to differ?" and united in private prayer 
that God would look in compassion on their guest, and 
bless their conversation to awaken him to a sense of his sin 
and danger. 

One day, while conversing with Mrs. Graham, he re- 
marked, "I have travelled through many countries, and 
have seen many families, but never, till now, have I wit- 
nessed such perfect happiness." 

"Perhaps, sir," said the aged saint, "you never were 
with those who had an assured liope of an interest in Christ, 
and that, through his atonement, ' all things shall Avork to- 
gether for their good,' both in time and eternity." 

" No, indeed I have not, since I left the parental roof." 

One of the children, a lovely girl about tw^o years old, 
was his particular favorite, and he often walked the gar- 
den with her in his arms, entertaining her with Scottish 
melody. 



4 THE SCOTSMAN'S FIRESIDE 

When the fever had subsided, Mr. M returned to 

W , where he resided, to arrange his business previous 

to going to the West Indies to visit his brothers, with a view 
to procure aid towards embarking in the mercantile Hne. 
In the mean time it pleased God to remove by death the 
lovely olive-plant who had so often shared in his attentions. 

On his return to New York, Mr. B could scarcely 

persuade him to visit the family, as he feared that Mrs. 

B 's sorrows, on seeing him, would be renewed. He, 

however, was prevailed on, and again and again religion 
became the subject of conversation. 

As Mr. M had recently been deprived of an oiSice 

under government, his pecuniary means were slender, which 

caused Mr. and Mrs. B to add to his sea-stores such 

comforts as in those days were not furnished to ship pas- 
sengers ; and each determined to add provision for the soul 
as well as the body. Mrs. B put up a small pocket- 
Bible, with references in the blank leaf to appropriate texts ; 
Mrs. Graham added "The Rise and Progress of Religion 

in the Soul ;" and Mr. B , " The Refuge," with a long 

letter, superscribed, " Not to he opened till out at sea^ 

Many months elapsed before the family heard from Mr. 

M , but he was often remembered at the throne of 

grace, and his three friends derived some consolation from 
the recollection that, during his last visit, he had appeared 
more serious, and had courted religious conversation. At 

length Mr. B received a letter from Mr. M , dated 

at G , at the close of which he remarked that he never 

expected to be as happy as they, for his past life had been 
spent in such a way as to deprive him of all hopes of ever 
enjoying the favor of God. 

But we will let Mr. M tell his own story. Two 

years after that period, he was again a visitor in that parlor 
where, for the first time in ten years, he bowed the knee. 
He then related to a dear departed Christian friend and 

Mrs. B , the way in which the Lord had led him, until 

he found " peace in believing." His account was substan- 
tially as follows : 

"There," said he, pointing with his finger, "there, on 
that spot, I bowed the knee in complaisance to man, while 
my heart was filled with enmity against God ; and 0, the 
long-suffering and compassion of that God, who of such a 



THE SCOTSMAN'S FIRESIDE. 5 

rebel has made a child of grace. The moment I found my- 
self on my knees, early associations crowded on my mind ; 

I did not hear a word of Mr. B 's prayer, for I was 

immediately, in idea, transported back to similar scenes un- 
der my father's roof. 

" I arose from my knees as if waking from a dream ; 
and from that hour I have found myself often mentally ask- 
ing the question, * If the Bible, after all, should be true, 
what must become of me V 

" When it pleased God to remove by death your lovely 

R , I was filled with anger. ' Is this the God so often 

extolled for his mercy and justice?' I said with myself; 
* does he thus reward those who faithfully serve him V I 
felt that I could have torn him from his throne ; and when 
I visited the city a few weeks after, I feared to call on you, 
lest the presence of one who so fondly loved your darling, 

should renew your grief; but Mr, B insisted, saying, 

' Go, my friend, and see the consolation religion affords in 
time of trouble.' 

'' Every time I visited you, and conversed with Mrs. 
Graham, I felt that there must be some source from which 
Christians derive happiness, of Avhich I was ignorant. I 
did not avoid religious conversation, and generally left your 
family with a painful feeling that all my golden expecta- 
tions of happiness connected with ' liberty and equaUty,' 
and man's perfectability, must soon pass away : and that I 
must yield the palm of discovery to those Avhom I had 
often made the jest of revelry, and let that volume which 
I had considered only as ' old wives' fables,' take the place of 
infidel writers. ' Miserable comforters' I had found them all. 
Still, however, I felt irresolute as to my future conduct. 

" When at sea, I read Mr. B 's letter, and looked 

into the books that accompanied it. Every word I read 
condemned me ; and I saw that I was a wretched, guilty 
sinner, at the mercy of an offended God. But to become 
relio-ious would mar my worldly prospects. I feared 'the 
world's dread laugh,' when again I should meet my former 
associates. I had no time to retrace my steps, and I there- 
fore continued in the same course. I took the letter and 
books, iind pushing them out of sight at the bottom of my 
trunk,' I determined to banish all thoughts of religion from 
my mind. 

VOL. VITI. 19 



6 THE SCOTSMAN'S FIRESIDE. 

" I succeeded in mj object in the West Indies, and re- 
turned to W , from which place I wrote to Mr. B , 

to inform him of my phins. Before closing my letter, I 
thought ' 1 must add something on the subject of religion, 
to please tliose good people, who are certamly the kindest 
enthusiasts^- I ever knew.' 

" What I said called forth another letter from Mr. 

B . He did not suspect my hypocrisy, but viewed me 

as one convinced of sin, and anxious to know what I should 
' do to be saved.' He advised me to procure Saurin's Ser- 
mons, and read that ' On the Compassion of God.' But it 
was far from my intention to comply with his request ; and 
only that part of his letter that related to worldly prospects 
was attended to. I continued to associate with the gay, care- 
fully concealing the fearful doubts and forebodings w^hich 
often haunted my mind while partaking in their revels. 

" Shortly after, I made one of a party to attend a grand 
ball at A . We dined at a tavern, and the glass circu- 
lated till the festive scene of the evening commenced. The 
excitino- influence of dancino-, added to that of wine, caused 
me to fly rather than dance, and by some means to me un- 
accountable, I fell and broke my arm. A young physician, 
one of the party, set it ; and while the gay revellers re- 
turned to their homes, I was carried to the upper story of 
the building, where I passed a sleepless night, under the 
excitement of fever, aggravated by an alarmed and awaken- 
ed conscience. 

" Again early associations recurred to my mind, espe- 
cially the slighted admonitions of a pious mother, blended 
with the remembrance of her soothing attentions in child- 
hood, when laid on a sick bed. And ' 0, that I knew where 
I could find that God whose consolations she and my New 
York friends enjoy in time of trial !' was my earnest cry. 

" Uj arm not being properly set, had again to be broken 
and reset, which made my confinement much longer than it 
would otherwise have been. I sent for Saurin'sSermons, 
and found consolation in reading the sermon recommend- 
ed by Mr. B . I carefully read Doddridge's Rise and 

Progress, every word of which seemed to accord with the 

* Perhaps the epithet enthiisiasf grated on his mind, like coivard 
on that of the duellist, and hushed the " still small voice of con- 
science." 



THE SLOTriMAN'ri FIRE.SIDE. 7 

state of my mind. I opened my long-neglected Bible. I 
saw that I was ruined by sin ; justly condemned ; and that 
there was no salvation except ' through the redemption that 
is in Christ Jesus/ in whom God could be 'just, and the 
justifier of him that believeth.' Into the arms of that Re- 
deemer I was enabled to throw myself. I left my room, 
humbly trusting I had an advocate with my offended Father, 
in Christ Jesus ; and cordially relying on his righteousness, 
I was freed from the awful dread of a judgment to come. 

'' I returned to W , determined to break off from 

the world and my former associates ; and now, * clothed 
and in my right mind,' never to quit the feet of Jesus. 

"A few weeks after, hearing that the communion was 

to be dispensed at A , I resolved that the scene of my 

former folly should first witness my deep repentance, and 
my humble trust in that Saviour I had so long rejected. 
There I publicly devoted myself to him, and partook of the 
symbols of the broken body and shed blood of him ' who 
loved me, and gave himself for me.' 

" And now, my friends, will you not help me to bless 
and magnify the name of God, who thus took me from ' the 
horrible pit' of infidelity, and * the miry clay' of worldli- 
ness and sin, and set my feet upon the ' Rock of ages ?'" 

]\Xr, M , during the Avhole of his subsequent life, 

proved his faith by his works. Prayer-meetings, Sabbath- 
schools, plans for ameliorating the condition of the poor, 
and all the benevolent objects of the day, shared his atten- 
tion. He became an officer in the church, and by his phi- 
lanthropy obtained the name of the Howard of G n. 

His constitution, never very robust, gave way about the 
age of forty, when he departed in peace. 

Two of his three friends have since joined him — he who, 
like Abraham, " commanded his children and his household 
after him ;" and the mother in Israel, who saw her chil- 
dren's children following her steps, and ''who, being dead, 
yet speaketh." 

Reader, hast thou, like the subject of this narrative, 
imbibed infidel i^rinciples ; does the Bible — if, indeed, thou 
hast one — lie unopened ; do thy knees never bend to the 
God who made thee ? Be instructed by the history of Mr. 
M , and weary not thyself seeking happiness where 



3 THE SCOTSMAN'S FIRESIDE. 

thou seest he never found it. Take down thy long-neg- 
lected Bible. Turn to Psalm 14:1, and read the charac- 
ter of him who "hath said in his heart, There is no GodT 
Then turn to those precious words, Isaiah 55 : 6, 7, " Seek 
ye the Lord while he may be found ; call ye upon him- 
while he is near. Let the wicked forsake his way, and the 
unrighteous man his thoughts ; and let him return unto the 
Lord, and he will have mercy upon him ; and to our God, 
for he w411 abundantly pardon." 

Is the reader ^^oo?- .^ And dost thou think thou hast no 
time to read thy Bible or to attend to the interests of thy soul ? 
Turn to Psalm 127 : 1, 2, and thou wilt see that without the 
blessing of God, "it is in vain for thee to rise up early, to sit 
up late, and to eat the bread of sorrows." Then turn to Mat- 
thew 6 : 33, and immediately comply with thy Saviour's 
command : " Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his right- 
eousness, and all these things shall be added unto you." 

Are these pages read by a fireside like that above de- 
scribed ; where the morning and evening worship are like a 
foundation and a covering to the dwelling ? Let the value 
of early religious impressions, illustrated in this narrative, 
incite parents and guardians, not only to be faithful to their 
own households, but by every practicable method to pro- 
mote the religious improvement of all the rising generation — 
contributing to Sabbath and infant-schools, and all charities 
for the ignorant and destitute, time, talents, and substance, 
according as the Lord hath given them. 

Let this narrative also encourage the friends of the Re- 
deemer to be faithful to those w^ho may seem farthest from 
the kingdom of God. Let them remember in their prayers 
and their kind Christian endeavors, the rich, the infidel, the 
gay, and the iwoud. On all suitable occasions, and in a 
proper manner, let the truths of the Gospel be pressed even 
on their hearts ; and let them be exemplified and commend- 
ed, by a uniformly meek, consistent, and Godly example. 

Reader, whoever you are, while you reject the Gospel, 
you " spend money for that w^hich is not bread, and your 
labor for that which satisfieth not." Hear, then, and ac- 
cept the invitation, Isaiali 55 : 1, "Ho, every one that 
thirsteth, come ye to the waters ; and he that hath no 
money, come ye ; yea, come, buy wine and milk, without 
money and without price." 



No. 375. 

THE AMIABLE LOUISA. 



FROM "THE YOUXG CHRISTIAX. 



The circumstances related in the following narrative are of 
recent occurrence, and the reader may rely upon the strict truth 
and faithfulness of the description. 

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

Louisa — for by that name I shall call her — manifest-ed 
no particular hostility to religion, but wished to Hve a gay 
and merry life till just before her death, and then to become 
pious and die happy. She was constant in her attendance 
at church, and while others seemed moved by the exhibi- 
tion of the Saviour's love, she seemed entirely miaffected. 
Upon whatever subject I preached, her countenance retained 
the same marks of indifference and unconcern. The same 
easy smile played upon her features, whether sin or death, 
or heaven or hell, was the theme of discourse. One even- 
ing I invited a few of the young ladies of my society to 
meet at my house. She came with her companions. I had 
sougiii; the interview with them, that I might more directly 
urge upon them the importance of religion. All in the 
room were affected — and she, though evidently moved, en- 
deavored to conceal her feelings. 

The interest in this great subject manifested by those 
present was such, that I informed them that I would meet, 
in a week from that time, any who wished for personal con- 
versation. The appointed evening arrived, and I was de- 

VOL. Vill 19* 



2 THE AMIABLE LOUISA. 

lighted in seeing, -svith two or three others, Louisa enter my 
house. 

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

" Louisa," said I, "I am happy to see you here this 
evening, and particularly so, as you have become interested 
in the subject of religion." 
She made no reply. 

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

'' I always thought the subject important, sir, but have 
not attended to it as I suppose 1 ouoht." 

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

** I don't know, sir ; I think I want to be a Christian." 
" Do you feel that you are a sinner, Louisa?" 
" I knoiv that I am a sinner, for the Bible says so, but 
I suppose that I do not feel it enough." 

*' Can you expect that God w^ill receive you into his 
favor while you are in such a state of mind ? He has made 
you, and he is now taking care of you, giving you every 
blessing and every enjoyment you have, and yet you have 
lived many years without any gratitude to him, and contin- 
ually breaking his commandments, and now do not feel that 
you are a sinner. What would you think of a child whose 
kind and affectionate parents had done every thing in their 
power to make her happy, and who should yet not feel that 
she had done any thing wrong, though she had been every 
day disobeying her parents, and had never expressed any 
gratitude for their kindness. You, Louisa, would abhor 
such a child. And yet this is the way you have been treat- 
ing your heavenly Father, and he has heard you say this 
evening that you do not feel that you have done wrong, and 
he sees your heart, and knows how unfeeling it is. Now, 



THE AMIABLE LOUISA. 3 

Louisa, you must be lost, unless you repent of your sins, 
and ask humbly, and earnestly, for forgiveness. And why 
will you not ? You know that Christ has died to atone for 
sin, and that God will forgive you for his Son's sake if you 
trust in him." 

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

After addressing a few general remarks to my young- 
friends, we kneeled in prayer, and the interview closed. 
Another meeting was appointed on the same evening of the 
succeeding week. Louisa again made her appearance with 
the same young ladies and a few others. She appeared 
much more deeply impressed. Her coldness and reserve 
had given place to a frank expression of interest and exhibi- 
tion of feeling. 

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

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

" Do you /(?<?? that you are a sinner, Louisa?" 

" Yes, sir, I do." 

" Do you think, Louisa, you have any claim upon God 
to forgive you ?" 

" No, sir. It would be just in God to leave me to per- 
ish. I think I want to repent, but I cannot. I want to love 
God, but do not know how I can." 

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

" Yes, sir." 

" Well, Louisa, now count the cost ; are you ready to 
give up all for Christ? Are you ready to turn from your 
gay companions, and lay aside your frivolous pleasures, and 
acknowledge the Saviour publicly, and be derided, as per- 
haps you will be, by your former friends, and live a life of 
prayer and of effort to do good ?" 

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

" Well, Louisa, the terms of acceptance with God are 
plain, and there is no altering them. You cannot serve 
God and mammon. If you would be a Christian, you must 



4 THE AMIABLE LOUISA 

renounce all sin, and with a broken heart surrender your- 
self entirely to the Saviour." 

This evening's interview closed as before, and a similar 
appointment Avas made for the next week. Some of the 
young ladies present, I had reason to believe, had accepted 
the terms of salvation. The next Aveek about the same num- 
ber Avere present, but Louisa Avas not Avith them ; a slight 
cold had detained her. But the Aveek after she again ap- 
peared. To my great disappointment I found her interest 
diminishing. Though not exhibiting that cold reserve Avhich 
she at first manifested, she seemed far less anxious than at 
our last intervieAv — the Spirit Avas grieved aAvay. This Avas 
the last time she called to see me ; but alas, I was soon 
called to see her, under circumstances AA^hich, at that time, 
Avere but little anticipated. These social meetings continued 
for some time, and many of Louisa's associates, I have cause 
to hope, became the disciples of Jesus. 

Tavo or three months passed aAvay, and my various du- 
ties so far engrossed my mind that my particular interest in 
Louisa's spiritual welfare had giA^en place to other solici- 
tudes ; when one day as I Avas riding out, making parochial 
visits, one of my parishioners informed me that she Avas 
quite uuAvell, and desired to see me. In a fcAv moments I 
Avas in her sick chamber. She had taken a A'iolent cold, and 
it had settled into a feA^er. She AA^as lying in her bed, her 
cheek gloAving Avith the feverish hue, and her lips parched 
Avith thirst. She seemed agitated Avhen I entered the room, 
and the moment I stood by her bedside and inquired hoAv 
she did, she covered her face Avith both hands and burst 
into a flood of tears. 

Her sister, Avho Avas by her bedside, immediately turned 
to me and said, " Sir, she is in great distress of mind. Men- 
tal agony has kept her aAvake nearly all night. She has 
Avanted verA^ much to see you, that you might couA^erse Avith 
her." 

I AA'as fearful that the agitation of her feelings might 
seriously injure her health, and did all I consistently could 
to soothe and quiet her. 

"But, sir," said Louisa, "I am sick, and may die; I 
knoAV that I am not a Christian, and Oh, if I die in this state 
of mind, Avhat Avill become of me ? What Avill become of 
me?" and she again burst into tears. 



THE AMIABLE LOUISA, 5 

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

I told her that the Lord was merciful and ready to par- 
don ; that he had given his Son to die for sinners ; and was 
more ready to forgive than we to ask forgiveness. 

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

I told her of the Saviour's love. I pointed to many of 
God's precious promises to the penitent. I endeavored to 
induce her to resign her soul calmly to the Saviour. But 
all was unavailing. Trembling and agitated, she was look- 
ing forward to the dark future. ■ The Spirit of the Lord had 
opened her eyes, and through her own reflections had led 
her into this state of alarm. I knelt by her bedside and 
fervently prayed that the Holy Spirit would guide her to 
the truth, and that the Saviour would speak peace to her 
troubled soul. could they who are postponing repent- 
ance to a sick-bed have Avitnessed the suffering of this once 
merry girl, they would shudder at the thought of trusting 
to a dying hour. How poor a time to prepare to meet God, 
when the mind is enfeebled, when the body is restless or 
racked with pain, and when mental agitation frustrates the 
skill of the physician. Yet so it is. One half the world are 
postponing repentance to a dying bed. And when sickness 
comes, the very circumstance of being unprepared hurries 
the miserable victim to the grave. 

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

" And can vou not, Louisa," said I, " trust vour soul 



6 THE AMIABLE LOUISA. 

with the Saviour who died for 3^ou ? He has said, ' Come 
unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will 
give you rest.' " 

" Oh, sir, I know the Saviour is merciful, but somehow 
or other I cannot go to him, I know not Avhy — Oh, I am 
miserable indeed." 

" Do 3"ou think, Louisa, that you are penitent for sin? 
If you are, you are forgiven ; for God who gave his Son to 
die for us, is more ready to pardon than we to ask for- 
giveness. He is more ready to give good gifts to the pen- 
itent than any earthly parent to give bread to his hungry 
child." 

I then opened the Bible at the 15th chapter of Luke, 
and read the parable of the prodigal son. I particularly 
directed her attention to the 20th verse : " When he was 
3'et a great way off his father saw him, and had compassion, 
and ran, and fell upon his neck, and kissed him." 

" Oh, sir," said she, '' none of these promises are for me. 
I find no peace to my troubled spirit. I have long been 
sinnino- ao-ainst God, and now he is summonino; me to ren- 
der up my account; and Oh, what an account have I to 
render ! The doctor gives me medicine, but I feel that it 
does no good, for I can think of nothing but my poor soul. 
Even if I w^ere perfectly well, I could hardly endure the 
view Avhich God has given me of my sins. If they were 
forgiven how happy should I be ! but now — Oh !" — her 
voice was stopped by a fit of shuddering, w^hich agitated 
those around her with the fear that she mio-ht be dvinor. 
Soon, however, her nerves Avere more quiet, and I kneeled 
to commend her spirit to the Lord. 

As I rode home, her despairing countenance was un- 
ceasingly before me. Her lamentations, her mournful 
groans were continually crying in my ears. As I kneeled 
with my family at evening, I bore Louisa upon my heart to 
the throne of grace. All night I was restlessly upon my 
pillow dreaming of unavailing efforts at this sick-bed. 

Another morning came. As I knocked at the door of 
her dwelling I felt a most painful solicitude as to the an- 
swer I might receive. 

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

" She is fast failing, sir, and the doctor thinks she can- 



THE A.MIABLE LOUISA. 7 

not recover. We have just sent for her friends to come and 
see her before she dies." 

'' Is her mind more composed than it has been ?" 
" no, sir. She has had a dreadful night. She says 
that she is lost, and that there is no hope for her." 

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

I had already said all that I could to lead her to the 
Saviour — but no Saviour cast his love on this dying bed — 
no ray of peace cheered the departing soul. Youth and 
beauty were struggling with death ; and as that eye which 
but a few days before had sparkled with gayety, now gazed 
on eternity, it was fixed in an expression of despair. 

" By many a death-bed I had been, 
And many a sinner's parting seen, 
But never aught like this." 

There was nothing that could be said. The moanings 
of the sufferer mingled with the prayer, which was almost 
inarticulately uttered, from the emotions which the scene 
inspired. 

Late in the afternoon I called again. But her reason 
was gone, and in restless agony she was grappling with 
death. Her friends were standing around her, but she did 
not recognize them. Every eye in the room was filled with 
tears, but poor Louisa saw not, and heeded not their weep- 
ing. It was a scene which neither pen nor pencil can por- 
triiy. At the present moment that chamber of death is as 



8 THE AMIABLE LOUISA. 

vividly present to my mind as it was when I looked upon it 
through irrepressible tears. I can now see the disorder of 
the dying bed — the restless form — the swollen veins — the 
hectic burning cheek — the eyes rolling wildly around the 
room — and the weeping friends. Who can describe such a 
scene ? And who can imagine the emotions which one must 
feel who knew her history, and who knew that this delirium 
succeeded temporal, and perhaps preceded eternal despair ? 
Louisa could no longer listen to my prayers ; she could no 
longer receive the precious instructions of God's word. And 
what could be said to console her friends ? Nothing. " Be 
still, and know that I am God," was all that could be said. 
I could only look and listen with reverence, inwardly pray- 
ing that the sad spectacle might not be lost upon any of us. 
For some time I lingered around the solemn scene in silence. 
Not a word was spoken. All knew that death was near. 
The friends who were most deepl}^ affected struggled hard 
to restrain the audible expression of grief. In silence I had 
entered the room, and in silence and sadness I Avent away. 

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

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

" At what time did she die ?" 

" About midnight, sir." 

" Was her reason restored before her death ?" 

*' It appeared partially to return a few moments before 
she breathed her last, but she was almost gone, and we 
could hardly understand what she said." 

" Did she seem any more peaceful in her mind ?" 

" Her friends thought, sir, that she did express a will- 
ingness to depart, but she Avas so weak and so far gone 
that it was impossible for her to express her mind Avith an}?- 
clearness." 

This is all that can be said of the eternal prospects of 
one who " ivished to live a gay and merry life till just 
hefore death, and then to become 2>ioiis, and die happyT 
Reader, 

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



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



nro. 276. 

BIBLE ARGUMENT 

FOR 

TEMPERANCE. 



BY REV. AUSTIN DICKINSON. 



The Bible requires us to " present our bodies a living- 
sacrifice, holy and acceptable unto God ;" to " purify our- 
selves, even as he is pure ;" to " give no occasion of stum- 
bling to any brother;" to "give no offence to the church 
of God;" to "love our neighbor as ourselves;" to "do 
good to all as we have opportunity ;" to "abstain from all 
appearance of evil ;" to " use the world as not abusing it ;" 
and, " whether we eat or drink, or whatsoever we do, to do 
all to the glory of God." 

A Being of infinite benevolence could not prescribe 
rules of action less holy, and they are " the same that shall 
judge us in the last day." Any indulgence, therefore, not 
consistent with these rules, is rebellion against the great 
Lawgiver, and must disqualify us for " standing in the judg- 
ment." 

As honest men, then, let us try by these rules the com- 
mon practice of drinking or selling intoxicating liquor. 

The use of such liquor, instead of enabling us to " pre- 
sent our bodies a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable," 
actually degrades, and prematureUj destroys both body and 
mind. Dr. Rush, after enumerating various loathsome dis- 
eases, adds, that these are " the usual, natural, and legiti- 
mate consequences of its use." Another eminent physician 
says, " The observation of twenty years has convinced me, 
that were ten young men, on their twenty-first birthday, 
to begin to drink one glass of ardent spirit, and were they 
vol,. VIII. 20 



2 BIBLE ARGUJIEXT FOR TEMPERAN-CE. 

to drink this supposed moderate quantity daily, the lives of 
eight out of the ten would be abridged by ten or fifteen 
years." When taken freely, its corrupting influences are 
strikingly manifest. And even when taken moderately, very 
few now pretend to doubt that it shortens life. But nothing 
can be clearer, than that he who thus wilfully cuts short 
his probation five, ten, or twenty years, is as truly a suicide, 
as if he slew himself violently. Or if he knowingly encour- 
age his neighbor to do this, he is equally guilty. He is, by 
the law of God, " a murderer." 

But besides prematurely destroying the body, alcoholic 
drink injures the immortal mind. To illustrate the blinding 
and perverting influence of even a small quantity of such 
liquor, let a strictly temperate man spend an evening with 
a dozen others indulging themselves " moderately :" they 
will be sure to say things which to him will appear foolish, 
if not wicked ; and which will appear so to themselves on 
reflection ; though at the time they may not be conscious 
of any impropriety. And if this "moderate indulgence" 
be habitual, there must, of course, be an increased mental 
perversion ; till conscience is " seared as with a hot iron," 
and the mind is lost to the poAver of being aff'ected by truth, 
as well as to the capacity for usefulness. And is this 
destruction of the talents God has given, consistent with the 
injunction to "glorify God in body and spirit?" 

Again, the habit of drinking is incoirqKitihle with that 
eminent holiness to ivhich you are commanded to aspire. The 
great Founder of Christianity enjoins, " Be ye perfect, even 
as your Father in heaven is perfect." This Avill be the true 
Christian's desire. And a soul aspiring to the image and 
full enjoyment of God, will have no relish for any counter- 
acting influence. 

Is it said, that for eminently holy men to "■ mingle strong 
drink" may be inconsistent; but not so for those less spir- 
itual ? This is making the want of spirituality an excuse 
for sensuality ; thus adding sin to sin, and only provoking 
the Most High. His mandate is universal : " Be ye holy, 
for I am holy." 



BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEiMPERANtE. 3 

To this end you are charged to " abstain from fleshly- 
lusts, which war against the soul ;" to "mortify your mem- 
bers, which are earthly ;" to *' exercise yourselves rather 
unto godliness;" to ''be kindly aftectioned towards all 
men." But who does not know that ''strong drink," not 
only ''eats out the brain," but "taketh away the heart," 
diminishes " natural affection," and deadens the moral sen- 
sibihties, while it cherishes those very passions which the 
Holy Spirit condemns ? And how can one aspiring to the 
divine image, drink that which thus tends to destroy all 
that is pure, spiritual, and lovely, Avhile it kindles the very 
elements of hell ? 

The use of such liquor is utterly inconsistent ivith any 
thing like high spiritual enjoyment, clear spirittml views, or 
true devotion. A sense of shame must inevitably torment 
the professor who in such a day cannot resist those " fleshly 
lusts which war against the soul ;" his brethren will turn 
from him in pity or disgust ; and, what is infinitely more 
affecting, the Holy Spirit will not abide with him. Thus, 
without an approving conscience, without cordial Christian 
intercourse, without the smiles of the Comforter, how can 
he enjoy religion ? 

Abstinence from highly stimulating liquor or food has 
ever been regarded indispensable to that serenity of soul 
and clearness of views so infinitely desirable in matters of 
religion. Hence, the ministers of religion especially, were 
commanded not to touch an}^ thing like strong drink when 
about to enter the sanctuary. Lev. 10:9. And this, it is 
added, shall be a statute for ever throughout your genera- 
tions ; that ye may put difference between holy and unholy ; 
clearly showing God's judgment of the effect of temperance 
on spiritual discernment. 

On the principle of abstinence we may account, in part, 
for that holy ecstasy, that amazing clearness of spiritual 
vision, sometimes enjoyed on the deathbed. " Administer 
nothing," said the eloquent dying Summerfield, "that will 
create a stupor, not even so much as a little porter and 
water — that I may have an unclouded view.'" For the same 



4 BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEMPERANCE. 

reason, Dr. Rush, who so well knew the effect of strong 
drink, peremptorily ordered it not to be given him in his 
last hours. And it is recorded, that the dying Sa\iour, 
" who knew all things," when offered " wine mingled with 
myrrh," ''received it not.'''' The truly wise will not barter 
visions of glory for mere animal excitement and mental stu- 
pefaction. 

Equally illustrative of our principle is the confession of 
an aged deacon, accustomed to drink moderately : " I always, 
ill prayer, felt a coldness and heaviness at heart — never sus- 
pecting it was the whiskey ! but since that is given up, I 
have heavenly communion T^ O, what an increase of pure 
light and joy might there be, would all understand this, and 
be temperate in all things.''' 

The use of such liquor is inconsistent with the sacred 
order and clisci])line of the church. A venerable minister, 
of great experience, gives it as the result of his observation, 
that nine-tenths of all the cases calling for church discipline 
have in former years been occasioned by this liquor. This 
is a tremendous fact. But a little examination will convince 
any one that the estimate is not too high. And can it be 
right to continue an indulgence that brings tenfold, or even 
fourfold more trouble and disgrace on the church than all 
other causes imited ? Do not these foul " spots in your 
feasts of charity" clearly say, "Touch not the unclean 
thinor?" Can Ave countenance that which is certain to 

CD 

bring deep reproach on the church of Christ ? '' It must 
needs be that offences come, but woe to that man by whom 
the offence cometh." 

The use of alcoholic liquor by the religious community 
is inconsistent ivith the hope of reforming and saving the 
intemperate ; and thus shows a want of love to souls. The 
Christian knows, that drunkards cannot inherit eternal life. 
He knows also, that hundreds of thousands now sustain or 
are contractino- this odious character ; and that if the e\dl 
be not arrested, millions more Avill come on in the same 
track, and go down to the burning gulf. But the man who 
drinks just so much as to make himself "feel well," cannot 



BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEMPERANCE. 5 

reprove the drunkard who only does the same thin<r. The 
drunkard may say to him, " My appetite is stronger than 
yours ; more, therefore, is necessary, in order to make me 
*feel well;' and if you cannot deny yourself, how can I 
control a more raging appetite ?" This rebuke would be 
unanswerable. 

All agree that total abstinence is the only hope of the 
drunkard. But is it not preposterous to expect him to 
abstain, if he sees the minister, the elder, the deacon, and 
other respectable men indulging their cups ? With mind 
enfeebled and character lost, can he summon resolution to 
be singular, and live more temperately than his acknow- 
ledged superiors ? — thus telling to all that lie has been a 
drunkard! This cannot be expected of poor sunken hu- 
man nature. No ; let moderate drinking be generally al- 
lowed, and in less than thirty years, according to the past 
ratio of their deaths, armies of drunkards greater than all 
the American churches, will s^o from this land of licrht and 
freedom to " everlasting chains of darkness." If, then, the 
drunkard is worth saving, if he has a soul capable of shin- 
ing with seraphim, and if you have **' any bowels of mercies,'* 
then give him the benefit of your example. Professing to 
"do good to all as you have opportunity," be consistent in 
this matter. By a little self-denial you may save multitudes 
from ruin. But if you cannot yield a little, to save fellow - 
sinners from eternal pain, have you the spirit of Him who, 
for his enemies, exchanged a throne for a cross ? 

Could all the wailings of the thousand thousands slain 
by this poison come up in one loud thunder of remonstrance 
on your ear, you might then think it wrong to sanction its 
use. But "let God be true," and those wailings are as real 
as if heard in ceaseless thunders. 

Again, the use of intoxicating drink is inconsistent with 
t}:ue Christian patriotism. All former efforts to arrest the 
national sin of intemperance have failed. A glorious effort 
is now making to remove it with pure Avater. Thousands 
are rejoicing in the remedy. ISTot a sober man in the nation 
really doubts its efficacv and importance. Who, then, that 

VOL. VIII. 20* 



6 BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEMPERANCE. 

regards our national, character can hesitate to adopt it ? Es- 
pecially, who that is a Christian, can cling to that which 
has darkened the pathway of heaven, threatened our liber- 
ties, desolated families and neighborhoods, and stigmatized 
us as a "nation of drunkards?" 

Is it said, that the influence of a small temperance so- 
ciety, or church, is unimportant ? Not so ; its light may 
save the surrounding region ; its example may influence a 
thousand churches. And let the thousand thousand pro- 
fessing Christians in this land, with such others as they can 
enlist, resolve on total abstinence — let this great example 
be held up to view — and it would be such a testimony as the 
world has not yet seen. Let such a multitude show, that 
these drinks are unnecessary, and reformation easy, and the 
demonstration would be complete. Few of the moral would 
continue the poison ; thousands of the immoral abandon it 
at once ; and the nation be reformed. 

The use of this liquor is inconsistent loith the proper in- 
fluence of Christian example. The Saviour says, " Let your 
light so shine before men, that they may see your good 
works, and glorify your Father w^ho is in heaven." But 
will men esteem Christians the more for drinking, and thus 
be led to glorify God on their behalf? Or will the Saviour 
praise them for this, "when he shall come to be glorified in 
his saints, and to be admired in all them that beheve?" 
Rather, w^ill not their drinking lead some to excess, and thus 
sully the Creator's work ? Nay, is it not certain, that if 
the religious community indulge, the example will lead 
millions to drunkenness and perdition ? And, on the other 
hand, is it not morally certain, that if they abstain, their 
combined influence will save millions from infamy and ruin ? 
How, then, in view of that day when all the bearings of 
your conduct shall be judged, can you hesitate on which 
side to give your influence ? It is not a little matter ; for 
who can conceive the results of even one impulse, among 
beings connected with others by ten thousand strings ! 

The use of this liquor is inconsistent with that harmony 
a/nd brotherly love which Christ requires in his professed 



BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEMPERANCE. 7 

folloivers. He requires them to " love one another with a 
pure heart, fervently;" to "be all of one mind ;" to be "of 
one heart and one soul." But who does not see the utter 
impossibility of this, if some continue an indulgence which 
others regard with abhorrence ? Since public attention has 
been turned to the subject, thousands have come to the full 
conviction, that to use intoxicating liquor is a sinful as well 
as foolish practice. The most distinguished lights of the 
church, and such as peculiarly adorn human nature, embrace 
this sentiment. And how can you associate with these, and 
yet continue a habit viewed by them with disgust ? Ah, 
the man, however decent, who " will have his glass, not 
caring whom he offends," must have it ; but he must also 
" have his reivard.'' " Whoso shall offend one of these little 
ones ivhich believe in me, it were better for him that a mill- 
stone were hanged about his neck." 

The use of intoxicating drink, in this day of light, is in- 
compatible loith the hope of receiving any general effusion of 
ihe Holy Spirit. Christians are allowed to hope for the 
Spirit to be poured out only in answer to prayer — true, 
spiritual, believing prayer. " If they regard iniquity in 
their heart, the Lord will not hear them." If they wilfully 
cherish sin, they cannot have faith. Indeed, how odious 
the spectacle of a company looking towards heaven, but in 
the posture of devotion breathing forth the foul, fiery ele- 
ment — literally " offering strange fire before the Lord !" 

We are not, then, to expect divine influence to come 
down "like showers that water the earth," till we put away 
that which we know tends only to wither and consume all 
the " fruits of the Spirit." 

The loaste of property in the use of alcoholic drink is 
inconsistent with faithful steivardship for Christ. Religious 
"contributions" are among the appointed means for saving 
the world. But allow each of the tens of thousands of pro- 
fessing Christians in this land only three cents worth of 
such liquor daily, and the annual cost is some millions of 
DOLLARS ; which would be sufficient to support thousands 
OF missionaries. Let "stewards" of the Lord's bounty, 



8 BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEMPERANCE. 

then, who would consume their portion of this "little'' on 
appetite, ponder and blush for such inconsistency ; and let 
them hasten to clear off the heavy charge, " Ye have rob- 
bed me, even this tvhole nation.'' 

Again, to indulge in intoxicating liquor is inconsistent 
loith attempts to recommend the Gospel to the heathen. Noth- 
ing has done more, in former years, to prejudice our Indian 
neighbors, and hinder among them the influence of the Gos- 
pel, than those liquors we have encouraged them to use. 
Several tribes have set the noble example of excluding them 
by the strong arm of law ; and it is only by convincing such 
that really consistent Christians do not encourage these evils, 
that our missionaries have been able to gain their confidence. 

The same feeling prevails in some distant heathen na- 
tions. They cannot but distrust those who use and sell a 
polluting drink, which they, to a great extent, regard with 
abhorrence. 

Suppose our missionaries should meet the heathen with 
the Bible in one hand, and the intoxicating cup in the other ; 
what impression would they make ? Nature herself would 
revolt at the alliance. And nothing but custom and fashion 
have reconciled any to similar inconsistencies at home. 

But not only must our missionaries be imspotted, they 
must be able to testify, that no real Christians encourage 
this or any unclean thing. With such testimony they might 
secure the conviction, that our religion is indeed elevating, 
and that our God is the true God. For saith Jehovah, 
*' Then shall the heathen know that I am the Lord, when I 
shall be sanctified in you before their eyes." 

Indulgence in this drink, especially by the church, is 
inconsistent with any reasonable hope that the fiood of intem- 
perance would not return iqjon the land, even should it for a 
season be dried up. The same causes which have produced 
it would produce it again, unless there be some permanent 
counteracting influence. Temperance associations ar6 un- 
speakably important as means of reformation. But they 
are not permanent bodies ; their organization may cease 
when intemperance is once done away ; and unless the prin- 



BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEMPERANCE. 9 

ciple of TOTAL ABSTINENCE be generally acknowledged and 
regarded as a Christian duty, by some great association that 
is to be 2yerpetual, it may in time be forgotten or despised ; 
and then drunkenness will again abound. Such an associa- 
tion is found only in ''the church of the living God." This 
will continue while the world stands. Let the principle of 
ENTIRE ABSTINENCE, then, be recognized by all members of 
the church, and such others as they can influence ; and you 
have a great multitude to sustain the temperance cause, 
"till time shall be no longer." And can the real Christian, 
or patriot, think it hard thus to enlist for the safety of all 
future generations ? If parents love their offspring, if 
Christians love the millions coming upon the stage, will 
they not gladly secure them all from the destroyer ? Has 
he a shadow of consistency who will rather do that, which, 
if done by the church generally, would lead millions to 
hopeless ruin ? 

The use of intoxicating drink, as an article of luxury or 
living, is inconsistent with the plain sjnrit and -precepts of 
God's word. The proper use to be made of it, is so dis- 
tinctly pointed out in Scripture, that men need not mistake. 
It is to be used as a medicine in extreme cases. '' Give 
strong drink unto him that is ready to perish.'''' Its com- 
mon use is condemned as foolish and pernicious. " Strong- 
drink is raging ; and whosoever is deceived thereby, is not 
wise.'" "They are out of the way through strong drink; 
they err in vision ; they stumble in judgment." Such pas- 
sages show clearly the mind of God with respect to the 
nature and use of this article. 

Moreover, it is said, " Woe unto him that giveth his 
neighbor drink." But does not every man who sells or 
uses this liquor, as a beverage, encourage his neighbor to 
drink, and thus contemn God's authority ? Does he not 
aggravate his guilt by sinning against great light ? And 
would he not aggravate it still further, should he charge 
the blame on the sacred word ? 0, what a blot on the 
Bible, should one sentence be added, encouraging the com- 
mon use of intoxicating liquor/ "If any man thus add, 



10 BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEMPERANCE. 

God shall add unto him the plagues that are written in this 
book." 

To encourage the manufacture of such liquors is to 
abuse the bounties of Providence. When God had formed 
man, he kindly said, " Behold, I have given you every herb 
bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and 
every tree, in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed ; 
to you it shall be for meat." God, then, it seems, intended 
men should use the fruits of the earth for food. But " they 
have sought out many inventions." And one of these is, 
to convert these " gifts of God " into a poison, most insid- 
ious in its nature, and destructive both to soul and body. 
The distiller, the vender, and the consumer, encourage one 
another in this perversion of God's gifts. And is this " re- 
ceiving his gifts with thanksgiving?" Better, infinitely bet- 
ter, to cast them at once into the fire, and say unto the Al- 
mighty, " We have no need of these." But the ingratitude 
does not stop here. When men, in abuse of the divine 
bounty, have made this poison, to give it currency, they 
call it one of the "creatures of God." With as much pro- 
priety might they call gambling establishments and mur- 
derous weapons his " creatures." But how awful the im- 
piety of thus ascribing the worst of man's inventions to the 
benevolent God ! 

For a man to persevere in making, selling, or using in- 
toxicating liquor, as an article of luxury or living, while 

FULLY KNOWING ITS EFFECTS, and pOSSeSSing THE LIGHT 

Providence has poured on this subject, is utterly incon- 
sistent with any satisfactory evidence of piety. "By their 
fruits ye shall know them." And what are his fruits. Why, 
as Ave have seen, he wilfully cuts short his own life, or the 
life of his neighbor; he wilfully impairs memory, judgment, 
imagination, all the immortal faculties, merely for sensual 
indulgence or paltry gain ; he stupefies conscience, and cher- 
ishes all the evil passions ; he prefers sordid appetite to 
pure spiritual enjoyment ; he is the occasion of stumbling 
to those for whom Christ died, and of dark reproach on the 
church ; he neglects the only means Providence has pointed 



BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEMPERANCE. H 

out for saving millions from drunkenness and perdition ; he 
wilfully encourages their downward course ; he refuses the 
aid he might give to a great national reform ; he lends his 
whole weight against this reformation ; he is the occasion 
of offence, grief, and discord among brethren; he grieves 
the Holy Spirit ; he robs the Lord's treasury ; he makes 
Christianity infamous in the eyes of the heathen ; he disre- 
gards the plain spirit of the Bible ; and, in fine, he perverts 
even the common bounties of Providence. Such are his 
fruits. And the jnan, surely, who can do all this in me- 
ridian lio'ht, while God is looking on, and widows and or- 
phans are remonstrating, does not c/ive satisfactory evidence 
of piety. He shows neither respect for God nor love to 
man. 

Let conscience now solemnly review this whole argu- 
ment by the infinitely holy law. Is it indeed right and 
scriptural to impair body and mind, to defile the flesh, 
cloud the soul, stupefy conscience, and cherish the worst 
passions ? Is it right to bring occasions of stumbling into 
the church ? Is it right to encourage drunkards ; right to 
treat with contempt a great national reform ? Is it right 
to offend such as Christ calls " brethren ;" rio-ht to o-rieve 
the Holy Spirit, and hinder his blessed influence ? Is it 
right to ''consume on lust" what would fill the Lord's 
treasury ; and right to make rehgion odious to the heathen ? 
Is it right to leave the land exposed to new floods of intem- 
perance ; to disregard the manifest lessons of God's word 
and providence ; and to convert food to poison ? Is it in- 
deed scriptural and right to sanction habits fraught only 
with wounds, death, and perdition ? Can real Christians, 
by example, propagate such heresy ? 

Let it not be suggested that our argument bears chiefly 
against the excessive use of these hquors ; for common ob- 
servation and candor will testify that the moderate use of 
the poison is the real occasion of all its woes and abomina- 
tions. Who was ever induced to taste, by the disgusting 
sight of a drunkard ? Or who ever became a drunkard, 
except bv moderate indulgence in the beginning? Indeed, 



12 BIBLE ARGUMENT FOR TEMPERANCE. 

this habit of moderate drinking is, perhaps, tenfold loorse 
in its general influence on society than occasional instances 
of drunkenness ; for these excite abhorrence and alarm, 
while moderate indulgence sanctions the general use, and 
betrays millions to destruction. never, since the first 
temptation, did Satan gain such a victory, as when he in- 
duced Christians to sanction everywhere the use of intoxi- 
cating liquor. And never, since the triumph of Calvary, 
has he experienced such a defeat as they are now sum- 
moned to accomplish. Let them unitedly pledge them- 
selves against strong drink, and by diffusing light on this 
subject, do as much to expose as they have done to encour- 
age this grand device of Satan, and mighty rivers of death 
will soon be dried up. 

In this work of light and love, then, be generous, " be 
sober, be self-denying, be vigilant, be of one mind ;" for 
the great adversary, *'as a roaring lion, walketh about." 
And possibly through apathy, or discord, or treason among 
professed friends of temperance, " Satan may yet get an 
advantage," and turn our fair morning into a heavier night 
of darkness, and tempest, and war. But woe to that man 
who, in this day of light, shall wilfully encourage the ex- 
citing cause of such evils. And heaviest woe to him who 
shall avail himself of a standing in the church for this pur- 
pose. I hear for such a loud remonstrance from countless 
millions yet unborn, and a louder still from the throne of 
eternal Justice. 

But " though we thus speak," we hope better things, 
especially from the decided followers of the Lamb, of every 
name ; " things which make for peace, things wherewith 
one may edify another, and things which accompany salva- 
tion" to a dying world. 



THE 



ETERNAL MISERY OF HELL. 



BY REV. JAMES SAURIN 



God would never threaten mankind with a punishment, 
the infliction of which would be incompatible with his per- 
fections. If the reality of such a hell as the Scriptures de- 
scribe be inconsistent with the perfections of the Creator, 
such a hell would not have been revealed. The infinite 
holiness of God will not allow him to terrify his creatures 
with the idea of a punishment which he cannot inflict with- 
out injustice ; and, considering the weakness of our reason 
and the narrow limits of our knowledge, we ought not to 
say. Such a thing is unjust; therefore, it is not revealed : 
but on the contrary, we should rather say. Such a thing is 
revealed ; therefore, it is just. 

Observe, then, the quality and the duration of the pun- 
ishments of hell. 

A privation of celestial happiness is the first idea of 
hell — an idea which we are incapable of forming fully in 
this life. We have eyes of flesh and blood— we judge of 
happiness and misery according to this flesh and blood, 
and as things relate to our families, our fortunes, our pro- 
fessions ; and we seldom think we have immortal souls. In 
the great day of retribution all these veils will be taken 
away ; darkness will be dissipated ; scales will fall from our 
eves ; the chief good will be known ; but what will be the 
condition of him, who no sooner discovers the chief good 
than he discovers also that he shall be for ever deprived of 
it. Represent to yourself a man constrained to see, and 
made by his own experience to know, that the pleasures, 
the grandeur, and all the riches of this world are nothing 



vol.. VIII. 



'il 



2 THE ETERNAL MISERY OF HELL. 

but wind and smoke ; and that true felicity consists in com- 
munion with God — in beholding his perfections and partici- 
pating his glory : or, to use emblems taken from Scripture, 
represent to yourself a man who shall see the nuptial cham- 
ber of the bridegroom — his triumphant pomp and his mag- 
nificent palace ; and who shall see all these glorious objects 
as felicities which his crimes forbid him to enjoy. What 
regrets ! what despair ! Lord of nature ! Being of beings ! 
adorable assemblage of all perfections ! Eternal Father ! 
well-beloved Son ! Holy Spirit ! glorious body of the divine 
Redeemer ! archangels ! cherubim ! seraphim ! powers ! do- 
minions ! general assembly of the first-born ! myriads of 
angels ! apostles ! martyrs ! saints of all ages and of all na- 
tions ! unfading crown ! perfect knowledge ! communion of 
a soul with its God 1 throne of glory ! fulness of joy I rivers 
of pleasure ! All Avhich I see, all which I know, and wish 
to enjoy, even while avenging justice separates me from 
you. Am I, then, for ever excluded from all your ineffable 
delights ; are you all shown to me to make me more sensi- 
ble of my misery ; and do you display so much felicity only 
to render my pain more acute, and my destruction more 
terrible ? 

Consider pcchif id sensations. To these belong all those 
expressions of Scripture — " darkness, blackness of dark- 
ness, thirst, fire, lake burning with fire and brimstone " — 
and all these to such a degree that the damned would es- 
teem as an invaluable benefit one drop of water to cool their 
tongues. Luke 16 : 24. We dare not pretend to determine 
that hell consists of material fire. But if you recollect the 
power of God to excite in our souls such sensations as he 
pleases — if to this reflection you add the thought, that Scrip- 
ture almost always employs the idea of fire to express the 
pains of hell, you will be inclined to believe that most of 
these unhappy sufferers literally endure torments like those 
w'hich men burning in flames feel, whether God act imme- 
diately on their souls, or unite them to particles of material 
fire. The yery name given in Scripture to the fire of hell. 



THE ETERx\AL MISERY OF HELL. 3 

hath something very significant in it : it is called the fire 
of Gehenna. Matt. 5 : 22. This word is compounded of 
words which signify the valley of H'mnom : this valley was 
rendered famous by the abominable sacrifices which the 
idolatrous Jews offered to Moloch. They set up a hollow 
brazen figure, inclosed their children in it, kindled fires un- 
derneath, and in this horrible manner consumed the miser- 
able infant victims of their cruel superstition. This is an 
image of hell — terrible image ! We have no need of ab- 
stract and metaphysical ideas. Who among us could 
patiently bear his hand one hour in fire ? who would not 
tremble to be condemned to pass one day in this monstrous 
machine ? and who, who could bear to be eternally con- 
fined in it — ''and yet forbid to die?" When we see a 
criminal in chains, given up to an executioner of human jus- 
tice, and just going to be burnt to death, nature shudders 
at the sight — the flesh of spectators shivers — and the cries 
of the sufferer rend their heart, and excite, in painful com- 
passion, all the emotions of the soul ! What then must it 
be to be delivered up to an executioner of divine justice ? 
What to be cast into the fire of hell ? Delicate flesh ! fee- 
ble organs of the human body ! what will you do when you 
are cast into the quick and devouring flames of hell ? 

The third idea of future punishment is that of the 
remorse of conscience. The pains of the mind are as lively 
and sensible as those of the body. The grief of one man 
who loses a person dear to him ; the inquietude of another 
afraid of apparitions and spectres ; the gloomy terrors of a 
third in solitude ; the emotions of a criminal receiving his 
sentence of death ; and above all, the agitation of a con- 
science filled with a sense of guilt, are pains as lively and 
sensible as those which are excited by the most cruel tor- 
ments. What great effects has remorse produced. It has 
made tyrants tremble ; it has smitten the knees of a Bel- 
shazzar together in the midst of his courtiers ; it has ren- 
dered the voluptuous insensible to pleasure ; and it has put 
many a hardened wretch upon the rack. It has done more : 



4 THE ETERNAL xAIISERY OF HELL. 

it has forced some, who upon scaffolds and wheels have 
denied their crimes, after a release, to confess them — to find 
out a judge — to give evidence against themselves — and to 
implore the mercy of a violent death, more tolerable than 
the agonies of their guilty souls. This will be the state of 
the damned — this will be the worm that never dies ! Con- 
science will do homage to an avenging God : it will be 
forced to acknowledge that the motives of the Gospel were 
highly proper to affect every man who had not made his 
face as an adamant — Ms forehead harder than a flint. It 
will be forced to acknowledge that the goodness of God had 
been enough to penetrate every heart — even those which 
were least capable of gratitude ; it will be constrained to 
own that the strivings of the Spirit of God had been wil- 
fully resisted ; it will be driven to own that the destruction 
of man came of himself, and that he sacrificed his salvation 
to vain imaginations, more delusive than vanity itself. The 
testimony of a good conscience hath supported martyrs in 
fire and tortures. When a martyr said to himself, I suffer 
for truth ; I bear my Saviour's cross ; I am a martyr for 
God himself ; he was happy in spite of seeming horrors. 
But when the reproaches of conscience are added to terrible 
torments, when the sufferer is obliged to say to himself, I 
am the author of my own punishment ; I suffer for my own 
sins ; I am a victim for the devil ; nothing can equal his 
horror and despair. 

A fourth idea is taken from the horror of the society in 
hell. How great soever the misery of a man on earth may 
be, he bears it with patience, when wise discourse is ad- 
dressed to him for his consolation — when a friend opens his 
bosom to him — when a father shares his sufiferings, and a 
charitable hand endeavors to wipe away his tears ; the con- 
versation of a grave and sympathizing friend diminishes his 
troubles, softens his pains, and charms him under his afflic- 
tions, till he becomes easy and happy in them. But what 
society is that in hell ? Imagine yourself condemned to 
pass all your days with those odious men who seem formed 



THE ETERNAL MISERY OF HELL. 5 

only to trouble the world. Imagine yourself shut up in a 
close prison with a band of reprobates — imagine yourself 
lying on a death-bed, and having no other comforters than 
traitors and assassins ! This is an image of hell. God, 
what a society ! tyrants, assassins, blasphemers — Satan with 
his angels — the prince of the air with all his infernal legions ! 
From all these ideas results a fifth — an increase of sin. 
As God will aggravate the sufferings of the damned by dis- 
playing his glorious attributes, their hatred of him will be 
unbounded — their torment will excite their hatred — their 
hatred will aggravate their torment. Is not this the height 
of misery ? To be filled with unmixed hate towards the 
perfect Being, the supreme Being, the sovereign Beauty — 
in a word, to hate the infinite God ! Does not this idea 
present to your mind a state the most melancholy, the most 
miserable? One chief excellence of the glory of happy 
spirits is a consummate love to their Creator. One of the 
most horrible punishments of hell is the exclusion of divine 
love. O miserable state of the damned ! In it they utter 
as many blasphemies against God as the happy souls in 
heaven shout hallelujahs to his praise. 

These are the punishments of condemned souls. It 
remains only that we consider the length and duration 
of them. But can we number the innumerable, and meas- 
ure that which is immeasurable ? Can we make you com- 
prehend the incomprehensible ; and shall we amuse you 
with our imaginations ? 

When I endeavor to represent eternity to myself, I avail 
myself of whatever I conceive most long and durable. I 
go back to the patriarchal age, and consider a life extending 
through a thousand years ; and I say to myself, All this is 
not eternity — all this is only a point in comparison of eter- 
nity. 

I go from our age to the time of publishing the Gospel ; 
from thence to the publication of the law — from the law to 
the flood, from the flood to the creation ; I join this epoch 

VOL. VIII. 21* 



(5 THE ETERNAL MISERY OF HELL. 

to the present time, and I. imagine Adam yet living. Had 
Adam lived till now, and had he lived in misery — had he 
passed all his time in fire, or on a rack — what idea must we 
form of his condition ? At what price would we agree to 
expose ourselves to misery so great ? What imperial glory 
would appear glorious, were it followed by so much woe ? 
Yet this is not eternity — all this is nothing in comparison 
of eternity. 

I go further still : I proceed from imagination to imag- 
ination, from one supposition to another ; I take the greatest 
number of years that can be imagined ; I add ages to ages, 
millions of ages to millions of ages ; I form of all these one 
fixed number, and I stay my imagination. After this, I 
suppose God to create a world like this which we inhabit: 
I suppose him creating it, by forming one atom after an- 
other, and employing in the production of each atom the 
time fixed in my calculation just now mentioned. What 
numberless asfes would the creation of such a world in such 
a manner require ! Then I suppose the Creator to arrange 
these atoms, and to pursue the same plan of arranging them 
as of creating them. What numberless ages would such an 
arrangement require ! Finally, I suppose him to dissolve 
and annihilate the whole, and observing the same method 
in this dissolution as he observed in the creation and dispo- 
sition of the whole. What an immense duration would be 
consumed ! Yet this is not eternity — all this is only a point 
in comparison of eternity. 

Associate now all these suppositions, and of all these 
periods make one fixed period ; multiply it again, and sup- 
pose yourself to pass in multiplying it a time equal to that 
which the period contains : it is literally and strictly true, 
all this is not eternity — all this is only a point in comparison 
of eternity. 

Ah me ! one night passed in a burning fever, or in 
struo-orlincr in the waves of the sea between life and death, 
appears of immense length. It seems to the sufferer as if 
the sun had forgot its course, and as if the laws of nature 



THE ETERNAL MISERY OF HELL. 7 

itself were subverted. ^NTiat, then, will be the state of 
those miserable victims of divine displeasure, who, after 
they shall have passed through the ages we have been de- 
scribing, will be obliged to make this overwhelming reflec- 
tion : All this is only an atom of our misery ! What will 
their despair be, when they shall be forced to say to them- 
selves. Again we must revolve through these enormous 
periods — again we must suff'er a privation of celestial 
happiness — devouring flames again — cruel remorse again — 
crimes and blasphemies over and over again ! For ever — 
for ever! Ah, how severe is this word, even in this life ! 
How great is a misfortune, when it is incapable of relief — 
how insupportable, when we are obliged to add for ever to 
it ! These irons for ever — these chains for ever — this prison 
for ever — ^this universal contempt for ever— this domestic 
trouble for ever ! Poor mortals, how short-sighted are you 
to call sorrows eternal, which end with your Uves ! What, 
this life— this life, that passeth with the rapidity of a iveav- 
cr's shuttle — this life, which vanisheth like a sleep ! Is this 
what you call /or ever ? Ah, absorbing periods of eternity — 
accumulated myriads of ages— these, if I may be allowed 
to speak so — these will be the for ever of the damned ! 

I sink under the weight of this subject ; and I declare, 
when I see my friends, my relations, the people of my 
charge— when I think that I, that you, that we are all 
threatened with these torments— when I see, in the luke- 
warmness of my devotions, in the languor of my love, in the 
faintness of my resolutions and designs, the least evidence, 
though it be only probable or presumptive, of my future 
misery, yet I find in the thought a mortal poison, which 
diff"uses itself into every period of my life, rendering society 
tiresome, nourishment insipid, pleasure disgustful, and life 
itself a cruel bitter— I cease to wonder that a fear of hell 
has made some melancholy, and others mad ; that it has 
inclined some to expose themselves to a living martyrdom 
by fleeing from all commerce with the rest of mankind, and 
others to suff'er the most violent and terrible torments. 



8 THE ETERNAL MISERY OF HEI.L. 

But the more terror this idea inspires, the more inex- 
cusable we are, if it produce no good fruits in us. The 
idea of eternity ought to subvert all our sinful projects. 
In order to avoid eternal misery, all should be suffered, all 
surmounted, all undertaken — sinful self should be crucified, 
and the whole man devoted in holy sacrifice to God. Let 
each moment of life expose us to a new martyrdom ; still, 
we should be happy, could we avoid the flaming sword that 
hangs over our heads, and escape the gulfs of misery which 
yawn beneath our feet. 

But remember, this life is the only time given to pre- 
vent these terrible punishments. After this life, no more 
exhortations, no more sermons, no more place for repent- 
ance. 

And think on the hrevlty of life — think there may be 
perhaps only one year granted, perhaps only one month, 
perhaps only one day, perhaps only one hour, perhaps only 
one moment, to avoid this misery ; so that, perhaps — 0, 
Lord, avert the dreadful supposition! — perhaps you may 
this very day experience all these torments. 

Finally, consider what God is now doing in your favor. 
In the plenitude of his compassion, and with bowels of 
tenderest love, he entreats and exhorts you to escape these 
terrible miseries; he conjures you not to destroy yourself; 
he saith to you, that my people would hearken imto me ! 
Be instructed, Jerusalem, lest my soul depart from thee ! 
Why, why will ye die, house of Israel ? 0, if there re- 
mained the least spark of reason in us, the image of hell 
would make the deepest impression on our souls, and give 
us no rest till we had full evidence that our feet were plant- 
ed on the everlasting Rock ! 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



IVo. 278. 

MEANS OF A REVIVAL 

BY PRESIDENT EDWARDS. 



The first duty to Avhich our attention should be directed 
is to remove stumbling-blocks. When God is revealed as 
about to come gloriously to set up his kingdom in the world, 
it is proclaimed, " Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make 
straight in the desert a highway for our God." " Cast ye 
up, cast ye up, prepare the way, take up the stumbling- 
blocks out of the way of my people." And in order to 
this, there must be confessing of faults. There is hardly 
any duty more contrary to our corrupt dispositions and 
mortifying to the pride of man ; but it must be done. Re- 
pentance of faults is, in a peculiar manner, a proper duty, 
when the kingdom of heaven is at hand, or when we espe- 
cially expect or desire that it should come ; as appears by 
John the Baptist's preaching. And if God now loudly calls 
upon us to repent, then he also calls upon us to make 
proper manifestations of our repentance. For Christians to 
act like Christians in openly humbling themselves when they 
have openly offended, brings in the end the greatest honor 
to Christ and religion ; and in this way are persons most 
likely to have God appear for them. 

Again, at such a day as this God especially calls his 
people to the exercise of meekness and mutual forbearance. 
Christ appears as it were coming in his kingdom, which 
calls for great moderation in our behavior towards all men ; 
as is evident from Phil. 4:5, " Let your moderation be 
known unto all men; the Lord is at hand :" the awe of the 
Divine majesty that appears present or approaching, should 
dispose us to it, and deter us from the contrary. For us to 
be judging one another, and showing fierceness and bitter- 



2 MEANS OF A REVIVAL. 

ness one towards another, when he who is the Searcher of 
all hearts, to whom we must all give an account, appears 
so remarkably present, is exceedingly unsuitable. Our bu- 
siness at such a time should be at home, searching ourselves, 
condemning ourselves, taking heed to ourselves. If there 
be glorious prosperity to the church of God approaching, 
those that are the most meek will have the largest share in 
it: for when Christ "rides forth in his glory and majesty, 
it is because of truth, meekness, and righteousness." And 
when God remarkably "arises to execute judgment, it is to 
save all the meek of the earth." And it is "the meek" 
that " shall increase their joy in the Lord." And when the 
time comes that God will give this lower world into the 
hands of his saints, it is " the meek " that " shall inherit the 
earth." But "with the froward, God will show himself 
fro ward." Psalm 18 : 26. 

Contrary to this meekness, is stigmatizing one another 
with odious names, which tends greatly to widen and per- 
petuate breaches. Such distinguishing names of reproach 
do, as it were, divide Christians into armies, separated and 
drawn up in battle array, ready to fight one with another, 
which greatly hinders the work of God. 

Again, there is peculiarly requisite in God's people the 
exercise of great patience in waiting on God under anij spe- 
cial difficulties and disadvantages as to the means of grace. 
The beginning of a revival of religion will naturally and 
necessarily be attended with difficulties of this nature, by 
reason of what remains of the old disease of a general cor- 
ruption of the visible church. We cannot expect that, after 
a long period of degeneracy and depravity in the state of 
the church, thinofs should all become risfht at once : it must 
be a work of time : and for God's people to be over-hasty 
and violent in such a case, being resolved to have every 
thing rectified at once, or else forcibly to deliver themselves 
by breaches and separations, is the way to hinder the very 
result they desire, and to break in pieces. The case, in- 
deed, may be such, the difficulty so intolerable, as to allow 
of no delay, and that God's people cannot continue in the 
state wherein they were without violating absolute com- 
mands of God. But otherwise, though the difficulty may 
be very great, another course should be taken. God's peo- 



MEANS OF A REVIVAL. 3 

pie should have recourse directly to the throne of grace, to 
present their difficulties before the " great Shephei'd of the 
sheep," who has the care of all the affairs of his church ; 
and while they do this they should wait patiently upon him. 
If they do so, they may expect that in his time he will 
appear for their deliverance ; but if, instead of this, they 
are impatient, and take the work into their own hands, they 
will betray their want of faith, and will dishonor God, and 
cannot have such reason to hope that Christ will appear for 
them as they have desired. They will rather have reason 
to fear that he will leave them to manage their affairs for 
themselves as well as they can ; when if they had waited 
on Christ patiently, continuing instayit in ^wayer, he would 
have appeared for them much moi'e effectually to deliver 
them. " He that believeth shall not make haste ;" and it is 
for those that are found patiently waiting on the Lord under 
difficulties, that he will especially appear when he comes to 
do great things for his church. 

What has been said thus far, has relation to our obliga- 
tions, as we would prevent the hinderance of a revival ; but 
besides these, there are things that must be done more 
directly to advance it. And here it concerns every one, in 
the first place, to look into his own heart, and see to it that 
he be a partaker of the benefits of the work himself, and 
that it be promoted in his oion soul. It is manifestly with 
respect to a time of great revival of religion that we have 
that gracious, earnest, and moving invitation proclaimed in 
Isaiah 55, " Ho, every one that thirsteth," etc., as is evi- 
dent by what precedes and what folloAvs. In the sixth 
verse, it is said, " Seek ye the Lord while he may be found ; 
call upon him while he is near." And it is with special 
reference to such a time that Christ proclaims, " I will give 
unto him that is athirst, of the fountain of the water of life 
freely." 

Especially w^e that are 7ninisters not only have need of 
some true experience of the saving influence of the Spirit 
of God upon our heart, but we need a double portion of the 
Spirit of God at such a time as this ; we have need to be as 
full of light as a glass held out in the sun ; and with respect 
to love and zeal, to be like the ano^els that are a flame of 



4 MEANS OF A REVIVAT.. 

fire. The state of the times requires a fulness of the divine 
Spirit in ministers, and we ought to give ourselves no rest 
till we have obtained it. And in order to this, I should 
think ministers, above all persons, ought to be much in 
secret prayer and fasting, and also much in prayer and fast- 
ing one with another. It seems to me it would be becom- 
ing the circumstances of the present day, if ministers in . a 
neighborhood would often meet together, and spend days 
in fasting and fervent prayer among themselves, earnestly 
seeking for extraordinary supplies of divine grace from 
heaven. 

Ministers in a special manner should act ns fellow -help- 
ers in their great work. It should be seen that they are 
animated and engaged, and exert themselves with one heart 
and soul, and with united strength, to promote the revival 
of religion ; and to this end they should often meet together, 
and act in concert. And if it were a common thing for 
ministers to join in public exercises and second one another 
in their preaching, earnestly enforcing each other's warnings 
and counsels, I believe it would be of great service. SucJi 
united zeal in ministers would have a great tendency to 
awaken attention and impress and animate the hearers, as 
has been found by experience in some parts of the country. 

Two things very essential in ministers, if they would 
greatly advance the kingdom of Christ, are zeal and resolu- 
tion. The influence and power of these to bring to pass 
great effects, is more important than can well be imagined : 
a man of but ordinary capacity "will do more with them, than 
one of ten times the ability and learning without them: 
more may be done with them in a few days or weeks, than 
can be done without them in many years. 

Zeal and courage will do much in persons of but ordi- 
nary capacity ; but especially would they do great things, 
if joined with superior abilities. If some distinguished men 
who have appeared in our nation, had been as eminent in 
piety as they were in philosophy, and had engaged in the 
Christian cause with as much zeal and fervency as some 
others have done, and with a proportionable blessing of 
heaven, they would have moved and sent a benign influence 
throuo-h the Avorld. We have many ministers and pious 
laymen in the land distinguished for talents and learning; 
they should consider how much is expected and will be 



MEANS OF A REVIVAL. 5 

required of them by their Lord and Master, and how much 
they might do for Christ, and Avhat honor and how glorious 
a reward they might receive, if they had in their hearts a 
heavenly warmth and divine zeal proportionable to their 
light. 

~ Rich men, too, have a talent in their hands, in the dis- 
posal and improvement of which they might very much 
promote the revival and advancement of religion. They 
have advantages far beyond others to do good, and lay up 
for themselves treasures in heaven. One would think that 
all our rich men who call themselves Christians, might de- 
vise or select some glorious object to accomplish with their 
money, for advancing the kingdom of their Redeemer and 
the prosperity of the souls of men, at a time of such extra- 
ordinary opportunities £or it. It seems to me, that in this 
age most of us have but very narrow, penurious notions 
of Christianity, as it respects the use and disposal of tem- 
poral goods. The primitive Christians had not such limited 
notions ; they were trained up by the apostles in another 
way. And I trust in God the days are coming, when the 
great and rich men of the world shall bring their honor and 
glory into the church, and shall, as it were, strip themselves 
to spread their garments under Christ's feet, as he enters 
triumphantly into Jerusalem ; and when those that will not 
do so shall have no glory, their silver and gold shall be 
cankered, and their garments moth-eaten : for the saints 
shall then inherit the earth, and those that honor God he 
will honor, and those that despise him shall be lightly es- 
teemed. 

If some of our rich men would give one quarter of their 
property to advance this work, they would act in some de- 
gree as if they lived for the kingdom of Christ, and as rich 
men by and by will act, who shall be partakers of the spir- 
itual wealth and glories of that kingdom. Great things 
might be done by liberal contributions for the support and 
propagation of religion; by supporting preachers eminently 
qualified by gifts and grace, in more destitute parts of the 
country ; by bringing forward young men of promising abil- 
ities, and whose hearts are full of love to Christ, for the 
ministry ; and by distributing books that are remarkably 
fitted to promote vital religion, or bearing the expense of 

VOL. vrii. 22 



Q MEANS OF A REVIVAI.. 

sending such books into various parts of the land to be 
sold.* 

But I would now proceed to mention some things that 
at such a day concern oil. 

And the first is, faHincf and 'praijer. It seems to me 
that circumstances loudly call on God's people to abound 
in this ; whether they consider the blessing already received 
in the effusions of his Spirit ; the great encouragement 
he has given to prayer in the richness and freeness of his 
grace ; or the opposition of Satan, and the many obstacles 
that must be encountered. 

It is God's will, through his wonderful grace, that the 
prayers of his saints should be one principal means of ad- 
vancing the kingdom of Christ in the world. When God 
has something very great to accomplish for his church, it 
is his will that there should precede it the extraordinary 
prayers of his people; as is manifest in Ezek. 36 : 37, "I 
will yet for this he inquired of by the house of Israel, to 
do it for them ;" together with the context. And it is re- 
vealed, that Avhen God is about to accomplish great things 
for his church, he Avill begin by remarkably pouring out the 
spirit of grace and supplication. Zech. 12:10. If, in the 
time of Christ, the devil was not cast out of a particular 
person, under a bodily possession, without extraordinary 
prayer, or prayer and fasting ; how much less should y^e 
expect that he will be cast out of the land and the world 
without it ? 

I am sensible that much has been done in duties of this 
kind, in some places ; but I do not think so much as God, 
in the present dispensations of his providence and grace, 
calls for. I think the people of God, in this land, at such 
a time as this, would be in the way of their duty to devote 
themselves three times as much as they do to fasting and 
prayer; not only, nor principally, for the pouring out of 
the Spirit on those towns or places where they reside ; but 
that God would appear for his church, and in mercy to 
miserable men, carry on his work throughout the land, and 
the Avorld of mankind, and fulfil the thmgs he has spoken 

* The standard evangelical volumes of the American Tract 
Society, are well adapted to this purpose. 



MEANS OF A REVIVAL. 7 

in his word, and for which his church has been so long 
wishing, and hoping, and waiting. They that make men- 
tion of the Lord at this day, ought not to keep silence, and 
should give him no rest till he establish, and till he make 
Jerusalem a praise in the earth. Before the first great out- 
pouring of the Spirit of God on the Christian church, which 
began at Jerusalem, the church of God gave themselves to 
incessant prayer. There is a time spoken of, wherein God 
will remarkably and wonderfully appear for the deliverance 
of his church from all her enemies, and when he will avenge 
his own elect ; and Christ reveals that this will be in answer 
to their incessant prayers, crying day and night. Luke 18:7. 
In Israel, the day of atonement, which was their great day 
of fasting and prayer, preceded and made way for the 
glorious and joyful feast of tabernacles. When Christ is 
mystically born into the world to rule over all nations, it is 
represented in Rev. 12, as being in consequence of the 
church's " crying, and travailing in birth." One thing here 
intended, doubtless, is her crying and agonizing in prayer. 

God seems now to be waiting for this from us. When 
God is about to bestow some great blessing on his church, 
he often so orders events in his providence as to show his 
church their great need of it, and thus bring them to cry 
earnestly to him. And let us consider God's present dis- 
pensations towards his church in this land : a glorious work 
of grace has been begun and carried on ; but God has suf- 
fered difficulties to arise, and yet does not wholly forsake 
the work of his hand ; there are remarkable tokens of his 
presence still to be seen ; as though he was not forward to 
forsake us, and, if I may so say, as though he had a mind 
to carry on his work, but only w^as waiting for something 
that he expected in us, as requisite in order to it. And we 
have great reason to think that one thing at least is, that 
we should further acknowledge the greatness and necessity 
of such a mercy, and our dependence on God for it, in 
earnest prayer. 

There is, perhaps, no way that Christians can do so 
much to promote the work of God, and advance the king- 
dom of Christ, as by fervent prayer. Let persons have 
ever so small advantages to do much for Christ and the 
souls of men otherwise ; yet, if they have much of the 
spirit of grace and supplication, they may have power with 



g MEANS OF A REVIVAL, 

Him that is infinite in power ; and thus a poor man in his 
cottage may exert a blessed influence all over the world. 
God is, if I may so say, at the command of the prayer of 
faith ; and in this respect is, as it were, under the power of 
his people : as princes, they have jiowev with God, and pre- 
vail. 

Finally, to promote a revival among a professing peo- 
ple, one proper means, recommended by frequent Scripture 
examples, is their solemn, public renewing their covenant 
with God. And doubtless it would greatly tend to pro- 
mote a work of grace in the land, if the congregations of 
God's people generally should do this ; if, at a proper time, 
a draft of a covenant should be made by their ministers, 
wherein there should be an express mention of those par- 
ticular duties that the people of the respective congrega- 
tions have been observed to be most prone to neglect, and 
those particular sins into which they have fallen, or of 
which they are especially in danger, whereby they may 
prevent or resist the motions of God's Spirit ; and the mat- 
ter should be fully proposed and explained to the people, 
and sufficient opportunity be given them for consideration, 
and then they should appear together, on a day of prayer 
and fasting, publicly to own it before God in his house, as 
their vows to the 'Lord. In this way, congregations of 
Christians might do that which would be beautiful, would 
honor God, and be very profitable to themselves, and the 
occasion of joy in heaven over many repenting sinners. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



Xo. 379. 



¥HAT HAVE I DONE? 



BY REV. WILLIAM NEVINS, D. D 

B ALTIMORE . 



The person into whose hand this treatise may come, is 
supposed to ask, " What have I done ?" and it is designed 
to answer his question. Let no one refuse to consider the 
answer on the ground that he knows already what he has 
done better than any one can tell him. It may appear, on 
examination, that you have yet much to learn in regard to 
what you have done. Nor let any one deny me a hearing, 
on the plea that it matters not what he has done. It mat- 
ters much ; you are a moral and accountable agent, ansAver- 
able for your conduct to God. There is a rule by which it 
should be regulated : God is the author of that rule, and 
he is the avenger of its violations. There is a conduct 
which is pleasing to him, and a conduct which is displeas- 
ing : and whether he be pleased or displeased, whether he 
smile or frown, is certainly of some consequence. 

The inquiry relates not merely to overt acts : what you 
have done, embraces what you have said, thought, and/e?^ 
as well as what you have acted ; and for all you are equally 
accountable. " The law is spiritual — the commandment is 
exceeding broad — God will bring every work into judgment, 
with every secret thmg — all a man's ways are right in his 
own eyes, but the Lord pondereth the heart — the Lord 
weigheth the spirit.'' 

This language, "What have I done?" sometimes be- 
speaks a mind utterly devoid of conviction. It asks, in a 
VOL. VIII. 22* 



2 WHAT HAVE I DONE ? 

spirit of self-justification, what evil the person has done. 
At other times it expresses the keenest sensibihty to sin. 
A person having done something, the evil nature of which 
he did not at the time fully apprehend, and the sad conse- 
quences of which he did not foresee, when afterwards he 
comes to perceive the evil and mischief of it, exclaims in 
mingled alarm and grief, " What have I done !" 

I shall consider it as the language of simple inquiry ; 
as the serious interrogation of a person willing to know 
what he hath done. And God grant that while I am an- 
swering the interrogation, '* What have I done?" it may 
become the heart-felt exclamation of each impenitent reader. 

You ask what you have done. I will tell you ; neither 
on the one hand extenuating, nor on the other exaggerating. 

1. What if you had done nothing? You say, "What 
have I done ?" meaning perhaps that you have done noth- 
ing, and supposing that this is a valid plea, a sufficient 
justification for you. But is it so ? Can I not condemn 
you on your own admission, out of your own mouth ? You 
have done nothing ! But you are required to do something 
— aye, much. You have done nothing ! Then you have 
not loved God with all your heart, nor glorified him in your 
body and spirit, which are his. If you have done nothing, 
you have broken one-half, at least, of the law of God. In 
so far as its positive requirements are concerned, you are 
guilty, according to your own confession. It was for not 
doing that the inhabitants of Meroz were cursed — " they 
came not to the help of the Lord against the mighty." 
They staid at home and minded their worldly business. 
And Christ will say, he informs us, to those on his left 
hand, in the final day, when he bids them depart from him, 
"Inasmuch as ye did it not,'' etc. And he says also, 
*'Cast ye the unprofitable servant," the servant that does 



WHAT HAVE 1 DONE ? 3 

nothing, " into outer darkness." You have done nothing! 
But to do nothing when there is so much required to be 
done, is to do evil — to do wrong — to do that which must 
cast you away for ever. You need do no more than nothing 
to insure and justify your condemnation. Strange, that 
you should expect to be justified for the very reason for 
which Christ says he will condemn men ! But, 

2. This plea, though it would not sustain you, if you 
could offer it, you cannot offer, for you have done something. 
You have not been idle. You are no mere negative charac- 
ter. You have acted under law, and in view of law, as a 
moral and accountable agent. As such, you have perform- 
ed innumerable acts, and have been the subject of number- 
less exercises of thought and feeling ; each of which acts 
and exercises has possessed a moral character, has or has 
not been conformed to the revealed rule of duty, and is 
worthy of praise or blame. It is impossible to compute 
the number of times you have acted and been exercised in 
the capacity of a moral agent and an accountable subject 
of the law of God ; and all these have been acts of obe- 
dience or of disobedience. Each exercise has been right 
or wrong. They have met the approbation of God, or pro- 
voked his displeasure. If they have been worthy of reward, 
they will be rewarded ; if of punishment, they will be pun- 
ished. Of the one or the other, they are worthy. All the 
while you have lived, God has been looking on your heart 
and life, and in view of each emotion, thought, and act, has 
smiled or frowned. 

Yes, you have done something: you have formed a 
decided character. You have laid up a large store of some- 
thing for the future ; you have done a great deal of good 
or evil ; you are very much in the right, or very far in the 
wrong : which is it ? What have you done ? 

3. You have done wrong. You have acted unreason- 



4 WHAT HAVE 1 DONE ? 

ably and unfitly. You have acted in opposition to those 
dictates of duty which come to you from within. You 
have disobeyed conscience. You have transgressed the 
law written upon the heart. 

You have done more : you have not only sinned against 
your own soul, but against God. You have disobeyed the 
Lord of conscience. You have acted contrary to his known 
will ; broken his holy, just, and good law. You have done 
all this — you cannot deny it — wrong, and thus wrong. 

4. Now, suppose you had done this but once ; suppose 
that of your innumerable acts and exercises only one was 
sinful. Even on that supposition you are guilty, condemn- 
ed, inexcusable, and undone. You cannot answer for that 
one sin. The divine law tolerates sin in no respect, and in 
no instance. " Cursed is every one that continueth not in all 
things written in the book of the law to do them. He that 
offerideth in one point, is guilty of all." Gal. 3:10; James 
2 : 10. The law of God is one, and he that breaks it in any 
part, breaks it all. The angels who kept not their first estate, 
were consigned to the place they now occupy, in chains 
and utter darkness, for doing wrong once. Did God wait 
for a second offence? Why should he? Does human law 
wait for the repetition of a crime ? In like manner Adam, 
for one offence, incurred the sentence of death. ISTow, if you 
have done wrong only once, you have done as much as de- 
throned the angels, and destroyed the father of the human 
race. If one offence ruined them, is not one enough to ruin 
you ? But I need not speak on this supposition, for, 

5. You have done wrong more than once. How many 
times in your life do you suppose that you have acted, 
spoken, thought, and felt sinfully and wrong ? So many 
times, that there is but one Being who can tell how many ; 
and he will tell, when "the books are opened" before as- 
sembled worlds. 



WHAT HAVE I DONE 1 



Some appear to think that if their wrong doings, no 
matter how many they be, do not exceed their right doings ; 
if their good deeds only outnumber by one their evil deeds, 
they have nothing to fear, and this is all that is required of 
them. For this opinion there is as little support derived 
from reason as from Scripture. There is none from either. 
It is absolute folly to think and talk thus. A man should 
be ashamed to entertain such an opinion. All analogy is 
against it. Is this all that the magistrate requires of the 
subject, or the parent of the child ; namely, that they be 
careful to maintain a proper proportion between their acts 
of obedience and their acts of disobedience, never permitting 
the latter to outnumber the former? May the subject or 
the child break this law, provided only he obey that ? Does 
not all law require universal obedience ? Did any law ever 
allow or excuse its own transgression in any respect or in- 
stance ? There is not a government or society of any kind 
existing among men, having laws or rules for its regulation, 
which does not require the strict observance of all its rules 
by its every member. It punishes every breach of each rule. 
It does not wait till more than half of them are broken. 

Yet men expect that the great and jealous God will 
allow them to treat his holy, just, and good law, as no other 
law was ever allowed to be treated. And all the hope which 
many have is built on this expectation. Standing on this 
foundation, they are looking forward to the prospect of meet- 
ing God, with a calmness and confidence that nothing seems 
capable of disturbing. They acknowledge they have sinned, 
and they do not pretend that they have repented and secured 
an interest in the atonement. They have not, they suppose, 
sinned enough for that. It is not every sin, according to 
their notion, that renders repentance and a satisfaction ne- 
cessary ; but only the surplusage of sin, if any there should 
be, after their good doings are subtracted from their evil 



6 WHAT HAVE I DONE ? 

ones ! Into what absurdity and folly, not to say aggravated 
guilt, will erring mortals plunge. Sin first infatuates, then 
destroys them. It begins with making fools of them, and 
ends with making them ivretches. 

You perceive, then, that it would avail nothing, though 
you could maintain the ground, that your right doings out- 
number your wrong doings. But even this ground, were it 
available, you cannot maintain. For, 

6. You have not done more good than evil — more right 
than wrong. I know it is an astounding and unpalatable 
sentiment that I am about to advance ; but it has the rec- 
ommendation of being true, if it is not popular. You may 
disbelieve it, but you cannot disprove it. It is this : instead 
of having done more good than evil, if you are not now a 
penitent, a believer in Christ, a new creature, you have, so 
far as your moral nature is concerned, done no good — you 
have done nothing right. Your moral acts and exercises 
have been all of one kind, and all evil, all ivrong. When 
this is said, it is not meant that your acts have been evil and 
wrong in every sense of those words. Right and good, 
accordino- to the subordinate sio-nification of those words, it 
is not disputed that you have done ; but in the most impor- 
tant sense of the words, their scriptural sense, that sense of 
them in which they will be explained by God and under- 
stood in the day of judgment, and that is the true sense of 
them, you have done " only evil," and that " continually." 
This assertion, though clothed with divine authority, may 
give offence ; but examine it carefully, remembering with 
whom you have to do. 

Right is that which is conformable to the rule ivhich God 
has given for the regulation of human conduct ; that con- 
formity, liaving for its spring and principle the love of God, 
and for its object his glory. Now, though you have acted 
in some things agreeably to the revealed rule of God ; yet 



WHAT HAVE I DONE? 7 

has your motive been his love, and your aim his glory ? It 
is quite possible to do things required by the law of God, 
and yet render no acceptable obedience to that law ; for 
they may be done without any respect for the law ; done 
for other reasons than that God requires them ; or done 
rather from fear than love. To do right, is to do what God 
requires, because he requires it, at the suggestion of love, 
and Avith a desire to glorify him. To do good, is to do what 
is pleasing to God ; but " Avithout faith it is impossible to 
please him." There are no truly good works, according to 
the Scripture, but those unto which we are "■ created in 
Christ Jesus." "They that are in the flesh," that is, in an 
imregenerate state, " cannot please God." *' I know that in 
me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing." And it 
stands to reason that repentance, in the case of the sinner, 
must go before all acceptable obedience, and that all good 
in him must be the fruit and consequence of repentance. 
In the case of the rebelling subject or child, after the first 
act of rebellion and disobedience, it is all rebellion and diso- 
bedience up to the moment he repents and makes his sub- 
mission. So it is Avith all who rebel against God. 

Well then, it appears you have done wrong, and nothing 
hut wrong. You have done a great deal, and it has all 
been evil. All the entries under your name, in the book of 
God's remembrance, are on one side. The other side is a 
blank. You will never have any thing of your own to be 
entered there ; and the obedience of the great Surety is not 
entered to your account, because you have not believed on 
him, and with all your heart confided in him as your Surety. 
So the case stands. This is what you have done. And 
now, 

Consider to whom you have done it — to God, the great, 
blessed, and benevolent God, your Creator, Preserver, and 
Benefactor. You have broken his law, which is holy, just, 



8 WHAT HAVE I DONE 7 

and good ; have transgressed his commandments, which are 
not grievous ; and have refused to render to him that which 
is your reasonable service. 

Consider under what circumstances you have done it ; 
circumstances of light and love ; in despite of exhortation 
and command, admonition and entreaty, promise and threat- 
ening, judgment and mercy ; with heaven open to allure 
you, and hell uncovered to alarm you, and the cross of the 
Son of God in full view before you ; you have acted wrong, 
with every inducement to act right. 

Consider also the evils involved in such doings, under 
such circumstances ; the presumption and rebellion, the 
impiety and injustice, the folly and madness, the baseness 
and daring, but above all, the ingratitude of having, under 
such circumstances, acted as you have acted towards God. 

The ingratitude ! There never was such a case of in- 
gratitude before, and I suppose there never could be another 
like it. God never so loved any other Avorld as to give his 
only-begotten Son to die for its inhabitants. Such good- 
ness does not exist to lead other sinners to repentance. 
They have no such love to despise. They have no hlood of 
atonement to tread under foot. They cannot be so ungrate- 
ful. The intervention of the Son of God to save rebel man, 
renders his case 2'>€culiar, and will render his condition here- 
after peculiar. He will rise to the highest in heaven, or 
sink to the lowest in hell. He is the only sinner that ever 
received a call to repent and return. God never before 
sought to woo back a wandering soul to him. But for you, 
man, he has bowed his heavens and come down. He has 
sent his Son after you. And what have you done ? How 
have you requited God's gift of his Son ? How have you 
met the mercies of redemption ? How have you treated 
Christ? Has his story interested you? Has his cross 
attracted you ? Have you stopped and gone near to see 



WHAT HAVE I DONE 1 9 

and sympathize in those unparalleled sorrows, of which you 
"were the author as well as the object ? For he, who died 
for you, died also hy you. Have you ever looked on him 
whom you pierced, and mourned ? Have you given to him 
your heart ? and are you living now to him who died for 
you ? Alas, has he not been despised and rejected of you? 
Have you not passed by him, even if you have done no 
more? 

But some, to all else they have done, are adding this, 
the last and worst they can do, the resisting and grieving of 
the Holy Ghost. Art thou one of them ? They counter- 
work the divine Spirit, who strives with them. God comes 
on a visit of mercy to them, and whispers in the ear of the 
soul, of pardon and heaven ; but they say, " Depart from 
us ; we desire not the knowledge of thy ways. Who is the 
Lord, that we should obey him ?" And he departs, per- 
haps ; for he says, " Be instructed, O Jerusalem, lest my 
soul depart from thee. My Spirit shall not always strive 
with man." What then ? What is their history after that ? 
I know not ; but this I know, a dark death and a deep and 
desperate damnation are the subjects of the last chapter. 

Sinner, there is one piece of advice that, as a friend, I 
■would give you. It is, whatever you do, " Quench not the 
Spirit." You may do any thing but that, and your case 
not be desperate. But if you quench the Spirit, there re- 
mains no hope ; there is no refuge left ; there is no fourth 
person in the Godhead to undertake the case of the sinner 
who has wilfully put away from him the light and fire 
of the divine Spirit. Art thou grieving him ? Beware ! 
Another hour — another moment — and he may depart for 
ever ! 

I have told you what you have done. Let me now urge 
you to consider the consequences of having done so ; the 
great guilt vou have incurred, the deep and virulent de- 
vor.,. viir, '?3 



10 WHAT HAVE 1 DONE 1 

pravity you liave contracted, the tremendous wrath you 
have treasured up for yourself, and the utter ruin you have 
entailed on soul and body, for time and for eternity. In 
doing what you have done, you have destroyed yourself; 
you have forfeited the divine favor, and lost the divine like- 
ness. The privilege and dignity of being a child and heir 
of God are gone from you ; and peace is gone, and purity 
is gone, and freedom, and honor, and all but just one only 
hope is gone, and that is going, and unless you lay hold of 
it will soon be gone, never to return. You have blasted 
your prospects for eternity. You have caused a blight to 
come over the beauty and fruitfulness of the soul. You 
have lost all that was worth having, and have got in ex- 
change nothing but what it is as much your interest as your 
duty to give up. 

You have done w^hat to vmdo constituted a problem that 
baffled all created minds. You have done what to undo 
required a special interposition from the adorable Trinity, 
and from the Son of God exacted suffering the deepest and 
most dreadful. 

In fine, you have done, sinner, so rmich that it is 
necessary you should do something more. And do you ask 
me what it is ? Dost thou, in view of what thou hast clone, 
ask what thou must do? I am glad to hear that ques- 
tion ; it indicates returning reason. I will briefly answer it. 
And, 

First. You must do something — you must act; you 
will never be saved without your own agency. When the 
jailer asked this question, did Paul and Silas say, "Do 
nothing ; wait — wait God's time ?" A time, by the way, 
which cannot be ivaited for, because it has come already. 
It is noiv. 

Secondly. What you do, you must do quicJcly. The 
command of God urffes vou to immediate action. The dif- 



WHAT HAVE I DONE ? H 

ficulty of the work urges you. The uncertainty of life 
urges you. The ever-increasing hardness of the unregen- 
erate heart affords another argument for doing immediately 
what you find to do. " Behold, now is the accepted time ; 
behold, now is the day of salvation." 

Thirdly. You cannot be saved by doing any thing 
w^hich you may choose to do, aside from what God com- 
mands you to do. No amount of unauthorized effort will 
avail you any thing. 

Fourthly. You may do many things which the word of 
God approves, and even enjoins, and yet never be saved ; 
for no one of them may be that specific thing to which the 
promise of salvation is made. 

Fifthly. There is only one thing that you can do to 
secure your salvation. You will be disappointed if you 
expect to be saved by doing many things. One act, one 
single exercise, is the indispensable requisite to salvation. 
What is it? 

Sixthly. That which you do in order to he saved, is not 
to make an atonement for sin, nor is it to acquire, yourself, 
a title to heaven : it is not any act whereby you may make 
yourself better, or recommend yourself to God. There is 
nothing expiatory, meritorious, or commendatory in what 
you are required to do. The object of the act is not lo 
make atonement, but to receive an atonement already made. 
It is not to do something for yourself, but to avail yourself 
of what another has done for you. 

Seventhly. It is no external act or movement that is re- 
quired. It is an act of the soul — a single, confiding act of 
the soul, the object of the confidence being Christ Jesus. 
There are two things presupposed as necessary to this act, 
viz., a sense of your need of him, and an apprehension of 
his suitableness and sufficiency for you. These existing, 
you have nothing to do that you may be saved, but heartily 



12 WHAT HAVE I DONE ? 

to trust in him. " Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and 
thou shalt be saved." Exercise a confiding faith in him, 
and all is done. Cease to do any thing for yourself, except 
cordially to trust Christ to do every thing for you. 

This is what you must do. Now do it. It is reason- 
able that you should. Christ is altogether worthy of your 
confidence. He is able to save, and he is willing. He 
offers himself to you — he presses himself upon you. Re- 
ceive him, and you are saved. Do not be confounded by 
the very simplicity of the requirement. Do not say, " Can 
this be all ?" I assure you it is all. And there is nothing 
to be done in preparation for doing this. If you know that 
you are a sinner, and believe that Chiist is a Saviour, then 
as a sinner trust in that Saviour. And you can do it noio 
as well as at any other time ; yea, tetter. The duty will 
never be different from what it now is — ^never easier. Will 
you do it noio ? Now, while God waits to be gracious, and 
Jesus stands with arms extended and with open heart to 
receive you ; and the blessed Spirit striveth with you ; now, 
when all things are ready, and all circumstances favor; 
now, in the strength of God, will you do it? What is 
your decision ? It is known in heaven. It is recorded 
there. 

Note. — A premium of fifty dollars, offered by a friend was 
awarded to the author of this Tract 



IVo. ^80. 

DON'T UICHAIN THE TIGER. 



When an infidel production was submitted — probably 
by Paine — to Benjamin Franklin, in manuscript, he returned 
it to the author, with a letter, from which the following is 
extracted : " I ivoidd advise you not to atteiivpt unchain- 
ing THE TIGER, hut to hum tkis 2^iece before it is seen hy any 
other 2^erson," "If men are so ivicJced w^ith religion, what 
would they he without it?'' 

The doctor was once an advocate for infidelity. He 
informs us that he was, in his early youth, " a perfect Deist ; 
that his arguments had perverted some other young persons, 
particularly Collins and Ralph. But in the sequel, when 
he recollected that they had both treated him exceedingly 
ill, without the smallest remorse ; when he considered the 
behavior of Keith, another freethinker, and his own conduct 
towards Vernon and Miss Reed, which at times gave him 
great uneasiness, he was led to suspect that the doctrine, 
though it might be true, was not very useful." Franklin's 
Life, by Key and Mielke, pp. 76 and VV. 

Youth and inexperience exposed even Franklin to be 
led astray by infidel speculations ; but age and observation 
convinced him, first, that they were unprofitable, and then, 
that their propagation would be like the unchaining of a 
tiger in a populous city. *' Think,'" said he to Paine, in a 
letter to which allusion has been made, " hoio many incon- 
siderate and inexperienced youth of both sexes there are, who 
have need of the motives of religion to restrain them from 
vice, to support their virtue, and retain them in the practice 
of it till it becomes habitual.'" He traced his own aberra- 
tions from the path of virtue, and the vices of the " young 
persons " whom " his arguments had perverted," to the ab- 
sence of religious restraints ; and when he saw the youth 
of his beloved country in danger from the same cause, he 
bore his solemn testimony against the rash experiment, and 
entreated his reckless friend to burn the manuscript before 
it should be seen by any other individual. 
VOL. viir. 23* 



2 DON'T UXCHALN THE TIGER. 

Reader, if such a man as Franklin, after trying infidelity 
himself, and carefully noticing its effects upon others, dep- 
recated it as the bane of personal purity and social order 
and happiness, are you willing to give it currency in our 
great republic ? 

Infidelity, if it prevails in this country, must be substi- 
tuted for Christianity — for the religion of tlie Bible. This 
religion, its enemies themselves confess, is, in its moral code, 
holy, and just, and good. In its doctrine it is dignified and 
glorious. In its tendency it is pure and peaceable, gentle, 
and easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, 
■without partiality, and without hypocrisy. The celebrated 
Montesquieu remarks, "The Christian religion, ivhich or- 
dains that men should love each other, ivould without doubt 
have every nation blest ivith the best -political and civil laws ; 
because these, next to religion, are the greatest good that men 
can give and receive.'" Spirit of Laws, London edit., vol. 1, 
p. 72. The congress of 1*776, speaking of the same relig- 
ion, declared that it was the " only solid basis of public 
liberty and happiness f' and Gen. Washington calls it "one 
of the great pillars of human happiness, and the firmest prop 
of the duty of men and citizens.'' Having such a religion 
as this to form the habits of our youth, to guide the coun- 
cils of our statesmen, to teach our senators wisdom, and 
prepare our citizens to appreciate the mild institutions of 
our republic, what could we be profited by exchanging it 
for deism or atheism, in any of their modifications ? 

Infidehty would indeed break down our altars, and take 
away our Bibles and our Sabbaths. It would shut up the 
Sabbath-schools, and turn into the streets more than a mill- 
ion of children, who are now taught the pure morality of 
the Gospel every Sabbath-day. It would bereave the liv- 
ing of his rule of life, and rob the dying of his only anti- 
dote aofainst the fear of death. But what would it brino- 
us in return ? Its doctrines are vague speculations, founded 
neither on data nor evidence ; and in these speculations 
scarcely any two are agreed. Some believe in the existence 
of a God, while others deny it. Some believe in the im- 
mortality of the soul, while others, with the French philos- 
ophers, write over the gates of their cemeteries, "Death an 
eternal sleep.'' 

Nor have infidels any more certainty or any better agree- 



DON'T UXCHAIX THE TIGER. 3 

ment among themselves, in regard to tlieir moral code, than 
then- doctrinal speculations. Lord Herbert and the Earl of* 
Shaftesbury thought that the light of nature would teach 
all men, without the aid of revelation, to observe the mo- 
rality of the Bible. Spinosa and Hobbes, two other distin- 
guished infidel writers, the one believing in the existence of 
a God and the other denying it, were agreed that there ivas 
nothing either right or lurong iii its oivn nature ; hut that 
every man has a natural right to obtain, either by force or 
fraud, every thing which either his reason or his passions 
prompt him to believe may he useful to himself Blount, 
another freethinker, supposed that the moral law of nature 
justified self-murder ; and Lord Bolingbroke, that it enjoined 
polygamy, and neither ^rohihiie^A fornication, adultery, nor 
incest, excep}t between 2Mrents and children. 

But the vagueness and uncertainty of its doctrinal spec- 
ulations, and the looseness and immorality of its rules of 
life, are not the only things to be objected against infidehty. 
Its tendency, wherever it has been introduced, has been 
evil, and only evil. 

France, at the commencement of her revolution, in 1789, 
was an infidel nation. The profligacy of the Catholic priest- 
hood, the demoralizing example of the Regent Duke of Or- 
leans, and the infidel pubhcations of Voltaire and his asso- 
ciates, had produced a contempt for religion through every 
rank of society. The people were taught by their literati 
that the Bible was at war with their liberties, and that they 
could never expect to overturn the throne till they had 
broken down the altar. Here the tiger was unchained. 
The lusts and passions of men were set free from the re- 
straints of Christianity, and the bloody history of that de- 
voted nation should convince every man that infidelity has 
done her no good, but much evil. 

France needed a revolution as much as America did, 
and had she engaged in it with a pious reliance upon God, 
and with the hearts of her people deeply imbued with the 
morality of the Bible, the scion of liberty, carried by her 
honored Lafayette from this country, would have taken deep 
root, and cast forth its branches ; and before this time the 
fairest portion of Europe might have reposed under its 
shadow. But her principles had poisoned her morals, and 
her immorality disqualified her for being free ; and after 



4 DON'T UNCHAIN THE TIGER. 

expending an incredible amount of treasure, and sacrificing 
more than two millions of men, she consented to be ruled 
by a despot, in hope of some protection from herself, and 
some security from the tiger which she had unchained. 

Nor was infidelity in France more friendly to individual 
and domestic purity and happiness than to national liberty. 
Its prevalence caused such a dereliction from virtue, that 
in 1801, when the rage of the revolution waS over, and the 
government settled in the hands of Napoleon, the single 
city of Paris reported 4,881 illegitimate births, 720 divorces, 
8,258 deaths in poorhouses, and 201 found dead in the 
streets. In 1803, the prefect of police reported to the 
grand judges that there were, in the same city, 657 cases 
of suicide, 150 of murder, 604 divorces, 155 executions, 
12,076 common prostitutes, 1,552 kept mistresses, and 308 
licensed brothels. Here we see the effects of infidelity 
upon a refined and enlightened people. There is no other 
conceiv^able cause why France is not this day a mighty and 
happy republic. There was no cause why 720 wives should 
be divorced from their husbands, and 4,881 daughters be- 
come the wretched mothers of illegitimate children, in one 
year, in a single city, but that the restraints of Christianity 
were taken off from the people. 

With such facts before us, let Americans decide, not 
merely as Christians, but as patriots and fathers, whether 
they will embrace the pure Gospel of Jesus Christ, tendered 
to us from heaven, and sealed by his blood, that " whoso- 
ever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlast- 
ing life ;" or whether they will become accessory to the 
crime of banishing the restraints of religion and a sound 
morality from our mighty republic. Religion has made our 
country free. It has made our sons industrious and moral ; 
our daughters virtuous and happy. Under its purifying 
influence, our land has become the glory of all lands. Shall 
we now exchange this heavenly rehgion, which supported 
our fathers in the struggle for independence, and taught 
their sons how to be free, for that dark and cheerless sys- 
tem, which covered with crime and deluged in blood the 
only nation by which it was ever publicly embraced ? 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



Wo. 981. 

THE 

ALMOST CHRISTIAN 



BY REV. H. A. BOARDMAN, D. D., 

PHILADELPHIA. 



It is probable that the person who takes up this Tract, 
will be at once reminded by its title of some one or more in 
the circle of his friends, to whom the designation Almost 
Christian will apply : and there are few evangelical pastors 
who could not readily refer to many examples in illustration 
of this subject. We speak not now of that large, undefined, 
and varying class of which king Agrippa may be considered 
a fit representative — men who, having grown up in infidelity 
and vice, uniformly regardless of their obligations to God, 
and deaf to the invitations of the Gospel, are at length, in 
some favored hour, suddenly aroused from their stupidity, 
and constrained, under a partial view of their ruined condi- 
tion, to exclaim, " Almost thou persuadest me to be a Chris- 
tian." We speak rather of those whom we think of when 
we read the affecting narrative of our Saviour's interview 
Avith the amiable young ruler, and those who Avere, imper- 
fectly indeed, represented by the scribe to whom the assur- 
ance was given, "Thou art not far from the kingdom of 
God." Such persons are not unfrequently met Avith ; and 
they seldom cross our path without exciting a peculiar in- 
terest in their spiritual welfare. We " look upon them and 
love them," as our blessed Saviour did in one of the instances 
just cited ; and when we find them reluctant to exchange 
the paltry riches or honors of this world for the friendship 



2 THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN. 

of Christ and a crown of unfading glory, we feel something 
of that commiseration which h^ felt when the young man 
"went away grieved" at his call of infinite love. 

There are, of course, minor diversities of character 
amongst the individuals to whom the name Almost Chris- 
tian may in this sense be applied ; but they possess certain 
prominent traits in common. The following outline exhibits 
some of these characteristic features ; it is drawn from real 
life ; and though it Avill doubtless require to be varied, in 
order to suit particular cases, it is perhaps sufficiently defi- 
nite to enable each one who reads it to determine whether 
he belongs to the class of Almost Christians. 

1. They are more frequently to be found in the middle 
and higher walks of life, than among those whose pecuniary 
circumstances have precluded them from enjoying many 
intellectual and religious privileges. 

2. They are usually the offspring of pious parents, or at 
least members of families in which religion is sincerely re- 
spected, and its leading doctiines inculcated upon the minds 
of the young. This remark, however, admits of considera- 
ble modification, inasmuch as many persons who have failed 
of receiving this instruction in childhood, have subsequently 
been brought to possess the character which we are endeav- 
oring to delineate. 

3. They are for the most part persons of intelligence — 
many of them of highly cultivated minds, stored with the 
fruits and embelhshed with the accomplishments of a hberal 
education. 

4. They are almost uniformly characterized by much 
amiableness of temper ; and their kind and affectionate de- 
meanor so wins upon the heart, that we cannot know them 
without according to them the tribute of our sincere esteem. 
Especially is this the case when we observe that this kind- 
ness of heart prompts them to many acts of benevolence ; 
and that they appear to derive much of their own enjoyment 



THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN. 3 

from promoting, by little offices of attention and love, the 
happiness of those around them. 

5. The class we speak of profess the fullest belief in the 
Holy Scriptures, and approve of most of the doctrines there 
revealed. They are regular attendants at the sanctuary, 
and some of them are not ashamed to be seen at social 
prayer-meetings. Many are Sabbath- school teachers or 
members of Bible-classes. A few of them go so far as to 
study the Bible with considerable diligence, and even to offer 
up an occasional prayer in secret. They are not averse to 
the society of Christians. Their deportment is generally 
correct ; and they sometimes exhibit a degree of conscien- 
tiousness which might well reprove some who are within 
the pale of the church. They profess to rejoice in the 
increase of revivals and in the conversion of their friends. 
They freely admit that personal religion is indispensable to 
the true enjoyment of this world, and that it furnishes the 
only adequate preparation for eternity. They acknowledge, 
however, that they have never availed themselves of the 
gracious offers of the Gospel, and have no personal interest 
in the great Redeemer. 

Such are some of the distinguishing marks of the Almost 
Christian. The sketch is indeed very imperfect. The 
reader may perhaps feel that a part of the description is 
applicable to his own case, while the remainder is not. His 
character may be less fair and his deportment less exem- 
plaiy than that here delineated : while cherishing a sincere 
respect for religion, he may neglect many even of its external 
duties ; and while vaguely wishing that he were a Christian, 
he may have no precise views of the nature of that obedi- 
ence which the holy law of God requires. But whatever 
peculiarities of this kind may mark your case, allow one 
who would if possible benefit your soul, aflfectionately to 
solicit your serious attention to the remarks which will now 
be offered with reference to the preceding statement. 



4 THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN. 

I. The qualities zokich have been ascribed to the Almost 
Christian may, and in foxt do, coexist in his heart with 
determined enmity against God. It is very important for 
you to remember, that the term Almost Christian is one 
devised by man, and not by God ; and that the ground of 
its appHcation to you is not that of internal purity, but of 
outward decency. In that discriminating classification of 
mankind which the Bible makes, only two descriptions of 
persons are recognized, saints and sinners, believers and 
unbelievers, the holy and the unholy. It is the peculiar 
trait of the former that they love God ; and, in this case, 
the absence of love is aversion or hatred. " He that is not 
with me," said our Saviour, " is against me ;" and " he that 
loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of 
me." But you do not even pretend to love God ; and as 
love to God is the first and great commandment, and *' the 
fulfilling of the law," it follows not only that your heart 
tnay be, but must be full of enmity towards your Maker. 
If it be true that the law of God is spiritual, reaching even 
to the thoughts and intents of the heart, then no external 
obedience can be acceptable to him w^hich is not founded 
on a just apprehension of his authority and a sincere rever- 
ence for it. Those acts of courtesy and kindness, therefore, 
that sweetness of manner, that respect for religion, and that 
rigid observance of many of its public and perhaps some of 
its private duties, however commendable in themselves, are 
perfectly compatible with a state of wilful and perverse 
rebellion against the infinite Jehovah. 

It is exceedingly difficult to convince many persons of 
the truth of this assertion. They will admit, in words at 
least, that the eye of Omniscience is fixed upon the heart, 
and that every act must necessarily be oflPensive to him 
w^hich he perceives is not prompted by an internal principle 
of obedience to his righteous law. Still they are ready to 
ask, whether so much decency of behavior, so many deeds 



THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN. 5 

of charity, and a uniform course of life so widely different 
from that pursued by the great mass of the world, are at 
last to come into condemnation and fail of an eternal reward. 
It is obvious that a point is virtually denied in this inquiry, 
which the objector a moment before conceded ; for no plau- 
sibility of statement and no ingenuity of reasoning can invaH- 
date the conclusion, that if God approves only of such acts 
as spring from sincere love to his character and law, no acts 
to which this essential quality does not belong can be ac- 
ceptable to him. Let the case then be ever so strong — let 
one be found who can exclaim with all the mistaken ardor 
of the young ruler, and with reference to the Avhole deca- 
logue, ''all these have I kept from my youth up," yet 
without love to God as the foundation of his obedience, his 
religion will be "as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal." 

It is obvious, then, that if you are but an "Almost 
Christian," you are still in the bonds of iniquity. Notwith- 
standing all your amiableness, your hatred to God is yet 
unsubdued. And rest assured, that where this feeling pre- 
vails, there is no true virtue. There may be the semblance 
of it, but there cannot be the reahty. That single mark 
evinces that the whole heart is dreadfully corrupt. Noth- 
ing which is good can groAv in such a soil : as well might 
we expect the ground which is shaded by the deadly Upas 
to produce nutritious fruit for the sustenance of man. 

11. The Almost Christian is peculiarly liable to self-de- 
ception. His situation is one which not only indisposes a 
person to self-examination, but absolutely unfits him for 
performing this essential duty with any tolerable degree of 
fidelity. He furnishes perhaps the most striking illustra- 
tion of the unmeasurable deceitfulness of the human heart, 
which is to be found in a Christian community. There are 
indeed exceptions to this remark, amongst the large class 
who are designated by the term Almost Christian ; but, as 
a general thing, it is believed they are miserably mistaken 
VOL. VI ij. 24 



6 THE ALMOST CHRISTIAX. 

in regard to their true character. IN'ot by any means that 
they iirmly believe themselves to be real Christians, and 
much less that they express that opinion : they universally 
acknowledge, when asked the question, that they have never 
experienced the saving efficacy of the blood of Christ upon 
their hearts. Still, it may be doubted whether they are not 
self-deluded in the very act of making these confessions — 
whether they are so utterly destitute of hope as they pro- 
fess to be. The heart which has not been humbled and 
sanctified by grace is seldom disposed to bring its excellence 
to the severe tests exhibited in the Scriptures, or to view 
its own deformity in the mirror of the Gospel. And it is 
plain that the man who takes no pains to learn what his 
true character is, will be strongly inclined to form too favor- 
able an estimate of himself. Especially will this be the 
case if he is conscious of possessing those amiable qualities 
which secure for him general esteem, and if his hfe is stained 
with few violations of those rules of honesty and sobriety 
which, however improperly, are by common consent, in all 
civilized countries, invested with the authority of a code of 
morals. 

It is hardly possible that one so situated should scruti- 
nize his own heart with that impartiality which is demanded 
alike by a regard to his personal safety and by the requisi- 
tions of eternal justice. To imagine that he can look with- 
out a sinful self-complacency on all his acts of kindness and 
charity, and that he will be disposed impartially to examine 
these actions and the general tenor of his life by the pure 
light of revealed truth, is to suppose that he has already 
been taught those lessons concerning the depravity of the 
heart which are only to be learned by sitting at the feet of 
Jesus Christ. Considering what human nature is, is it sur- 
prising that he should be flattered, by the caresses of friends 
and the concurrent approbation of all around him, into a 
secret and firm, though perhaps unacknowledged belief. 



THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN. 7 

tliat even God himself looks down upon him with a feeling 
of complacency? Such an impression is so favorable to 
peace of mind, that we may presume there is a predisposi- 
tion to receive it ; and it would be cherished and confirmed 
by that frequent, though only half-designed comparison, 
which the Almost Christian is so prone to institute between 
himself and his less exemplary neighbors and associates. 

Perhaps the reader has, in some honest moment, de- 
tected himself in this specious kind of self-gratulation ; and 
if he will but candidly examine this single act, it will open 
to him the ground of that delusion which is threatening to 
destroy his soul. He appeals to some other standard than 
the word of God in order to determine the true character of 
his actions. But of what account is it, with reference to 
the retributions of eternity, how blameless your life may be 
in the judgment of men, provided your heart is not right in 
the sight of God ? It obviously concerns you to know how 
your conduct appears in the eyes of him who is to deal 
with you according to your works, and fix your everlasting 
destiny at the great day of account. Every other inquiry 
is totally irrelevant until this be settled. If God has sol- 
emnly decreed that " without holiness no man shall see the 
Lord," you are running a fearful hazard by building your 
hopes of heaven on the favorable estimate which men, frail 
and sinful like yourself, may form of your character. You 
deny, indeed, that you are trusting to any such foundation. 
You assert that nothing is further from your belief than the 
opinion that your good works will wholly or partially avail 
to save you. But beware of yourself. Search deeply into 
your heart, and see if you do not discover, beneath all your 
apparent humility and self-renunciation, an under-current 
of pride and selfishness, which is silently but rapidly bear- 
ing you towards the " lake which burnetii with fire and 
brimstone." 

Nor is the Almost Christian less erroneously deceived 



8 THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN'. 

in regard to his prospects of becoming pious. If he is not 
actually indulging a secret hope in the mercy of God, he 
flatters himself that he is approaching that point at which 
sovereign grace will surely interpose for his deliverance. 
He practically believes that the course he is pursuing, 
though not precisely coincident with the '*' strait and nar- 
row way," is gradually converging towards it, and will in 
due season conduct him into it ; or else that the two paths 
are so near together that, in case of any sudden calamity, 
as an attact^of sickness or the like, he can step, at a mo- 
ment's warning, from his own into the other. He perceives 
that there is reason enough why the vicious and profane, the 
sensualist and the drunkard, should be promptly arrested 
in their downward career ; but why should he be alarmed 
who "has been growing better and better for years?" It 
is well to go and try to collect together the Israelites who 
are scattered all over the desert, and in danger of 'being cut 
off by their foes ; but why disturb the peace of one who is 
living on the very bank of Jordan, and can at any time cross 
over to the land of promise and repose ? Strange, strange 
infatuation — to think that sin can tend to holiness ; that a 
life of rebellion against God is qualifying a creature for 
heaven ; that a heart which is daily abusing offered mercy, 
and crucifying anew the Saviour, is softening rather than 
hardening in its iniquity ! throw off this delusion. Tear 
away the veil from your eyes. Look at yourself as you are. 
Believe that " he who is not with Christ, is against him ;" 
that he who is not "laying up treasure in heaven," is 
" treasuring up wrath against the day of wrath ;" and that 
every hour you persist in impenitence, is strengthening the 
fearful probability that you will at last fail of eternal life. 

III. The state of the Almost Christian is one of aggra- 
vated and increasiiig guilt. It has already been shown, that 
with all his apparent amiableness he still cherishes bitter 
enmity against God, and we shall now endeavor to prove 



THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN. 9 

that his sin is of no ordinary stamp. This "will be manifest, 
if we examine his conduct in the light of that simple and 
equitable principle of the divine administration — a principle 
which we recognize in all our dealings with one another — 
that " unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall much 
be required." Now, according to the view which we have 
taken, the Almost Christian is one to whom this maxim will 
apply in all the plenitude of its meaning. He has not only 
enjoyed the common bounties of Providence and the means 
of grace, but he has been mercifully restrained from flagrant 
sins, educated in the fear of the Lord, and taught to cherish 
a sincere respect for the ordinances and interests of religion. 
While thousands around him have grown up like heathens 
in a Christian land, his mind has been stored with sacred 
truth, he has been instructed in lessons of virtue, and pious 
friends have been constantly near to impart their counsel 
and to direct him in the path of duty. More than this, he 
has been led by divine grace to reflect much and seriously 
on eternal things ; he has been convinced of the reasonable 
claims of God upon hist heart; he has been brought to 
acknowledge that his course of life is irrational, sinful, and 
dangerous ; he knows that there is salvation for him only 
through the atoning sacrifice and righteousness of Christ, 
and that unless he repent and believe in him he must inevi- 
tably perish. 

All this has been done for him — all this he knows — and 
yet does he still persevere in resisting all the calls and mo- 
tives to repentance. He looks upon Sinai : he sees its light- 
nings, he hears its thunders : the law is proclaimed, and he 
confesses that it is "holy, and just, and good ;" but he re- 
fuses to render to it any other than a cold and formal obe- 
dience. He looks upon Calvary : he beholds a scene which 
filled all heaven with wonder — which made the rocks to rend, 
the graves to open, and the dead to come forth ; but no 
tear of penitence starts from his eye, no pang of godly sor- 
VOL. VIII. 24* 



10 THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN. 

row thrills his heart. Thouo^h confessino- that Jesus was 
the Son of God, yet he ^Yill not obey him — that he is alto- 
gether lovely, yet he will not love him — that he died to 
save sinners, yet he will not be saved by him. He hears 
the proffer of rest to the weary and heavy-laden, but he 
refuses to appropriate it to himself. He knows that there 
is a "fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness," but he 
will not repair to it. He believes in the assurance that 
those who need, can have " Avine and milk "without money 
and without price ;" but, while acknowledging his need, he 
is too proud to accept the boon. 

And what more coiild he do to aggravate his guilt ? 
What more could be done to bring him to Christ ? From 
Sabbath to Sabbath, from year to year — perhaps all the 
while flattering, himself that he is drawing nearer and nearer 
to the kingdom of heaven — he lives unmoved alike by jtidg- 
ments and mercies. He perhaps sits side by side in the 
sanctuary with some avowed, and, it may be, profligate op- 
posers of religion ; and while their hearts melt under the 
power of the truth, his own, as though encased in iron, but 
too fatally wards off every shaft. The same afflictive prov- 
idence which is the means of arresting and awakening many 
of his companions, leaves no permanent impression on his 
mind. He is ready, indeed, to sympathize with the bereaved, 
and to alleviate their sorrows by all the kind offices of friend- 
ship ; but he forgets that the stroke which has clad them, 
and perhaps himself also, in mourning, was mercifully de- 
signed to direct his wandering heart to the Saviour. 

The writer is well aware that the opposite effects here 
spoken of are, in an important sense, referable to the divine 
sovereignty ; nor would he pen a single sentence which 
might seem to be in the slightest degree inconsistent with 
that great, and, to the Christian, most precious doctrine. 
But, however that doctrine may be explained, all the guilt 
which has been charged upon the Almost Christian lies 



THE ALMOST CHRISTIAX. H 

most justly at his door. And for proof of this, let the ap- 
peal be made to his own consciousness. If such an one is 
now perusing this Tract, let me ask whether a single un- 
righteous allegation has been advanced against you in these 
remarks ? Does not the Bible, by direct assertion or obvi- 
ous implication, confirm, in your own judgment, all that has 
been said respecting the true character of ^your depraved 
heart ? And do you not acknowledge that the preceding 
enumeration of your sins is in no other way incorrect, than as 
it fails in representing fully their number and their heinous- 
ness ? If this be so, then, truly, 

IV. The condition of the Almost Christian is one of aw- 
ful danger. It is so, because of the hardening effect of his 
sins upon his heart. By his own confession, he sins against 
much more light than other men, and therefore he must 
make a more wilful resistance to the truth. The Gospel 
is a savor of life unto life, or of death unto death, to all who 
hear it. The man who rejects one solemn and pungent 
appeal on the subject of his soul's salvation, is thereby forti- 
fied, in a measure, against a second ; and he who rejects a 
second, will be better able to resist a third ; and in this 
gradual manner do multitudes so completely arm themselves 
against the messages of God as to make their own destruc- 
tion sure. 

Again, the Almost Christian is in great danger, because, 
by persisting so wilfully in impenitence, he may grieve the 
Holy Spirit until he depart from him. That men are some- 
times thus given over to the workings of a reprobate mind, 
is a doctrine dreadful indeed to contemplate, but too plainly 
taught in the Scriptures to be overlooked. It is God who 
speaks in such language as the following : " My Spirit shall 
not always strive with man." " Because I have called, and 
ye refused ; I have stretched out my hand, and no man 
regai-ded ; but ye have set at naught all my counsel, and 
would none of my reproof : I also will laugh at your calam- 



12 I'HE ALMOST CHRISTIAN. 

ity ; I -will mock when your fear cometh." Prov. 1. " If 
thou hadst known," said our blessed Saviour to Jerusalem, 
even Avhile he wept over it — " if thou hadst known, even 
thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto 
thy peace ! but now they are hid from thine eyes." And 
again, " Thou knewest not the time of thy visitation." Luke 
19. Who, then, are so likely to be thus forsaken of God, 
as those with whom his Spirit has been long striving ; who 
have been faithfully instructed, admonished, warned, en- 
treated to repent and believe in Christ ; and who, notwith- 
standing the flood of light which has been shed upon their 
path, and the unnumbered mercies of God, are still abusing 
his goodness, and trampling on the blood of his Son ? Be- 
w are, lest you provoke his WTath, and he swear that you 
shall not enter into his rest. 

There is still another circumstance which adds to the 
danger of the Almost Christian, resulting from the gross 
deception which, as we have seen, he is constantly practis- 
ing upon himself. He has so long reflected on the solemn 
truths of the Gospel, that he listens to them without expect- 
ing them to make any deep impression on his mind. He is 
not surprised to see others aff"ected even to tears under the 
faithful preaching of the word, but he would look upon 
himself with astonishment, should the same exhibition of 
the truth excite in his own bosom any strong emotion. His 
respect for religion remains undiminished, his external con- 
duct is still blameless, his attendance on public worship 
regular, and his conscience, perhaps, tender ; but there is a 
sameness, a uniformity in his feelings, throughout successive 
months and years, which may well excite painful forebod- 
ings as to the end of his course. He often Avishes that he 
were a Christian; but he has no wish strong enough to 
carry him beyond the unvarying circuit of his daily life. 
He is frequently serious ; but his seriousness never rises to 
genuine conviction and abhorrence of sin. He often feels 



THE ALMOST CIIRISTIAX. I3 

solicitous about his soul ; but lie is never sufficiently alarmed 
to make the trembling inquiry, " What must I do to be 
saved?" How little prospect, then, humanly speaking, is 
there that he will ever awake, in this life, to the realities of 
his condition. Nor is it to be forgotten that his state is be- 
coming more alarming every day. It is only in appearance 
that he is stationary. He is every hour, as we have already 
seen, becoming more hardened in sin, and more confirmed 
in impenitence. 

We appeal, therefore, to the Almost Christian, whether 
he is not encompassed with dangers. It is a small matter, 
that in the estimation of your own flattering heart, or of 
partial friends, you may have no cause for anxiety about 
your soul. Are you not still under the curse of the law ? 
Is not the sword of God's justice impending over you, and 
his wrath ready to burst upon your head ? Is not your 
soul in dreadful peril? You are walking blindfold upon 
the verge of a tremendous precipice. Death hastens on ; 
the judgment-bar of your offended Saviour is just before 
you ; time is bearing you rapidly along to the retributions 
of eternity, and the only preparation you are making, is a 
preparation for endless exclusion from the presence of God 
and the joys of heaven. Are you ready for this doom ? 
Can you meet it with composure ? Or does the thought of 
it inspire you rather with a desire to avoid it ? Are you 
disposed now to seek reconciliation with God on the terms 
which he has prescribed in his "holy word? If you are, I 
will endeavor briefly to point out your duty. 

You need not be told that there is but one way of sal- 
vation. ''Except ye repent," said our Saviour, "ye shall 
all likewise perish." ''Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, 
and thou shalt be saved." Repentance and faith are as 
requisite for you as they were for a Mary Magdalene or a 
Saul of Tarsus ; or as they are now for the vilest wretch 
who bears the form of man. You are aware that repent- 



14 THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN. 

ance includes godly soitow for sin, a forsaking of every 
sinful habit, and a firm determination to walk with God, in 
the ways of new obedience ; and that faith includes a re- 
ceiving and resting on Christ alone for pardon and salvation. 
It is your duty at once to renounce every other dependence, 
to give up all reliance on your amiableness of temper and 
exemplary conduct, as recommending you to the favor of 
God, and to come humble and contrite for your sins to 
Jesus Christ, Cast yourself on his mercy ; receive him as 
your Saviour ; and commit your soul and all its concerns to 
him, for time and for eternity. Do this noiv. You have 
trifled with religion too long already. The Bible has no 
promise for you beyond the present moment. It requires 
immediate repentance and the immediate exercise of faith. 

To all this you will probably answer, "I have often 
endeavored to give myself up to Christ in the way here 
described, but I have never been able to get a clear view of 
my own sinfulness, nor have I felt sufficiently the burden 
of sin," 

On this I would remark, first, this only evinces the 
dreadful depravity of your heart. Your sins are, on your 
own confession, of a highly aggravated nature, and yet you 
do not feel them. But again, the Almost Christian very 
frequently commits a mistake in regard to the character of 
his exercises. He invariably fixes upon a high degree of 
conviction of sin, as an indispensable prerequisite to his 
accepting the offers of mercy. And thence his plea^ when 
urged to renounce the world for Christ, miiformly is, "I do 
not feel enough to take this step yet." Now, it is true, that 
without the conviction of your ruin by sin, there can be no 
evangelical repentance; yet, as this conviction is itself, 
when real, the work of the Holy vSpirit, it is not for a worm 
of the dust to declare that he will persist in rebellion 
against his Maker, until he is favored with an overwhelming 
view of his own depravity. Again, he should remember 



THE ALMOST CHRISTIAX. 15 

that many persons have more pungent convictions at various 
seasons after their conversion, than they had at the precise 
period of it. And again, it is well known that persons 
whose character and education correspond to the descrip- 
tion given in the foregoing pages of the Almost Christian, if 
converted at all, are often brought into the fold of Christ 
without experiencing those highly wrought exercises which 
frequently attend the conviction and conversion of the aban- 
doned and profligate. Still, it is evident that until you are 
led by the Holy Spirit to feel, in some measure, your need 
of a Saviour, you will not repair to him. 

But why are you not sensible of your need now ? To 
this question you have correctly replied, that you have no 
just view of your own character — no clear apprehension of 
the momentous truths of the holy Scriptures. Were those 
truths once brought home to your heart, you could no more 
remain unmoved than could Belshazzar when he beheld the 
mystical hand-writing on the wall of his palace. Should 
the Spirit of God apply them to your conscience with all 
the directness and force of a " Thou art the man,'" you 
would instantly throw aside your pride, and formality, and 
unbelief, and cry out in agony of soul, " What must I do 
to be saved?" 

But the question still remains,' Why do you not reahze 
the import of these solemn truths ? why are you still blind 
to your own wickedness ? why are you not now Avithin the 
ark of refuge ? Simply, mider God, because you have never 
been in earnest to secure the salvation of your soul. If you 
were obhged to cross a rugged mountain, you would not 
expect to pass it by making weak and irregular efforts, by 
alternate seasons of activity and idleness, of encouragement 
and despondency. And if you expect ever to reach heaven, 
no partial, unsteady, and inconstant exertions will avail. 
Millions perish because there is no period at which they are 
ready solemnly to vow before God, " NOW, /7'o??^ this mo- 



16 THE ALMOST CHRISTIAN. 

MENT, / will, in dependence on divine grace, seek supremely 
the honor of Christ in the salvation of my soul and the 
extension of his kingdom, and make every thing else subordi- 
nate to this great end.'' 

Are you ready now to make this solemn consecration of 
yourself to God ? If so, do it on your bended knees, in 
his immediate presence. And once done, let there be no 
shrinking back — no misgiving. " Remember Lot's wife." 
Having put your hand to the plough, one look behind may 
cost you a crown of glory. The world will tempt you — 
friends may ridicule you. Regard them not. Let all the 
energies of your mind be devoted to the great question at 
issue between your soul and your Maker. Separate your- 
self, as far as possible, from ensnaring company ; let not the 
perplexities of business draw your heart away from God ; 
banish every thing which might distract your attention. 
Reflect on the merciful providences which have marked 
your history, and let these excite your gratitude. Above 
all, look to the bleeding Saviour. Think of his agony in 
the garden — his bloody sweat — his crown of thorns — his 
piercing cry, *'My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken 
me ?" — his pouring out his soul an offering for sin, that 
"whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have 
everlasting life." Implore the Holy Spirit to take of the 
things of Christ and show them unto you ; to sanctify you ; 
to strengthen you in duty. He will give you the victory over 
every spiritual adversary, preserve you to the end, and 
"present you faultless before the presence of his glory 
with exceeding joy." 



T¥o. S8!3, 



DAVID BALDWIN; 



THE MILLER'S SON 




The father of the youth who forms the subject of this 
narrative, is a respectable miller in the county of Kings, Long 
Island. He has for several years occupied one of those nu- 
merous mills moved by the tide waters of the ocean, which 
stand along the bays indenting the south-western shore. The 
wide expanse which these locations present to the eye, the 
tumultuous roarings of the ocean, with the occasional terror 
and majesty of the storm, are calculated to give a philosoph- 
ical, if not a religious turn to the reflecting mind. 

David Baldwin, who died April 5, 1833, aged 22, was 
brought up at one of these mills. His opportunity for edu- 
cation was only that of a common school. But breaking 
VOL. viii. 25 



2 DAVID BALDWIN ; OR, 

through the disadvantages of his situation, he made very 
respectable attainments. With the exception of the Latin 
and Greek languages, he surpassed in general knowledge 
most of the youth who issue from our collegiate institu- 
tions. The powers of his mind were of the first order. 
Strongly intellectual, he was able to grapple with any sub- 
ject to which his attention was given. In the accomplish- 
ment of his purposes he was unbending, and immovably 
tenacious of the opinions he embraced ; nevertheless he 
was kind and condescending in his feelings, sober, quiet, 
and industrious in his habits. 

The constant resort to his father's mill by the inhabit- 
ants of the adjacent country, rendered it a position ex- 
tremely favorable for exerting an extensive influence ; but 
most unhappily, as it appeared to us, for the interests of 
religion and for the souls of many who admired his talents, 
he embraced that system of opinions which regards the 
Bible as a fable, and Jesus Christ, our blessed Saviour, as 
an impostor. These sentiments absorbed his whole mind, 
and completely warped his understanding, in other respects 
remarkably good ; he became thoroughly versed in the 
Avhole system of infidelity ; he knew all the objections and 
arguments which for two hundred years infidels have been 
using against the Bible. Over these he pored by night 
and by day ; he knew which were strong and which were 
weak. Indeed, it is rare to find a Christian more thought- 
ful, or one who studies his Bible with so much care as he 
studied the arguments and objections which infidels have 
brought against it. 

How long since he embraced these sentiments we are 
unable to say. Some time since, passing from his father's 
house after conversing with the family, I perceived him 
standing at a little distance by himself, and stepping aside, 
addressed a few words to him on the subject of religion. 



THE MILLER'S SON. 3 

He immediately replied, that his views on that subject 
were very different from mine. 

As time and circumstances did not then admit of dis- 
cussion, and knowing his vigorous powers and unyielding 
nature too well to believe that he would surrender his opin- 
ions without an effort, I requested an interview with him 
at some future day. To this he assented. 

Having an errand soon after to the mill, I found him 
alone, and then, with no other ear to hear than the ear of 
Jehovah himself, and no other eye upon us than that which 
searches the heart, our discussions commenced. These 
were continued in the same place from time to time for 
several months, until we had travelled, step by step, over 
the whole system of infidelity. 

Hume's argument, alleging that miracles were not sus- 
ceptible of proof, he seemed to regard as his strong hold. 
After I had thought its sophistry, its want of philosoph- 
ical soundness, even in its first principles, had been clearly 
exposed, he would still cling to it with a pertinacity plainly 
showing it to be a cherished favorite. 

At one time, while earnestly engaged upon the external 
evidences of divine revelation, he remarked with energy, 
that he would not believe the Bible to be the inspired word 
of God even if there were external evidence sufficient to 
sustain it. 

" Why not ?" I inquired. 

" The matters contained in it, and recorded as facts," 
he replied, " are so unreasonable, so inconsistent, so fool- 
ish, and so much at issue with all our ideas of truth and 
propriety, that no man unblinded by superstition or preju- 
dice can possibly believe them." 

"What are these facts?" I asked; "will you name 
some of them ?" 

He mentioned several, but soon fastened upon the con- 



4 DAVID BALDWIN ; OR, 

version of Saul of Tarsus, showing by his comments that 
he viewed it as the most extravagant of them aU. 

I rephed, that it was a fact as well attested as any other 
fact in history, and although there was something unusual 
in the occurrence, there was certainly nothing unreason- 
able. As you acknowledge God to be the creator of the 
human soul, there can be nothing unreasonable in saying 
that he has power to renew or change that which he had 
power to form. If he fashioned it once, he must surely 
have power to fashion it again, or turn it whithersoever 
he will. 

Here he reverted immediately to the doctrines of Hume, 
saying that such a conversion must be a miracle, and mira- 
cles were not susceptible of human proof. 

In one of those excursions I was frequently making to 
the mill, the weather was extremely boisterous ; the roads 
were filled with mud, and ice, and snow ; a blackening train 
of crows were beating in the adverse winds above, whilst 
endeavoring to make their way from the adjacent island to 
the main ; every thing around was calculated to fill the 
mind with gloom. When I arrived, I said to my young 
friend, with a serious air, " I was thinking, as I came along, 
what a gloomy world this is. It appears to be so full of 
difficulty and trouble, I had concluded that, if your views 
were correct, it would be much better for us to administer 
to each other a portion of some fatal drug that would lay 
us asleep for ever : it will only be a sleep, you say, and 
why not sleep at once ? After we have struggled through 
difficulty and sorrow for years, you tell us it will only be a 
sleep at last : if so, I can see no reason for continuing the 
struggle any longer." 

When he recovered from the first emotions of surprise, 
he replied, " We must take the bitter with the sweet." 

** But the sweet is of short duration, the bitter seems 



THE MILLER'S SON. 5 

to constitute by far the largest portion of the cup," I con- 
tinued. 

Seeing to what conclusion it must inevitably come, he 
adroitly returned the question, saying, ''Will you please to 
tell me first what sustains you ?" 

"Hope," I immediately replied — "the hope of bless- 
edness to come sustains us ; btit you have no hope, you are 
constantly looking into the earth as the end of your being : 
on your principles you can hope for no higher destiny than 
that which pertains to the mere animal creation ; but we 
think our present afflictions are not worthy to be compared 
with the glory to be revealed." 

At another time I asked him what advantage the world 
would gain, should these principles be universally embrac- 
ed. They produce no hope, but take away many whole- 
some restraints. Taking away the Bible would be lifting 
the floodofates of vice. 

" I know it," said he ; "the world is not yet sufficiently 
philosophical to endure the change." 

"Unless," said I, "the fountain of vice in the heart is 
dried up by the operations of that Eternal Spirit whom the 
Bible reveals, I fear these days of philosophical liberty can 
never arrive." 

On another occasion, whilst deeply occupied upon this 
all-absorbing subject, I asked him if infidels ever prayed. 

He said " he thought not ; he never knew one that did, 
nor had he ever heard of an instance." 

"Are infidels, then, independent of their Maker?" 

He replied, "No." 

" Is it not then unreasonable, is it not contrary to the 
common sense of mankind, that dependent creatures should 
never thank that Being on whom they always depend? 
What would you say to see a poor suffering fellow-creature 
by the wayside, ready to perish, and a man of wealth and 

VOL. VIII. 25* 



6 DAVID BALDWIN ; OR, 

benevolence passing by, touched with compassion, kindly- 
supplying his wants — what would you say to see him re- 
ceive the gift, and turn away with dumb sullenness from 
the kind giver ?" 

" I would say he was ungrateful, he ought to thank his 
benefactor," he replied. 

" What would the common sense of mankind say ?" 

*' It would say so too. But," continued he, " the case 
is not parallel ; our thanks can add nothing to the glory of 
the Almighty, he is so far above us." 

" Neither could the thanks of the miserable being add 
any thing to the wealth or respectability of his kind bene- 
factor. But what is duty ? And now, David, I wish to ask 
you a particular question, and I know your integrity too 
well to believe you will deceive me in the answer. Do you 
ever pray ?" 

After some hesitation, his countenance at the same time 
betraying the emotions within, he answered, " No, I do not 
pray." 

"Then I think reason must decide that that religion 
which leads the soul to God must be right, while that 
which leads it away from the Source of all good must cer- 
tainly be wrong." 

I placed in his hands Faber's Difficulties of Infidelity, 
Leslie's Short Method with the Deists, etc. Paley's Evi- 
dences of a Divine Revelation he told me he had read. 
But, after all that had passed between us, the details of 
which, if written out, would fill a large volume, he still 
remained inflexibly firm. He appeared to be as immovable 
as the man who had placed his foundation upon a rock. 

Believing further discussion unprofitable, I told him it 
must be left to aflSiction and death to test the truth and 
value of our respective principles ; and here we ceased to 
agitate the question. 



THE MILLER'S SON. 



In the meantime a disease with which he had been af- 
flicted increased, and finally assumed the consumptive form. 
He was constrained to relinquish business, and was soon 
entirely confined to the house. 

During his confinement I called several times to see him, 
inquired after his health, and conversed with him respect- 
ing every thing else than that which held the deepest place 
in my heart. From a few hints which he inadvertently 
dropped in the course of these conversations, I perceived 
that his views were unchanged. 

As the spring advanced his disease made alarming 
strides, he was thrown upon the bed, and all hope of re- 
covery was given up. He had been one week in this sit- 
uation when I called on him. 

On entering the room I readily perceived that the hand 
of the last enemy was upon him, and taking my seat by the 
side of his bed, I affectionately inquired how he was. 

Said he, " I am fast sinking ; it is impossible that I 
should recover ; but I am resigned to my fate, or to the 
disposal of the great God of nature.'* 

I observed, " that resignation was good under such cir- 
cumstances, if it were well founded ; but in order to have 
any thing valuable in it, it must rest upon some sure foun- 
dation. A resignation founded upon the word of God, the 
hopes and promises of the Gospel, must surely be good for 
a dying man ; but if you cast away the Bible, your resig- 
nation rests upon nothing but your own carnal reasonings 
or vain imaginations." 

"Every man has his opinion," said he; "the Moham- 
medan has his opinion, the Jew has his, you have yours, 
and I have mine." 

" That may be," I replied, " but still it does not make 
all our opinions equally wise or safe. As these opinions 
are contrary to each other, some of them must be wrong : 



8 DAVJl) r.ALDU'IX; OR, 

and now, if yours are right, David, all the rest of us are 
just as safe as you are ; but if yours are wrong, how 
awful the thought ! What a mighty difference death must 
make between you and us." 

" Hush, hush !" he exclaimed with vehemence, averting 
his face to the opposite side of the room, his whole system 
at the same time becoming greatly agitated. 

His anxious mother, agonizing for the salvation of her 
son, cried, "David, David, why will you do so?" 

Turning again, he replied to his mother, " What else 
can I say ? I am too weak to listen to such things now." 

Waitinfy until his feelino-s had in some measure sub- 
sided, I said, " David, this is not weakness, it is conscience ; 
I have often seen Christians much weaker than, you are, 
converse for a whole hour upon the promises and the hopes 
of the Gospel ; I have seen them contemplate with delight 
the glory hereafter to be revealed : but you seem to be 
easily disturbed ; you appear to have but little confidence 
in your own system ; it does not bring you any comfort in 
the prospect of death." 

''Trouble me no more," said he; ''you could not con- 
vince me when I was well, it is in vain to think of doing it 
now I am sick : do not come here to disturb a dying man ; 
let me die in peace." 

I told him "I had not come to argue, I had come to 
preach Christ and him crucified, the only way of life, the 
only hope of a resurrection from the dead and eternal bless- 
edness beyond the grave. I have not come because I am 
desirous of giving you pain ; I came to seek your eternal 
good. I never have felt any thing but kindness towards 
you ; in all our arguments you never saw me manifest any 
other feeling." 

" That is so," said he, " I never did." 

" And now, David, with regard to your dying in peace. 



THE MILLER'S SON. 9 

that cannot be. For you to die in peace, as you now are, 
is utterly impossible. There can be no peace, saith my 
God, to the wicked." 

" You ought to have charity," said he, with emotion ; 
" it is a poor religion that does not produce charity." 

"I would most gladly have charity for you if I could," 
I replied ; " but I cannot have it ; my Bible will not permit 
me to have it : my Bible declares, ' he that believeth shall 
be saved, but he that believeth not shall be damned.' " 

"That is hard," said he. 

I continued my discourse, saying to him, *' I would take 
great pleasure in administering comfort, if it were in my 
power so to do ; but I know of no way in which a minister 
of Christ can comfort a dying man but by presenting the 
consolations of the Gospel. These, David, you have cast 
away — you have cast away the Saviour, and trampled the 
blood of the covenant beneath your feet. How can I com- 
fort you? Strong as is my desire to do so, you place it 
entirely beyond my power to offer you one drop of conso- 
lation." 

"I hope then," said he, ''you will not distress me." 

Perceiving his feelings much agitated, I desisted. Af- 
ter pausing until he was somewhat composed again, I said, 
" David, shall I pray with you ?" 

He hesitated for a moment, and then answered, " No. 
The great God of nature cannot be changed by man's pray- 
ers. He is immutable." 

"Nevertheless," said I, "he has declared himself to be 
the hearer of prayer and the rewarder of those who dili- 
gently seek him. He has said, they that seek shall find — 
they that ask shall receive — and unto them that knock it 
shall be opened." 

"You may think so," said he, "but I think otherwise." 

After another considerable pause, in which not a word 



10 DAVID BALDWIN; OR, 

was spoken by any person in the room, nor any thing heard 
but the sighs occasioned by a mother's and a sister's an- 
guish, I said to him, " David, I must now take my leave of 
you. But shall I ever come to see you again ?" 

He looked earnestly in my face, and with an expression 
of kindness, he slowly said, " If you will come and see me 
as a friend." 

" Then you do not Avish to see me as a minister of the 
Gospel?" 

He answered distinctly, " No." 

"But seeing I sustain that office," I replied, "I cannot 
reconcile it with my sense of duty to visit a dying man 
without presenting the only hope God hath provided for 
the dying. If I come to see you, I must preach Christ and 
him crucified." So saying, with painful emotions I bade 
him adieu. 

On retiring, his mother requested me to pray with the 
family and the friends who were present in the adjoining 
room, to which I readily assented. And when she had set 
his door open, we lifted up our souls in earnest supplica- 
tion to that God who has the hearts of all in his hands, 
and is able to turn them whithersoever he will. It was a 
moment of indescribable solemnity. A son — a brother — a 
beloved and admired friend, was about to take his flight 
to the world of spirits, unreconciled to God, at enmity with 
Jesus Christ, accounting even his precious saving blood as 
an unholy and a hateful thing. We earnestly besought the 
Lord to have mercy on his soul — to scatter the delusions 
of Satan — to subdue his enmity — to give him light, and to 
give him life. 

After prayer I took my leave of the family and deeply 
afflicted parents, promising soon to return, for I was still 
unwilling to give him over as lost, whilst any portion of his 
day of grace appeared to remain. Returning home, I pon- 



THE MILLER'S SON. H 

^ dered upon all that had past. I felt exceedingly pained 
and disappointed at what I had witnessed, and said to my- 
self, " who hath believed our report, and to whom is the 
arm of the Lord revealed ? Is the Lord's arm shortened, 
that it cannot save ; or his ear heavy, that it cannot hear?" 

A little after sundown the same day I was surprised at 
the reception of a note from a member of the family, re- 
questing my immediate attendance. I readily obeyed the 
call. David was very desirous of seeing me, and in a few 
minutes I was there. 

When I came in, his father said, " David has been 
exceedingly distressed since you were here. I perceived, 
during the day, that he rolled and tossed from side to side, 
groaning as if in the greatest anguish, and I said to him, 
* David, what is the matter ?' ' O,' said he, ' I have no 
pain of body, but I have such awful distress and agony of 
soul.' Was this distress occasioned by the conversation this 
morning? '0, yes,' said he; 'I once thought I could die 
in peace, but now I find I cannot.' To his mother he after- 
wards said, '0 what a poor prodigal I have been! Can 
you not pray for me, mother ? Will you not pray for me ?' 
He also requested us to send for you, which we immedi- 
ately did." 

When I entered his room he looked up in my face and 
said, " I have been deeply distressed since you were here 
this morning." 

"What has given you so much trouble?" I affection- 
ately inquired. 

"O," said he, "that question respecting the Saviour." 

" Then you begin to lose confidence in the opinions you 
have embraced?" 

" Yes," he replied, " they bring no comfort to the soul ; 
they do not sustain me. A Saviour is necessary. Is there 
salvation for me ?" 



12 DAVID BALDVVlx\ ; OR, 

I answered in the aflfirmative, and began at once to pre- 
sent the fuhiess and the freeness of the gospel offer, and to 
exhibit the abiUty and willingness of our Lord Jesus Christ 
to save sinners, even the chief. For this purpose I recited 
many passages of Scripture, such as, " Ho, every one that 
thirsteth" — "Come, and let us reason together" — "Let 
the wicked forsake his Avay " — "He that believeth shall be 
saved " — " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt 
be saved." Li order to give him a view of the nature of 
Christ's substitution in the room and stead of sinners, the 
only means by which w^e can be delivered from the burden 
and condemnation of sin, I read and expounded, as far as 
time w^ould permit, the fifty -third of Isaiah, and also the 
fifth chapter of Paul's Epistle to the Romans. He listened 
attentively to all that was said. Like the new-born babe, 
he seemed to desire the sincere milk of the word, to be 
entirely subdued and humbled in spirit ; and when I con- 
cluded, he said w^ith emphasis, 

" These are comforting truths." 

" But w^ill you believe them ?" I inquired. 

*' yes, I will try to believe them." 

I then asked if 1 should pray with him. 

" Most certainly," he replied, " I should be glad to have 
you do so." 

We then united in prayer around his dying bed with 
feelings widely different from those we had experienced in 
the morning. AYe thanked the Lord for his mercy and 
compassion to the children of men. We earnestly besought 
him that the good work, which we trusted was begun, might 
be carried on to perfection ; that the youth before us might 
be made a rich trophy of God's free, adorable, and match- 
less grace. 

At the close of the prayer he said aloud, " Amen, so 
let it be." 



THE IVULLER'S SON. 13 

When I came again on the following morning, as he had 
desired me to do, the family told me he had requested his 
sister to be called before day to read the Scriptures for 
him, and that he himself had engaged in prayer. To my 
inquiries respecting the state of his mind, he said, 

"There is one thought that particularly troubles me. 
I have rejected Christ — I fear Christ will reject me." 

I continued, as I had done the preceding evening, to 
present Christ in all his fulness — his willingness and his 
sufficiency to save. I read and remarked upon several pas- 
sages of Scripture. He seemed to catch every word with 
eagerness. He complained of no weakness — no fatigue. 
He did not seem to droop or grow weary. The infirmities 
of the body appeared to be forgotten in his eagerness to 
gain the bread of life for his soul. 

When I had concluded, he said, " I have endeavored to 
cast myself entirely on the mercy of God, as manifested in 
Jesus Christ. I can trust to no other." 

After prayer to the throne of grace, which he closed as 
before, by saying Amen, I left him. 

The next time I came to see him, he said, " I am hke 
Saul of Tarsus. The scales have fallen from my eyes ; I 
can now understand by experience what that conversion 
means ; I can now see what before was involved in dark- 
ness. I feel that Jesus Christ is precious. How could I 
have died with my former views, and without an interest 
in Christ ? It is painful to think of." He seemed now to 
regard the principles of infidelity with the deepest abhor- 
rence, and to look with wonder and gratitude at the fearful 
gulf from which he had escaped. 

I inquired if his former views had ever given him peace 
or comfort. 

He replied, " Not any. I have tried hard to extract 
comfort from them, but I could never obtain it." He then 
VOL. Yin. 26 



14 DAVID BALDWIN ; OR, 

related to me a long conversation which he had held that 
morning with a neighbor, for whom he had sent, and who 
had for some time past entertained similar views with him- 
self. ''I told him," said he, "that the philosophy we had 
been cherishinor could not sustain the soul ; it could not 
stand the test of death. I have had to abandon it, and if 
ever you die happy, you must abandon it also." 

I observed to him " that there were a great many who 
professed to adhere to infidel principles in this place, and 
if my life is spared, I shall most probably have an oppor- 
tunity of addressing them. What shall I say to them from 
you?" 

" Tell them," said he, " that philosophy will not sustain 
the soul in the prospect of death — it contains no support 
for the dying man ; that now is the time to give it up, and 
to become reconciled to God through Jesus Christ. Whilst 
my life remains, I will do what I can to correct the evil 
myself." 

On quitting the room his mother told me that he exact- 
ed a solemn promise from her that she would burn all his 
infidel books, so that no other person might be poisoned by 
them in the manner he had been. 

Contrary to the expectation of all, he continued eleven 
days from the time this extraordinary change took place. 
During this time he was seen by many individuals, and to 
all who conversed with him he gave the most decisive evi- 
dence of a change of heart and a precious work of grace 
wrought in the soul. All the exercises of his mind seemed 
to be of a highly devotional character. He kept his sister 
constantly employed in reading the sacred Scriptures. In 
the Psalms of David he greatly delighted, saying at the 
same time that all the rest of the Bible was good. 

After a portion of Scripture was read to him in the 
morning, he would engage in prayer for himself and the 



THE MILLER'S SOX. 15 

family. He delighted greatly in this duty. After long 
conversation with his physician respecting his former and 
his present views of the Christian religion, he requested 
him to pray. At the close of the prayer, he said with 
emphasis, ''What a blessed privilege Christians enjoy, in 
offering up the desires of their hearts to God in behalf of 
poor sinful worms of the dust !" 

He continued in the manifestation of hope and confi- 
dence in the Redeemer until he breathed out his soul, as 
we trust, in the Lord Jesus Christ, and ascended to those 
regions of light and blessedness whence all errors and delu- 
sions will be for ever excluded. 

From this simple narrative the reader cannot fail to per- 
ceive how utterly unstable the strongest human foundation 
becomes in the hour of trial. With judgment and eternity 
in view, it becomes as movable as the sand swept away by 
the flood. No foundation will stand the test or give com- 
fort to the soul but that which God has laid. That foun- 
dation has stood the test of ages. No one resting thereon 
ever found himself disappointed, or said at last he was 
deceived. The nearer they have approached the fearful 
crisis, the more confidence they have felt in the truth of 
God and the saving efficacy of his precious Son. When 
that awful hour draws nigh, so far from requirino- their 
Bibles to be burnt as delusive books, their Bibles become 
more dear to their souls. When the world recedes, when 
flesh faints and the heart fails, they look up with confi- 
dence to Him who hath promised to be the strength of their 
hearts, and their portion for ever. Thousands in all ages, 
trusting in Christ, have died thus. They have met that, 
which has always been the king of terrors to the wicked, 
with calm composure, holy joy, triumphant faith, singing 
victory even amid the throes of death. 

But take away the Lord Jesus Christ, the only name 



16 DAVID BALDWIN ; OR, THE MILLER'S gON. 

given under heaven whereby we can be saved, and what is 
left to bear up the soul ? When the sorrows of death en- 
compass it, and the pains of hell begin to take hold upon 
it, what can sustain it ? Can the force of human reason, or 
the value of human merit ? Ah, no. Had it been in the 
power of human reason or human merit to do so, our young 
friend would have been amply sustained. His intellectual 
perceptions were strong and clear — his mind was enlarged — 
the habits of his life were irreproachable — his industry ex- 
tracted all the sweets which the system of infidelity con- 
tained, and yet he freely confessed that he never experienced 
peace until he found it in Jesus Christ. 

In view of these facts, why will men indulge such a 
delusive hope ? The language this youth employed to those 
whom he called to his dying bed was, '' Give it up. If you 
would escape the sufferings and anguish I have endured, 
give it up." And if any reader is cherishing this awful 
delusion, we would say. Give it up. If you would escape 
that tremendous gulf into which all the unbelieving will be 
cast — if you would gain an inheritance in that kingdom into 
which all the faithful of God shall be ultimately gathered, 
give it up and embrace the Lord Jesus Christ, as he is 
freely offered to you in the Gospel. 



i\o. 983. 

ALARM TO THE CARELESS. 



Indifference to religion in a rational being cannot but 
excite surprise and occasion grief in every serious mind. 
Religion is an infinite reality ; the Gospel is worthy of all 
acceptation ; its claims are high and paramount to every 
other ; and we cannot but know that in an unexpected mo- 
ment we may be called to give an account of the deeds 
done in the body. And can any be found in these circum- 
stances indifferent to their highest interests ? What can be 
said to one who cares for none of these things which the 
infinite God has revealed, into which the angels desire to 
look, which are not vain — either doubtful or unimportant — 
but of unutterable value, and will stand when heaven and 
earth shall pass away ? 

I entreat your serious attention while I present some 
reasons loluj you ought to be alarmed. 

1. The fact that you are careless is ground of alarm. It 
is evidence that you do not reflect upon God. One hour's 
solemn meditation upon his omniscience, his purity and 
righteousness, would break up your apathy. Did you think 
of your relation to him, his goodness to you, your obliga- 
tions to him, you could not be at ease. Ought you not to 
be troubled that you are surrounded by Jehovah, every 
moment liable to be summoned to his bar, and still indiffer- 
ent — asleep in your sins ? Your carelessness is evidence 
that you are ignorant of your true condition in the sight of 
God ; for who that realizes the guilt of transgression, the 
holy nature and fearful penalty of the law, and feels that 
he has broken that law and incurred that penalty, will not 
tremble ? There is something truly awful in false security, 
where the danger is real and great. Who does not pity 
the poor victim of intemperance, who has just passed the 
line that decided his character as a drunkard? He still 
cries. There is no danger. He dreams of happiness and 
respectability while the hand of death is upon him; his 
VOL. VIII. 26* 



2 alar:m to the careless. 

fancied security is the most alarming symptom : could he 
feel his danger, there would be hope ; but this he luill not 
see, and his indifference is the touch of death. 

Who that had seen the prodigal amid his cups and rev- 
els, reckless of his approaching ruin, would not have wept 
over his guilty thoughtlessness ? If just then he had been 
admonished of his danger, he would doubtless have replied 
in anger, as the sinner often does, " Your sympathy is un- 
called for ; my resources are not exhausted, nor do I intend 
to become the slave of indulgence ; an occasional liberty 
may be taken without hazard." Ah, how little did he know 
of the wiles of the destroyer ! He was then undone, but 
he had not yet come to himself to see it. 

And such is your condition, careless sinner, but you 
know it not. A disease is upon your soul ; it has penetrated' 
your nature through ; and yet you are whole in your own 
estimation, and need not a physician. Your very apathy is 
the darkest symptom. 

You are condemned — the sentence of death lies against 
you — and yet you feel secure. Just in proportion to the 
character of the sentence, the nearness and certainty of its 
execution, is the fearfulness of your indifference. If it were 
a temporal loss it could be borne, apathy would not be so 
appalling : but when we remember that the sentence against 
you is eternal death ; that God is the Judge who pronounced 
it ; that this very night your soul may be required, we know 
not how to express our sense of the criminality of such 
carelessness. 

2. Another reason of alarm is, that this indifference in- 
dicates a state of mind in which every blessing is abused, 
every warning neglected. The sinner's heart is represented 
by the barren heath which knoweth not when good cometh ; 
which receives the sweet showers of heaven, but makes no 
return. While this apath}'- remains, the goodness of God 
may be lavished upon you, the blessings of Providence may 
fall around you, the kindness and love of God our Saviour 
may be shown you, and no gratitude spring up in your 
heart. Should it not trouble you to have such a heart ? Is 
not such a state of mind truly deplorable ? A habit of body 
that would render every thing received for nourishment or 
for medicine perfectly useless would be dreadful ; what 
then must be that moral disease which leads men to pervert 



ALARM TO THE CARELESS. 3 

every gift, to turn away from every overture, to resist every 
motive ? Every prayer you hear leaves you far from God ; 
every chapter of the Bible read is without effect ; every 
sermon you hear, every funeral you attend, leaves you still 
in love with the world. Thus all the means which a mer- 
ciful God employs, accomplish nothing for your highest 
good ; and this because you are careless. 

3. You ought to be troubled when you reflect what it 
is you are careless about — salvation. The man indifferent 
about his health is unwise enough ; the man regardless of 
his temporal interests can expect little commiseration ; what 
then shall be said of him who by neglect hazards the sal- 
vation of his soul? You are now on trial for eternity. 
Christ has died that you might live — salvation is offered in 
his name — indifference is unbelief. In an hour you think 
not you may be called to your account ; by mere neglect 
you may lose heaven ; eternal death is the fruit of a careless 
life, and this you may incur before to-morrow. What in- 
fatuation, thus to expose immortal interests when nothing 
is to be gained. 0, ye careless, awake from sleep ; you 
have too much at stake thus to slumber. If you would but 
pause, you could not fail to see the inconsistency of being 
so eager after the vanities of this Avorld, while you are neg- 
ligent of the realities of the world to come ; of being so 
intent upon the acquisition of wealth that may take to itself 
wings and fly away, while you are indifferent about the true 
riches ; of grasping after momentary honor, while you let 
go immortal glory, 

4. Another cause of alarm is the exposure of your pres- 
ent condition. Neglect of the Gospel insures destruction. 
"How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation?" 
Many think, if they escape those outbreaking sins which 
bring ruin upon men in this world, they are in no danger of 
the fearful gulf ; but this is a fatal mistake. Careless sin- 
ner, if you had never uttered a falsehood, injured a neigh- 
bor, or stained your hands with a single trespass against 
society, you would still be in the gall of bitterness ; your 
apathy is a crime for which no morality can atone. You 
have never thought enough of God to love him, or of Christ 
to follow him. Were you to die in your present state, your 
ahenation of heart, your indifference to religion would ex- 
clude you from the kingdom of God. Nor Avould there be 



4 alar:.i tu the careles;?. 

any thing arbitrary in this. A heart insensible to the claims 
of the Gospel, and unmoved by the affecting scenes of Cal- 
vary, in such a world of ruin as this, surely is not meet for 
the inheritance of the saints. Were you, therefore, not to 
commit another sin, were you to remain stationary as to 
moral character, you must be lost. By all that is heart- 
rending in the idea of banishment from God, in the thought 
of lying down in everlasting sorrow, I would arouse you to 
reflection, and entreat you to lay these things to heart. 

5. Another consideration is, no more ijowerful means 
will he employed to awaken you to the concerns of your soul. 
Consider what God has done to induce you to seek him. 
His words are full of emphasis, calculated to seal up every 
mouth and sweep away every excuse : '* What could have 
been done to my vineyard that I have not done ? Hoav often 
would I have gathered you, and ye would not." That you 
might know God, his works have been spread out before 
you ; that you might early serve him, parents and teachers 
have instructed you from the first dawn of moral being ; 
that you might be convinced of sin, the piercing light of the 
law has shined into your heart ; its high and holy precepts 
have been placed beside your conduct, that you might mark 
your deficiency ; that you might escape the wrath of God, 
the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world has been 
set forth as the propitiation for sin. Ministei-s have preached, 
Christian friends have entreated, the Holy Spirit has been 
sent to \dsit your heart, and still you are careless about the 
most solemn subject in the universe. Are you waiting to 
be moved ? There is enough now bearing upon you to ex- 
cite half the heathen world. The presence of one mission- 
ary moves all Burmah. The heathen have heard that 
there is an eternal hell, and they are afraid ; but you sit 
unmoved. They have learned that there is an eternal God, 
and they desire to know him ; but you say. Depart from 
us, we desire not a knowledge of thy ways. They ask for 
Tracts, while some here Avill not receive them into their 
houses. They regard with unspeakable interest a servant 
of Jesus Christ, and will take a three months' journey to 
enjoy the privilege of listening to his words ; while you Avill 
suffer him to stand and stretch forth his hands without 
heeding his message. Ah, the poor heathen will rise up in 
the judgment and condemn you. 



ALARM TO THE CARELESS. 5 

0, ye careless ones, what shall be done to distm-b your 
deep slumbers ? If one rising from the dead would not 
make those hear who had Moses and the prophets, what 
neio thing, or solemn thing, shall be said to those who, in 
addition, have Christ and the apostles ? There is every 
reason to fear you will still sleep on. The fact that you are 
on the slippery brink of ruin, on the sides of a volcano ready 
to burst forth, does not alarm you ; the fact that God 
stoops to warn you, and that he will not send another Gos- 
pel, or make another display of his love before you, excites 
no interest. We are ready to exclaim with the prophet, 
" that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of 
tears, that I might weep day and night " over the stupidity 
of sinners. 

6. This carelessness is increased hy indulgence, and co7i- 
firmed hy habit. A long process of hardening the heart is 
gone through with, before such a state of perfect apathy is 
reached. What saith the Scripture ? " Can the Ethiopian 
change his skin, or the leopard his spots ? Then may ye 
also do good, that are accustomed to do evil." A deceived 
heart turns the sinner aside, so that he cannot deliver his 
soul, nor say. Is there not a lie in my right hand ? A state 
of indifference, induced by the habit of neglecting the Gos- 
pel for years, will not be easily broken up. Novelty, which 
is a powerful auxiliaiy to truth, is lost upon such. If the 
mighty works which Christ wrought in Chorazin and Beth- 
saida, but which lost their effect by repetition, had been 
done in Tyre and Sidon — heathen cities — the first impres- 
sion of such stupendous power had struck every mind — 
they 2oould have repented. And if the same truths which 
sinners hardened under the Gospel reject, were delivered in 
the name of Christ to many in the waste places of the earth, 
they would doubtless turn to the Lord. 

This indifference of which God complains is voluntary. 
Go thy way, said Felix to Paul ; when I have a convenient 
season I will call for thee. He made his seriousness yield 
to his convenience. Who will say he was under a necessity 
to dismiss the apostle ? He says no such thing. He might 
have taken a different course ; and so might you have done, 
careless reader ; for you were not always as indifferent as 
you now are. When eternal things were pressed upon your 
regard, when the truth of God was felt, or a solemn provi- 



6 ALAllM TO THE CARELESS. 

dence filled you with seriousness, wlien you Avere agitating 
the question whether you should arise and go to your Father 
with the prodigal's confession, who will say that an iron 
necessity bound you to the fatal course you took ? What 
but a perverse will led you to dismiss your fears, to aban- 
don your closet, to forsake the meeting for social prayer, to 
prefer the world ? Ah, you must know that you acted de- 
liberately ; you would not come to Christ that you might 
have life ; and now, if you die in your sins, if the Spirit of 
God never again awaken you, if you are left to the sleep of 
spiritual and eternal death, it will be for ever true that God 
called, and you refused ; that he knocked at your heart, and 
you would not open to him ; that he stretched out his hand, 
and you would not regard him ; that he sent his ministers 
to beseech you to be reconciled, and that you hated know- 
ledge, and despised all his reproofs. 

7. Another reason why you should be troubled is, this 
carelessness is a state of mind that 'p'^ovokes God to with- 
draio his Spirit. This indifference springs from deep de- 
pravity ; it is deeply criminal. If the heart were not de- 
ceitful above all things and desperately wicked, men would 
not be so insensible to divine things. In heaven there is no 
apathy ; there ought to be none on earth. The truths of 
God possess sufficient interest to excite every sensibility, to 
awaken every power. Must it not offend the Author of this 
record, to say that he has failed to reveal himself in a way 
to interest his creatures ? They can be interested ; a ro- 
mance, a fictitious scene, a work of the imagination can hold 
them waking till midnight, while the Gospel is nodded over, 
or wholly neglected. Ah, the cause is not in the inspired 
record, but in the heart ; it is ** enmity against God." Men 
reject Christ, '* because their deeds are evil ;" and continu- 
ing to reject him, they are in danger of being given up to 
incorrigible hardness of heart. All habits gather strength 
by repetition. The man who sinned against his conscience 
the last Sabbath, will be more likely to sin against it to-day. 
He who stifled conviction then, is probably more disposed 
to do it noiv. In this way God is provoked to leave him. 
His Spirit will not always strive with man. The sinner first 
sinks into indifference before he sinks into judicial sleep. 
how many who were apparently not far from the kingdom 
of God, relapse into stupidity, and never wake out of it. 



ALARM TO THE CARELESS. 7 

They have eyes, but they see not ; their ears are dull of 
hearing, their hearts have waxed gross, so that they will 
not turn to the Lord. Woe unto you when God departs 
from you. This is no uncommon case. In ancient times 
God said, " My people would not hearken to my voice ; so 
I gave them up to their own hearts' lusts." If unbelief 
under the Old Testament dispensation thus provoked him, 
how must he regard those who reject his Son ? Says Jesus 
Christ, " that they had known, in this their day, the things 
which belong to their peace ; but now they are hidden from 
their eyes." God spake to the heathen, says the apostle, 
so as to take away excuse even from them ; but they refused 
to hear, and their punishment is thus described : " Because 
they liked not to retain God in their knowledge, he gave 
them up to a reprobate mind." What then will he do to 
those who turn away from him who speaks from heaven ? 

8. Let me say, in conclusion, your indifference vjill ulti- 
mately he broken iq^, and will aggravate your condemna- 
tion a thousand fold. The wrath of God is revealed from 
heaven against all unrighteousness of men ; and though 
the retribution sleep, it will come, and will not tarry. The 
measure of iniquity may be long filling up ; but when it is 
full, the judgment will be inflicted. The Jews were spared 
forty 3'^ears after the Sa\'iour wept over their devoted city, 
and in the midst of his tears pronounced the irreversible 
sentence; but the cloud burst at length and swept them 
away. 

And, careless sinner, you may be continued — the Sab- 
bath may dawn upon you, the voice of prayer may fall upon 
your ears while you sleep securely in your sins ; but the 
summons of death will come : " Give an account of thy 
stewardship, for thou mayest be no longer steward." You 
may reject the Gospel and despise its overtures, but that 
summons you cannot reject, that mandate you cannot de- 
spise. Your dream of delusion will then be dissipated ; the 
awful realities of the judgment will produce a conviction 
which will deepen for ever ; the trial of the last day, and 
the chains and darkness of the eternal prison, will convince 
you that God is righteous when he judgeth. 

0, to awake in despair, and find, from the actual inflic- 
tion of God's wrath, what an evil thing it is to sin against 
him ; to know by irreparable loss the value of blessings de- 



9 ALARM TO THE CARELESS, 

spised, of atoning blood trampled in the dust, of grace re- 
jected. How will it imbitter the soul to dwell upon scenes 
passed through during a probationary season. The light 
that now shines will add deeper shades to the darkness of 
the pit. Recollection will be an endless source of misery 
to the lost. " Son," said Jesus Christ to the man in tor- 
ment, " REMEMBER that thou iu thy lifetime receivedst thy 
good things." What words can express the anguish of a 
soul thus reminded of lost opportunities ? " 0, had it not 
been for my foolish pride, I might now be robed in purity 
at God's right hand : but I would not yield to truth — -I 
contended with God, and justly perish." Let these lam- 
entations from the world of woe now rouse you to throw 
off this lethargy that settles upon you ; call upon God — 
cast yourself at his feet — and from this hour act for eterni- 
ty ; for if you wrap yourself in the delusion that to-mor- 
row shall be as this day, in such an hour as you think not, 
the avenger of blood may be upon you. And will you run 
the desperate hazard of having this great work to jperform 
on a dying bed? Delay, and your "dreadful end" may 
only furnish another warning to such as " forget God." But 
give him your heart now, and life shall be peace, death a 
welcome messenger, and your eternity a scene of unmingled 
happiness and triumphant glory. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



«fo. 384. 



LYDIA STURTEVANT; 



OR, 



THE FATAL RESOLUTION, 

AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 



BY REV. ELIAKIM PHELPS, D. D. 



Lydia Sturtevant was the name of an amiable young 
lady of my acquaintance, who died at the age of sixteen. 
She was the daughter of respectable and pious parents in 
one of the New England states. On the cultivation of her 
mind considerable attention had been bestowed. Buoyant 
in spirit and beautiful in person, she was the pride of her 
parents, the ornament of her circle, and the admiration of 
all who knew her. 

To what extent her mind had been imbued with relig- 
ious truth in childhood, I have not been able fully to learn. 
It is certain that, from her earliest years, she had regarded 
religion with respect, and had entertained the expectation 
of becoming a Christian before she died. It is not known, 
however, that she was the subject of special religious im- 
pressions until the summer of 1824. During the months 
of July and August of that year, her mind was solemnly 
impressed, and she felt that it was unsafe to continue in the 
neglect of religion any longer. One morning, especially, 
the first impression as she awoke was, that she must em- 
brace religion then; and that her soul was in imminent dan- 
ger of being lost if she delayed. She saw herself, as she 

VOL. viii, 27 



LYDIA STURTEVANT ; OR 



expressed it, " to be a great sinner, in the hands of a God 
of justice" — saw that there "was no hope but in Jesus 
Christ — that in Christ there was a full and complete salva- 
tion — that he was ready and willing to receive her then, and 
that delay would probably be fatal to her soul." She de- 
liberated ; she reasoned ; she prayed, and finally made up 
her mind to the deliberate resolution, that she ivould re- 
j^ent and accept the offer of salvation before the close of that 
DAY. She did not actually repent then, but resolved that 
she ivould do it that day. This resolution Avas, as she be- 
lieved, the solemn and deliberate purpose of her soul ; and 
she felt a degree of satisfaction in the thought, that the 
question of her eternal salvation was now so near a final and 
favorable adjustment. But the day had its cares and its 
pleasures ; business and company filled up its hours, and 
the nio-ht found her as thouo^htless, almost, as she had been 
for months. 

The next morning her religious impressions were re- 
newed and deepened. She saw, more clearly than before, 
the danger of her condition, and the necessity of immediate 
repentance. Sin now appeared more exceedingly sinful; 
she reproached herself for violating the resolution of the 
previous morning, and in agony of soul, better conceived 
than described, formed another resolution, as she expressed 
it, " to begin religion before the close of that day.'' And 
with this the anxiety of her mind again subsided. The 
violated vows of the previous morning gave her some un- 
easiness ; she felt not quite the same confidence in herself 
that she did before ; but she had now formed her resolution 
so firmly, she was so fixed in her purpose, that she consid- 
ered the issue could hardly be any longer doubtful ; and 
the agony of her soul gave way to the soothing reflection 
that she should soon be a Christian. She had now taken, 
as she imagined, " one step " — had formed a solemn pur- 
pose, and had 2;"iven a pledge to repent that day. She felt, 



THE FATAL RESOLUTION. 3 

as she expressed it, committed, and hardly had a doubt as 
to the accomplishment of her purpose. This day also 
passed away as before. She did, indeed, several times 
during the day, thinTc of her resolution, but not -with that 
overwhelming interest she had felt in the morning, and 
nothing decisive was done. 

The next morning her impressions were again renewed, 
and she again renewed her resolution ; and it was dissipated 
as before ; and thus she went on resolving, and breaking 
her resolutions, until at length her anxiety entirely subsided, 
and she relapsed into her former state of unconcern. She 
was not, however, absolutely indifferent ; she still expected 
and resolved to be a Christian; but her resolutions now 
looked to a more distant period for their accomplishment, 
and she returned to the cares and pleasures of the world 
with the same interest as before. 

About this time she went to reside in a neighboring vil- 
lage, and I did not see her again for about three months, 
when I was called at an early hour one morning to visit her 
on the bed of death. Her last sickness was short — of only 
five days' continuance. So insidious was its progress, that 
no serious apprehensions Avere entertained as to its issue, 
until about eight hours before her death ; and no anxiety 
for her salvation, up to this hour, appears to have occupied 
her mind. About daybreak, on the morning of the day 
she died, she was informed that her symptoms had become 
alarming, and that her sickness would probably be fatal. 
The intelligence was awfully surprising. It was an hour of 
indescribable interest to her soul. A solemn stillness reigned 
around. It was at the early dawn of day, just about the 
hour at which she formed what she emphatically called 
THAT FATAL RESOLUTION, a sliort time before. The opening 
twilight, the chamber in which she lay, every object around 
brought to mind her former resolutions, and in a moment 



4 LYDIA STURTEVANT ; OR, 

all the horrors of her situation filled her soul. She now saw 
herself a hardened sinner, in the hands of God — impenitent, 
unpardoned — without hope — at the very gate of death — 
her Saviour slighted, the Spirit grieved and gone, and the 
judgment with its tremendous retributions just before her. 

For a moment suppose her case your own. Time, that 
was given her to prepare for eternity, was gone. Health, 
strength, flattering hopes, were gone. The insidious dis- 
ease had made such rapid inroads, that her blood was al- 
ready beginning to stagnate, and her lungs to falter in the 
work of respiration. Feeble and faint, and racked with 
pain, just sinking in death, what could she do for her soul ? 
And yet do she must, now or never; for in a few short 
hours, it would be for ever too late. At one time her dis- 
tress became so intense, and her energies so exhausted, that 
she was forced to conclude her soul lost — that nothing could 
now be done for it ; and for a moment she seemed as if in 
a horrid struggle to adjust her mind to her anticipated doom. 
But that word LOST. It was a living scorpion to her 
deathless soul. Her whole frame shuddered at the thought. 
She struggled again for life — raised her haggard eyes, and 
seemed to summon every efifort to pray. what agony 
did that prayer express ! She called, she begged, she im- 
portuned for mercy, until her weak frame gave way, and 
she sunk into a partial swoon. A momentary delirium 
seemed then to distract her thoughts ; she appeared to 
dream that she was well again, and spoke wildly of her 
companions, and her employments, and her pleasures. But 
the next moment a return of reason dissipated the illusion, 
and forced back upon her the dread reality of her situation — • 
just trembling on the verge of the pit — ^just sinking, as she 
several times affirmed, to an endless hell. 

At this awful thouofht her soul aijain summoned 
strength — again she cried for mercy with an agony too in- 
tense for her weak frame, and again she fainted. It was 



THE FATAL RESOLUTION. 5 

now nearly noon. Most of the morning had been employed 
either in prayer at her bedside, or in attempting to guide 
her to the Saviour ; but all seemed ineffectual : her strength 
was now near gone ; vital action was no longer perceptible 
at the extremities ; the cold death-sweat was gathering on 
her brow, and dread despair seemed ready to possess her 
soul. She saw, and we all saw, that the fatal moment was 
at hand, and her future prospect one of unmingled horror. 
She shrunk from it. She turned her eye to me, and called 
on all who stood around her to beseech once more the God 
of mercy in her behalf. 

Turning at one time to her distressed father, as he sat 
beside her, watching the changes of her countenance, she 
said, with a look such as parents alone can understand, " 0, 
my dear father, can't you help me ? — can't you keep me 
alive a Kttle longer ? 0, pray for me — pray for me." We 
all kneeled again at her bedside, and having once more 
commended her to God, I tried again to direct her to the 
Saviour, and was beginning to repeat some promises which 
I thought appropriate, when she interrupted me, saying 
with emphasis, she ^' could not he pardoned ; it was too 
late — too late."" And again alluding to that fatal reso- 
lution, she begged of me to charge all the youth of my 
congregation not to neglect religion as she had done ; not 
to stifle their conviction by a mere resolution to repent. 
"Warn them, warn them,'' said she, "by my case" — and 
again she attempted to pray, and swooned again. 

Her voice was now become inarticulate, the dimness of 
death was setthng upon her eyes, Avhich now and then, in 
a frantifc stare, told of agonies that the tongue could not 
express. The energies of her soul, however, seemed not 
in the least abated. The same effort to pray was manifestly 
still continued, though it was indicated now rather by 
struggles and expressive looks and groans, than words. 
She continued thus alternately to struggle and faint, every 
VOL. VIII. 27* 



6 LYDIA STURTEVANT ; OR, 

succeeding effort becoming feebler, until the last convulsive 
struggle closed the scene, and her spirit took its everlasting 
flight. 

As I retired from the scene of death, I. was led to con- 
template and write down this brief history of that lovely- 
female, whose state was now unalterably fixed. But a few 
weeks before, she was within the reach of hope, and prom- 
ise, and Gospel influence, a subject of deep and solemn 
conviction. The Saviour called, the Spirit strove ; she list- 
ened, deliberated, resolved. But alas, her resolution fixed 
on a future period ; and although it was but a few hours 
distant, it aff'orded time for " the wicked one to catch away 
that which was sown in her heart." The circumstance 
which quieted her conviction, and perhaps prevented her 
repentance, was her resolution that she luould repent ; or, 
as she more than once expressed it, " that fatal resolu- 
tion." Had she actually reimited and embraced salvation 
then, instead of simply resolving that she ivould do it, her 
death, though in the morning of her days, might have 
been peaceful and triumphant, her memory blessed, and 
her immortality glorious. 

But how was it that a resolution to repent and become 
a Christian — a resolution so solemnly adopted, and to be 
executed so soon, could have led to a result so disastrous ? 
The ansAver is clear. We see in this case the deceitfulness 
of the human heart, and the dark device of Satan. Instead 
of yielding to conviction and rep.enting at once, she was 
quieted by her resolution, until the cares and pleasures of 
the day could have time to come in and take possession of 
her soul. Her resolution Avas so firmly made and so soon to 
be accomplished, that she felt in a measure secure, and her 
anxieties subsided. The resolution that she ivould repent 
that day calmed her apprehensions, and thus removed from 
her mind the most powerful stimulant to do it noiv. The 
effect upon her conscience was that of a deceptive and dead- 



THE FATAL RESOLUTION. 7 

ly opiate ; it lulled to a fatal slumber, to be broken only by 
the angel of death. 

How many, as we have reason to fear, are going down 
to the pit under the same delusion. Impenitent reader, is 
not this your case ? Why are you so unconcerned ? Is it 
not that you are purposing to repent hereafter ? Would 
you — could you be content to live one day, one hour, in 
this unprepared state, if you had not some such opiate to 
stupefy conscience, and perpetuate its slumbers ? Suppose 
it were now revealed, that in a few short hours death would 
be upon you, would you not be awakened ? Would you 
not with great earnestness seek the Lord while he might 
be found ? But what real difference is there between the 
condition here supposed and your actual condition now? 
Death is certain to come. Why, then, when the fact that 
you must die ere long is so certain, why do you feel so little 
solicitude to be prepared ? With the tremendous alterna- 
tive of heaven or hell appended to your decision, what Sa- 
tanic delusion holds you in fatal slumbers ? — what but this 
delusive purpose to repent hereafter ? Take away this, and 
the vain hope which hangs upon it, and would you slum- 
ber ? No more than you would slumber under the trumpet 
of the last day. 

The deceptive influence, then, of this 7'esolutwn — this 
mere purpose to repent, can at once be seen. It perpetu- 
ates that insensibility which threatens, even now, your soul's 
eternal ruin. No matter how firmly you may resolve to 
repent hereafter ; the more firmly you resolve, the more 
imminent, perhaps, is your danger, for the greater is the 
probability that you will trust in it, and that conscience will 
be silenced. No matter how short the period before your 
resolution is to be accomplished. Though it were merely 
*' to go and bury your father," or '' bid them farewell that 
are at home at your house ;" if it admits a s'mgle half hour 
of delay, it involves a hazard for which the wealth of king- 



8 LYDIA STURTEVANT, ETC. 

doms would not compensate. It is a wilful delay of repent- 
ance now commanded; it may lead to diverting company or 
care ; it may grieve away the Holy Spirit ; it may be that 
sin, for which all the sighs, and groans, and tears of a world 
could not atone. This mere purpose to repent has been 
long enough peopling the world of perdition. It is one of 
the darkest devices of Satan. It is not to be trusted, even 
for an hour. It is like the pilgrim's "enchanted ground ;" 
he who sleeps there, sleeps in the gate of death. If relig- 
ion will ever have any value, it has that value now. If its 
sanctions ever ivill be binding, they are binding noiv. If 
the Most Hiofh ever ivill have a claim to your obedience, he 
has that claim now. The business of religion is a business 
to be transacted, not to be trifled with or delayed. It re- 
quires not simply your purposes, or promises, or resolutions, 
but the immediate surrender of your heart, a cheerful sub- 
mission of your ivill to the word, and Spirit, and holy will 
of God ; a cordial acquiescence in the method of salvation 
through Jesus Christ. It is a concern in which no man's 
ivord can be taken, even for an hour. Not even the most 
solemn voiv, if it fix only on a future period, can meet that 
high and holy injunction which " noiu urges all men every- 
where to reptent.'" then, by the awful majesty of that 
God who thus " commands " — by the tremendous decisions 
of his last tribunal — by the amazing worth of your own 
soul — and above all, by the infinite love of Him who has 
died for sinners, be constrained to REPENT NOW. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



WHAT IS 

A CALL TO THE MINISTRY ? 



BY REV. JAMES D. KNOWLES 



LETTER I. 

My dear Brother — I need not assure you that the 
subject on which we recently conversed is deeply interest- 
ing to my mind. The inquiry, Is it my duty to preach the 
Gospel ? is one of the most important that can occupy your 
attention. I have wished that some person competent to 
the task would furnish the church with a judicious treatise 
on this topic. It would be most gratefully received by 
hundreds of young men, whose minds are agitated by 
doubts concerning their duty. Such a treatise, too, would 
be a valuable assistant to pastors, both by reminding them 
of their duty to the young men in their respective churches, 
and by aiding them to perform that duty. The churches 
also need instruction respecting their obligations to seek out 
and cherish the gifts which may exist among their young 
members. But as such an essay has not yet appeared, you 
will allow me to suggest a few thoughts on the subject. 

It gives me pleasure to know that you agree with me 
on the point, that sincei^e love to the Saviour is the first and 
indispensable qualification. If I had doubt whether you 
have been " born of the Spirit," I could not think of you in 
reference to the ministry, but should rather feel it my first 
duty to beseech you, in Christ's stead, to be reconciled to 
God. A man who has not scriptural evidence that his 



2 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MLXISTRY ? 

heart has been renewed, may be sure that it would be pre- 
sumption to intrude himself into the ministry. ISo monarch 
would employ a rebel as an ambassador. Much less will 
the Saviour appoint an impenitent sinner to proclaim his 
Gospel. To such a man the words of the psalmist may be 
most emphatically applied : " Unto the wicked God saith, 
What hast thou to do to declare my statutes, or that thou 
shouldest take my covenant in thy mouth ? seeing thou 
hatest instruction, and castest my words behind thee." 

But, while I believe you to be a true Christian, I must 
exhort 3^ou, before you proceed further in your inquiries 
concerning the ministry, to "make your calling and elec- 
tion sure " by a faithful application to your own soul of the 
scriptural tests of conversion. That it is possible to arrive 
at a well-grounded persuasion of our adoption — that we 
may " know that we have passed from death unto life " — 
that we may enjoy the ''full assurance of faith" — is indis- 
putable. Every Christian perhaps experiences occasional 
eclipses of his hope, because he is betrayed into sin, which 
darkens his understanding and disturbs his peace. But 
this is a different thing from that perpetual overshadowing 
of the soul of which some professing Christians complain. 
They have some light, but the rays struggle through a 
cloud. They enjoy some hope, but it is faint and waver- 
ing. They have a little peace, but it is often disturbed by 
fears. Such a doubting believer is not qualified to plead 
the Saviour's cause with men. He cannot confidently urge 
others to believe, while he himself has only a feeble faith. 
He cannot speak persuasively of the excellence of that 
religion, the consolations of which he does not himself en- 
joy. He cannot comfort the mourner, guide the inquirer, 
and remove the doubts of the perplexed. The young man, 
then, who is inquiring concerning the ministry, must ex- 
amine himself, not merely to be satisfied that he is a Chris- 



WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY 1 3 

tian, but to ascertain whether his faith is sufficiently firm to 
enable him to go onward in the toils and conflicts of the 
ministry Avith the confidence of Paul : "I know whom I 
have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep 
that which I have committed unto him against that day." 

Another fundamental point which you fully admit is, 
that there must be a call to the ministry. You believe 
that it belongs to the Saviour alone to give pastors and 
teachers to his church, and to commission ambassadors to 
his enemies. You do not believe that every pious man, nor 
even every pious and well-educated man, has a right to 
become a minister. You believe that he whom God designs 
for the ministry will have a special intimation of the will of 
God, without which he must not presume to enter the 
sacred office. I will proceed, then, in my next to examine 
the nature of a call to the ministry. May the Lord pre- 
serve us from error, and guide us into all truth. 

Afifectionately yours. 



LETTER II. 



My dear Brother — While you fully believe that there 
is a special call to the ministry, you do not admit the idea 
of a m^Vac^^?ow5 intimation of the will of God. You do not 
expect to be addressed by an audible voice. You look for 
no visions. You wait for no supernatural light from heaven 
to flash suddenly upon you. Of all these you find instances 
in the Scriptures : but you do not believe that God now 
communicates, by such methods, his commands to men. A 
knowledge of his will, therefore, in all cases where there is 
not an express revelation of that will in the Scriptures, must 
be gathered from the general principles there laid down. 



4 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY 1 

from the providence of God, and from the movings of his 
Spirit on the soul. 

Let us then inquire what hght on this subject may be 
derived from the general principles of the Bible. 

One of these principles is, that we are not our own, but 
are bought with a price. The Saviour has redeemed us by 
his precious blood, and we are his by every claim which 
can spring from his relation to us as our Creator and our 
Redeemer. All Christians are bound by every tie of love, 
of gratitude, of regard to their own happiness, and of desire 
for the glory of their Lord, " to live, not unto themselves, 
but unto him which died for them, and rose again." Chris- 
tians are in the highest sense the " peculiar people " — that 
is, the property of the Saviour, whom he has an entire right 
to place where he pleases, to employ in whatever service he 
may choose, and to subject to whatever trials and labors 
may be best adapted to promote his own glory and the 
prosperity of his kingdom. No Christian, therefore, is at 
liberty to consult his own taste or inclination alone, nor to 
seek exclusively his own advantage. Every Christian ought 
to inquire with a humble, grateful spirit of self-consecration 
to the Saviour's cause, *' Lord, what wilt thou have me to 
do?" There is, in a certain sense, a call to every service 
in which a Christian can be engaged, and he ought not to 
take any important step without seeking by prayer, by 
observing the providences of God, and by listening to the 
intimations of the Spirit, to know what is the divine will. 
A call to the ministry, I conceive, differs from a call to 
occupy any other post in the service of the Saviour, not so 
much in its nature as in its importance. The office of the 
ministry is more important, and therefore requires higher 
quahfications ; but the minister's duty to live for the Sav- 
iour is no stronger, and indeed no other than the obligation 
which embraces every Christian. 



WHAT IS A CALL TO THE mNISTRY 1 5 

From this principle then, my decar brother, we deduce 
this rule, that a7i entire willingness to serve the Saviour 
in the ministry, or in any other post, is one necessary qual- 
ification of a minister. This willingness, I am happy to 
believe, you sincerely cherish. Ever pray that it may 
continue to influence all your conduct. It will be a source 
of peace to whatever sphere of duty the Saviour may direct 
you. Affectionately yours. 



LETTER III. 



My dear Brother — Another general principle which 
the Scriptures teach is, that it is the duty of every Chris- 
tian to contribute all in his power to the promotion of truth 
and holiness. Nothing less than the utmost exertion of 
all his faculties can fulfil his duty. It becomes, then, a 
question which every Christian ought seriously and prayer- 
fully to examine, Hoio can I he most useful? As God has 
given to men different degrees of ability, he has evidently 
designed them for different stations. The parable of the 
talents is founded on this principle, and it teaches us the 
consolatory truth, that the faithful servant will be approved 
and rewarded by his master, whether he possess ten talents 
or but one. The reasoning of the apostle Paul, in the 12th 
chapter of Romans, proceeds on the fact, that there are 
different offices to be filled, and that different qualifications 
are given to those who are designed to occupy them : " As 
we have many members in one body, and all members have 
not the same office, so we, being many, are one body in 
Christ, and every one members one of another. Having 
then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to 
us, whether prophecy, let us prophesy according to the 

VOL. VTII. 28 



6 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE ftHNISTRY ? 

proportion of faith ; or ministry, let ns wait on our minis- 
tering ; or he tliat teacheth, on teaching ; or he that ex- 
horteth^ on exhortation ; he that giveth, let him do it with 
simplicity ; he that ruleth, with diligence ; he that showeth 
mercy, with cheerfulness." We may, then, safely adopt 
this general rule, that wherever God has given to an indi- 
vidual the qualifications for a particular work, he ought to 
eno^ao'e in that work. There would otherwise seem to be a 
waste of power. In the human body, each organ is evi- 
dently intended for its appropriate service. There is no- 
thing deficient, and nothing superfluous. In the body of 
Christ the case is similar. God has undoubtedly distributed 
among her members all needful gifts foi her preservation 
and growth. It is to be lamented that these gifts are not 
always judiciously and faithfully employed. 

The principle now under consideration supplies us with 
two important rules, which may assist a young man to as- 
certain his duty respecting the ministry. 

1. That he ought himself to he convinced, on reasonable 
grounds, that he loould he more useful as a miiiistei' than in 
any other sphere of duty. 

2. That he ought to possess, in the opinion of others 
who are competent to judge, the essential qualifications for the 
ministry. 

The judicious Andrew Fuller has accordingly stated, in 
his brief remarks on a '' Call to the Ministry," that it is a 
principle which may be taken for granted, that " whoever 
possesses the essential qualifications for the Christian minis- 
try, is called to exercise them." I will, in my next letter, 
consider what light may be reflected on the path of duty 
from the providence of God. 

Afl'ectionately yours. 



WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY 1 



LETTER IV. 

My dear Brother — I mean to use the phrase provi- 
dence of God, as includmg whatever God has done for a^ 
man, m respect to his endowments of body and of mind, the 
situation in which he is placed, and his duties and relations 
to his fellow-men. 

That the physical constitution has some bearing on the 
question of duty respecting the ministry, is evident. A 
dumb man could not be a minister, whatever might be his 
mental and spiritual qualifications. A man whose health 
was greatly impaired, or whose constitution was so feeble 
as to preclude the hope of efficiency, ought not to enter on 
the work. In all such cases, the providence of God has 
decided the question. 

The constitution of the mind has a still more direct 
connection with the subject. A man must have such a 
degree of understanding as to enable him to learn and to 
teach, or he cannot be fit for a minister. This degree we 
cannot fix in theory, though there will be little difficulty, 
perhaps, in deciding the point m practice. A feeble mind, 
which cannot manage ordinary affairs with success ; a dull 
mind, which cannot learn ; an eccentric mind, which prompts 
a man to say and do imprudent things ; an indolent mind, 
which will not study ; a very irascible temper, and other 
bad qualities of this kind, ought to be regarded as evidence 
that God does not intend the individual for the ministry. 
The qualifications specified in 1 Tim. 3 : 1-7, and Titus 
1 : 5-9, should be carefully considered. 

I say nothing here of an ignorant mind, because such a 
mind may be instructed, if it possess the ability and dispo- 
sition. And here, my brother, allow me to make a sugges- 
tion, which is, I conceive, very unportant. The question. 



8 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY ? 

Am I called to be a mhiister ? does not include the ques- 
tion, Is it my duty now to preach ? Much of the eiror 
which exists on this subject among the churches, and much 
of the embarrassment which often distresses the minds of 
young Christians, spring from confounding these questions. 
The inquiry, in most cases, ought to be, Is it my duty to 
PREPARE to preach the Gospel ? It may be a man's duty 
to be acquiring the quahfications for the ministry, who is 
not yet fit to preach. This is too plain, it would seem, to 
need proof. Yet it may be profitable to illustrate this 
point. Paul informs us that he was separated and design- 
ed for the ministry from his birth. Gal. 1:15. The same 
fact is asserted by Jehovah himself concerning Jeremiah. 
Jer. 1:5. And all who believe in the foreknowledge of 
God, must believe that this is true of all the ministers 
whom he appoints. Some eminent ministers, like Dr. 
Doddridge, became pious in childhood. If Dr. Doddridge, 
while a child, had been informed by Jehovah that he was 
designed for the ministry, would it have been his duty then 
to commence preaching ? Certainly not. It would have 
been his duty to devote himself to an earnest preparation 
for the work. If, then, a case might happen, in which the 
individual would be called, not to preach, but to prepare to 
preach, why should we suppose it unreasonable to conclude 
that God often does, by his providence and his Spirit, call 
men to the ministry, to be exercised not now, but when 
they shall have acquired the necessary preparation ? Our 
Saviour called his apostles, not to preach immediately, but 
to be disciples, that is, learners, and when they were in- 
structed, he sent them forth to proclaim his Gospel. 

If this reasoning is correct, the difficulty which seriously 
embarrasses many young men, the want of sufficient educa- 
tion, is removed. It is a plain case, that God does not call 
a man to preach immediately, who is incapable of teaching. 



WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY ? 9 

It would be an impeachment of his wisdom to suppose it. 
But he may call a man to prepare to preach. If a young 
man, then, has the other qualifications, his want of educa- 
tion is not a reason for doubting whether he is called to be 
a minister; that is, to be a minister Avhen he shall have 
made all suitable preparation. And at this time, when 
Education Societies are ready to assist every suitable ap- 
plicant, and when seminaries of learning are so numerous, 
almost every young man may, if he will, obtain a competent 
education. 

This view of the case, too, shows how unfounded is the 
objection, which is often made by Christians, to a course of 
education for the ministry. If, say they, a man is called to 
preach, he ought to preach, and not to spend his time at 
college, or at the theological seminary. But they mistake 
the point. If the call is to pit'epare to preach, the young 
man would disobey God if he should preach instead of 
pursuing his studies. Let, then, Christians beware how 
they censure young men, and entice them from their books. 
They undoubtedly often resist the will of God by such an 
interference, and destroy the usefulness of the unhappy 
man Avhom they have persuaded to misinterpret his call, 
and enter the field before he was prepared. This course 
of reasoning, too, shows that it is an injurious and wrono- 
practice, to give a young man a license to preach before he 
is prepared. The practice of the churches on this subject 
ought to be conformed to the indications of God's will. If 
the call is to prepare to preach, the church ought to give a 
young man, of whose other qualifications they are satisfied, 
an expression of their approbation of such a course of prep- 
aration, reserving the license for that period when he shall 
have acquired a sufficient amount of knowledge and expe- 
rience to enable him to teach. 

Affectionately yours. 
VOL. VIIL 28=^ 



10 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MLMSTRY? 

LETTER V. 

My dear Brother — We may reasonably suppose that 
if God designs a young man for the ministry, his provi- 
dence will furnish some intimation of his will besides the 
proper endowments of body and mind. The individual 
may expect to see, in his situation, in his pursuits, in his 
connection with others, a variety of circumstances concur- 
ring to point out his duty. The hand of God will be 
presented to guide his steps. There will be, especially, a 
removal of obstacles. These may spring from the opposi- 
tion of parents or employers, in the case of a minor ; from 
various ensaffements which cannot be violated without sin, 
and a release from which cannot be obtained ; from pecu- 
niary obligations ; from domestic ties ; and from a great 
variety of other causes. A man may be sure that while 
any lawful engagement which he cannot honorably disre- 
gard, opposes his entrance into the ministry, he must not 
proceed. He may use all proper means to obtain a release, 
but if this is impossible, he must submit. The minister 
must have a spotless reputation, and the scandal of violated 
engagements would destroy his usefulness. He must wait 
patiently, and if the difficulty is never removed, he must 
forego the privilege of preaching the Gospel. But a re- 
moval of the obstacle, especially if it takes place in such a 
way as to make the interference of God manifest, may be 
an encouraging indication of his will in reference to the 
ministry. 

There are circumstances, too, in which a young man is 
sometimes placed, which impel him towards the ministry 
without any volition, or indeed consciousness of the fact, on 
his part. In the Sabbath-school he may be required, by a 
sense of duty, to take a prominent place. In conference 
and prayer-meetings the absence or supineness of others 



WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY? H 

may force him to become the leader. In some cases, where 
a chm-ch is destitute of a pastor, a young man may be urged 
by his brethren to read, and pray, and address the assem- 
bly, till he finds himself considered by others as a minister, 
and his own heart is too much interested to allow him to 
retrace his steps. This was almost literally the case with 
Andrew Fuller. Such providential events are among the 
strongest external evidences of a call to the ministry. 

But the general opinion of Christians, among whom a 
young man is placed, that he is designed for the ministry, 
may be considered as the most satisfactory proof which can 
be furnished by God's providence. Respecting many of the 
necessary qualifications a man is not himself a sufficient 
judge. Of his talents, his piety, his prudence, his zeal for 
the glory of God, his aptness to teach, and his poAver to 
interest and benefit others, his brethren are better able to 
judge than himself. If, then. Christians around him come 
gradually to think that he is designed for the ministry, 
while he himself makes no disclosure of his feelings on the 
subject ; or if, when he mentions it, he finds their minds 
prepared to approve and to encourage him, he may con- 
sider this concurrent opinion of Christians as a strong indi- 
cation of the will of God. He ought not, it is true, to de- 
cide without that internal conviction of duty, of which I 
shall soon speak ; but the favorable judgment of Christians 
ought greatly to strengthen that conviction. On the other 
hand, it may be established as a general rule, that a person 
ought to suspect the ground of such a conviction, if judi- 
cious and pious men around do not perceive in him minis- 
terial gifts, and cannot bid him God speed. There are, 
without doubt, cases, in which the ignorance or prejudices 
of Christians may induce them to refuse their countenance 
and aid to a young man, and he may be forced to act from 
his own sense of duty. He would need, however, unusual- 



12 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY 1 

[y strong evidences of his call, to authorize him to proceed 
in opposition to the opinion of his brethren. 

AflFectionately yours. 



LETTER VI. 

My dear Brother — I now approach, with some sohci- 
tude, the most important and difficult part of this subject. 
The internal call, hy the operation of the Holy Spirit on the 
heart, is, we fully believe, indispensable. But the mode of 
that operation cannot be described, for the same reason that 
we cannot define the mode in which the Spirit accomplishes 
the call of a sinner from darkness to light. In both cases, 
we can do no more than describe some of the effects. 

I have spoken, in Letter II., of the entire willingness 
which a man must feel to serve the Saviour in the ministry, 
or in any other sphere of duty. This willingness is a fruit 
of the Spirit. There must be, besides this, a decided desire 
to be thus employed. Such a desire is referred to by Paul. 
*' This is a true saying, if a man desire the office of a bishop, 
he desireth a good work." There is not necessarily any im- 
modesty, any ambitious aspiration in the desire to be a min- 
ister ; but it is taken for granted, as Mr. Fuller remarks, that 
" this desire shall spring from a pure motive, and not from 
the love of ease, affluence, or applause. It is necessary, in 
my judgment," he continues, " that there should be a spe- 
cial desire of this sort, a kind of fire kindled in the bosom, 
that it would be painful to extinguish." 

This desire will not be that transient impulse of zeal 
which usually impels young Christians to be active in relig- 
ious duties, and to think that it would be a privilege to 
preach the Gospel, because they could thus be more use- 
ful. This feeling generally subsides into a calm principle 



WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MLNISTRY 1 13 

of benevolent activ ity in the particular sphere in which God 
may have placed tlie individual. But if a man is designed 
for the ministry this desire will increase. The value of the 
soul, the ruin and danger of impenitent sinners, and the 
rapid approach of eternity, will press themselves with great 
solemnity on his mind. He will feel an irrepressible desire 
to warn sinners of their danger, and to beseech them, in 
Christ's stead, to be reconciled to God. He wull thus warn 
and beseech them, when he has an opportunity, either in 
private or in the Sabbath-school, or in the prayer-meeting. 
He will desire to be wholly occupied in thus persuading 
men to be reconciled to God ; and the ministry, though he 
feels it to be awfully responsible and arduous, will appear 
to him desirable, because it would enable him to extend 
more widely his endeavors to turn his fellow-men from 
darkness to light, and to prepare them for the judgment- 
day. 

But besides this earnest and unceasing desire to be em- 
ployed in the ministerial office, there will be a conviction of 
duty to be thus engaged. The individual will feel so strong 
an impulse of soul towards this point, so entire a concentra- 
tion of his thoughts and affections, that he cannot with a 
quiet mind think of pursuing any other employment. The 
condition of impenitent sinners, the urgent need of pastors 
for the destitute churches at home, and of missionaries to 
preach the Gospel to those who sit in darkness, will occupy 
his thoughts, will be the theme of his conversation, and will 
sometimes so excite his feehngs that he cannot rest. He 
looks around on the ordinary pursuits of men, and feels that 
they are all comparatively trifling. He cannot endure the 
thought of spending his life in such pursuits. He is willing 
to renounce all worldly prospects for the sake of his Saviour 
and of his fellow-men. Though he is willing to do what 
his Lord may direct, yet he cannot think with satisfaction 



14 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY 1 

of any other course of life than that which shall allow him 
the privilege of preaching the Gospel. He is fully aware 
that the ministry is arduous and responsible ; and that 
human wisdom and strength are not " sufficient for these 
things." But he is not dismayed. He is willing to en- 
counter the toil, and the self-denial ; and his trust is in the 
Saviour, that his grace will be sufficient for him. 

And all these feelings will be the strongest at those 
hours when his mind is most spiritual ; when he enjoys the 
most communion with God ; when the Saviour is the most 
precious to his soul, and when eternity rises to his view 
w^ith the most distinctness, solemnity, and grandeur. It is 
in his closet, alone before God, that he feels most deeply 
the duty of devoting his life to the sacred work ; and it is 
then that he can, with the utmost simplicity and godly sin- 
cerity, offer himself to his Redeemer, to be his servant, say- 
ing, " Here, Lord, am I, send me. Employ me as thou 
mayest please. Send me whither thou shalt choose, even 
if it be to the ends of the earth. Appoint for me prosper- 
ity or suffering, as thou mayest judge to be best ; but allow 
me the privilege of preaching thy Gospel to perishing men. 
Make me the instrument of saving them from sin and from 
wrath ; and grant me thy presence, in life and in death, and 
I ask no more." 

These, my brother, are some of the feelings which the 
Holy Spirit produces in the heart of that man whom he 
designs for the ministry. They may not be experienced in 
an equal degree by all who are called to preach the Gos- 
pel ; but he who has never felt such emotions ought to 
doubt whether it is his duty to be a minister. 

He, on the contrary, who does feel them, and who at 
the same time is conscious that from pure motives he de- 
sires to be engaged in the ministry, may be satisfied that 
the Holy Spirit is moving him to the work ; and if the prov- 



WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY ? 15 

idence of God seems to point in the same direction ; if ob- 
stacles are removed from his path ; if circumstances concur 
to promote his wishes ; if there is nothing adverse in his 
mental or physical constitution ; and especially, if judicious 
and pious friends concur in the opinion that he possesses 
suitable gifts for the ministry, he ought not to hesitate. 
His call is clear. It has the distinct signature of the divine 
hand. Let him at once surrender himself to the Saviour's 
service, and prosecute with all diligence the necessary prep- 
aration for the great and arduous, but most glorious office 
of preaching Christ crucified as " the way, the truth, and 
the life," He will need great mental as well as spiritual 
resources, and he must employ all the means in his power 
to cultivate his mind and to grow in grace. If circum- 
stances allow him to obtain a thorough education, he would 
be guilty if he neglected them. If he cannot prosecute an 
extensive course of study, let him do what he can, and his 
Master will aid, approve, and reward him. 

Affectionately yours. 



LETTER YII. 



My dear Brother — I have endeavored, in the preced- 
ing letters, to lay before you all the considerations which 
seem to me necessary to enable you to decide the question 
of duty respecting the ministry. You alone can judge re- 
specting the application to yourself of several of the rules 
which I have mentioned. Allow me to present them again 
to your mind in the form of questions ; and may He who 
judges the heart enable you to examine faithfully your feel- 
ings and motives. 

o 

Are you satisfied that you have been born again ; and 
can you, like Peter, sa}^ " Lord, thou knowest all things. 



16 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY? 

thou knowest that I love thee ?" Do you habitually re- 
gard yourself as not your own, but as under sacred obhga- 
tions to live, not unto yourself, but unto Him who died for 
you and rose again ? And do you feel an entire willingness 
to serve him, either in the ministry, or in the humblest sta- 
tion which he may please to appoint for you ? Do you con- 
stantly feel it to be your duty to be as useful as possible ; 
and do you seize every opportunity of usefulness which is 
presented to you by the providence of God ? Are you 
active in the Sabbath-school, punctual at the conference and 
prayer-meeting, and always ready to admonish and plead 
with the impenitent ? Does a strong love for the Saviour's 
cause, and for the souls of men, warm your heart ; and do 
you desire to be a minister of the Gospel, that you may be 
entirely devoted to the work of spreading the knowledge 
of Christ and him crucified ? Are you conscious that this 
desire springs from pure motives, from sincere love to the 
Saviour and compassion to perishing men, and not from 
ambition, nor from a wish for ease and emolument ? 

Are you solemnly impressed with a sense of duty to 
preach the Gospel ? Do you find your thoughts and feel- 
ings strongly directed towards the ministry, as the sphere 
in which, as you believe, you may be the most useful and 
the most happy ? Does every other employment seem to 
you uninviting and irksome, not from indolence, but because 
you feel that your life may be spent more profitably in 
pleading the Saviour's cause with men ? Do you feel that 
it would render you unhappy, and make life a melancholy 
scene, if you should be denied the privilege of preaching 
the Gospel ? And in your most devotional hours, when 
souls appear the most valuable, and the Gospel the most 
important and glorious, and your spirit draws the nearest 
to God, does the ministry then appear the most inviting, 
your duty the most plain, and your motives satisfactory to 



WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MLNISTRY ? 17 

your own mind ? And, finally, does the providence of God 
seem to indicate his will ? Are you free from every en- 
gagement which might prevent your entrance on the minis- 
try, and do the difficulties in the way disappear ? 

If you can, my dear brother, in the fear of God, an- 
swer these questions in the affirmative, you may confidently 
believe that you are called to the ministry, so far as that 
call can be inferred from your own feelings and observation. 
There are other points, relating to your physical and men- 
tal constitution, your moral character, and your general 
habits, of which your brethren must judge. You ought to 
consult them, and if they are satisfied that you possess gifts 
which, with proper cultivation, w411 make you a useful min- 
ister, you have all the evidence which you can have, with- 
out a revelation from heaven, that it is your duty to preach 
the Gospel. I believe, my brother, you do possess the 
internal and the outward testimonials of God's will ; and I 
earnestly exhort you to hesitate no longer, but to arise and 
commence your preparation for the great work. I rejoice 
to observe your conscientious anxiety to ascertain your duty 
before you proceed. It is, indeed, of immense importance 
to be satisfied on this point ; for no minister can be happy, 
or very useful, who is in doubt respecting his call to preach 
the Gospel. I need say nothing of the minister who has 
either ignorantly or presumptuously entered the sacred 
office, and still finds himself without love to the Saviour. 
Such a minister, even admitting his deportment to be moral, 
is, nevertheless, a hinderance to the progress of religion ; 
while he, as it has been strongly said, " pursues the hardest 
road to hell which a man can travel." 

But, my brother, you may offend God by demanding 

proofs of his will which he may not be pleased to give. If 

you have the evidences which I have mentioned, you may 

and ought to proceed. That you may thus decide, and that 

VOL. VIII. 29 



18 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MINISTRY? 

God may make you a blessing to his church, and an instru- 
ment of turning many to righteousness, is my earnest prayer. 
You will find the ministry laborious, and attended by many 
trials of patience and of faith. But it has many precious 
consolations and pleasures now, and there is reserved a glo- 
rious crown in heaven for all the faithful servants of our 
Lord. " They that be wise shall shine as the brightness 
of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness, 
as the stars for ever and ever." 

If my voice could reach all the young men in the 
churches, I would now say to them, " My dear brethren, 
in what way will you serve the Saviour ? How can you do 
most for his glory, and for perishing men ? Why is it not 
your duty to preach the Gospel ? Examine yourselves ; 
apply the preceding observations to your own hearts, and 
alone, before God, with the cross of Christ, the world lying 
in wickedness, and the judgment-day before you, inquire, 
* Lord, what w^ilt thou have me to do ?' " 

And to the pastom and churches I would sa}^. You have 
in this matter an important duty to perform. You ought 
to seek out the young men who furnish evidence of minis- 
terial gifts. You ought to converse with them, and to en- 
courage them. Often, it may be feared, do pastors and 
churches neglect their duty on this point. Young men are 
left to struggle with their feelings, without one word of 
advice or encouragement. The more modest they are, and 
therefore the more deserving of sympathy, the more reluc- 
tant they are to disclose their feelings, lest they should be 
attributed to pride and presumption. A sense of unfitness, 
the greatness of the work, doubts concerning duty, all 
throng upon the mind, and often produce inconceivable dis- 
tress, which one word of kind sympathy and advice from a 
pastor or Christian friend might remove. Many young 
men, it cannot be doubted, who ought to preach the Gos- 



WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MLNISTRY ? 19 

pel, are overcome by these anxieties, doubts, and fears, and 
relinquish the thought of the ministry. It is a mistake to 
suppose, that if it is a man's duty to preach, he will force 
his way through every obstacle. A man may neglect to 
preach as he may fail to perform any other duty ; and he is 
the more liable to neglect this duty, because the conscien- 
tious mind will probably consider it a less sin to refuse to 
preach, though it be a duty, than to preach when it is not. 
If his doubts preponderate in the smallest degree, the mind 
of a conscientious man will be very liable to abandon the 
design, and thus the very best ministers may be lost to the 
church. 

But if a young man surmounts his doubts and discour- 
agements, and makes his case known to his brethren, he is 
sometimes treated with cold suspicion, and obstacles are 
thrown in his way on purpose to test the strength of his 
zeal. And if, at last, the proper encouragement is given, 
so much time may have been wasted, that it is too late to 
enter upon the work with advantage. 

There may be cases, too, in which a young man may 
not have thought of the ministry, who may, nevertheless, 
furnish evidence of piety, talents, and zeal, which would 
make him useful as a minister. It is undoubtedly the duty 
of pastors and Christians to converse with such a person, 
in a judicious manner; to inquire respecting his feelings ; to 
ask him if it is not his duty to preach the Gospel ; to urge 
him to reflect and pray on the subject ; and thus give his 
mind a direction towards the object. No reason can be 
given why it is not as much our duty to use the proper 
means in this case, as it is to persuade a sinner to be recon- 
ciled to God. In both cases God may employ us as instru- 
ments to accomplish his will. 

May God preserve us all from the guilt of neglecting 
our own duty, and of hindering others. May he send forth 



20 WHAT IS A CALL TO THE MLMSTRY1 

many laborers into liis harvest, and may his kingdom come, 
and his will be done on earth, as it is in heaven. 

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you, my 
brother, and with all who love him in sincerity. 

Your affectionate BROTHER. 

Note. — A premium, offered by a friend, was awarded to the 
author of this Tract 



HERALDS OF THE GOSPEL. 

How beauteous are their feet 

Who stand on Zion's hill ! 
Who bring salvation on their tongues. 

And words of peace reveal. 

How charming is their voice ! 

How sweet the tidings are ! 
" Zion, behold thy Saviour King ; 

He reigns and triumphs here." 

How happy are our ears, 

That hear this joyful sound. 
Which kings and prophets waited for, 

And sought, but never found ! 

How blessed are our eyes, 

That see this heavenly light ; 
Prophets and kings desired it long, 

But died without the sight ! 

The watchmen join their voice. 

And tuneful notes employ ; 
Jerusalem breaks forth in songs, 

And deserts leara the joy. Watu. 



DYING TESTIMONY 



OF 



BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS 



COLLECTED FROM AUTHENTIC SOURCES. 



BY W. C. BROWNLEE, D. D. 







Christianity has its living icitncsses, whose testimony 
is " known and read of all men." In these are held forth 
the truth and divinity of the Christian religion, in its life, 
beauty, and fascinating charms of holiness. This evidence 
is vivid and affecting, the manifest result of a divine efficacy 
put forth in the formation of Christian character. It is seen 
and known to be of God, by all Avho have eyes to see and 
hearts to understand. It is evidence, at once striking and 
convincing. It exhibits an efect for which no human wis- 
dom or power can ever be deemed an adequate cause. It 
VOL. VIII. 29* 



I>YL\G TESTlMOxNY OF 



is ever present before the eyes of men ; exhibiting the same 
heavenly traits from generation to generation. And when 
a uniformly consistent and holy life is closed by a dying 
testimony, the evidence is then complete. 

We should not, therefore, separate the consistent hfe of 
godliness from the dying testimony of the saints. The two 
combined constitute an invaluable living epistle to the honor 
of Christ Jesus and his holy religion. 

It is true, the Christiaji, after a consistent course of holi- 
ness, may depart this life without an opportunity of bearing 
his dying testimony. He may die suddenly, or in the delir- 
ium of a fever — safely as to his state, it is true, but without 
having the honor and the felicity of bearing a dying testi- 
mony for his Lord. 

In other instances, dying Christians, having lived too 
much in the spirit of the world, have exhibited great mental 
distress under the hidings of God's countenance. The cele- 
brated Hugo Grotius in the bitterness of his spirit cried 
out, " Oh, I have consumed my days in a laborious trifling. 
I would give all my learning and honor for the plain integ- 
rity of poor John Urich !" This was a poor neighbor of his, 
who usually spent eight hours a day in prayer. When Sal- 
MASius, one of the finest scholars of his age, came to die, he 
cried out, " Oh, I have lost a world of time : the most pre- 
cious thinof in the world. Oh, sirs, mind the world less, and 
God more !" The famous Swiss physician. Baron Haller, 
was in great darkness and distress of mind an his death-bed ; 
he bewailed his misspent time, and solemnly warned those 
about him to devote their time to God. He was enabled 
at last, however, to express his renewed confidence in God's 
mercy, through Jesus Christ. The case of Dr. Samuel 
Johnson, the colossus of English hterature, was very sim- 
ilar to this. It was not until the pure light of evangelical 
truth broke in upon his mind that he obtained true Chris- 
tian peace. 



BELIEVERS A^D UXBELIEVERP. 3 

The deaths of men of the world, and the enemies of 
Christ, we cannot contemplate without salutary instruction 
and solemn warning. I might refer to many recorded in 
the Bible, such as that of Pharaoh ; of Korah ; of the two 
sons of Aaron, who perished under the influence of wine, in 
the act of offering, like the infidel, " strange fire on God's 
altar;" of Achan, whose heinous crimes brought sudden 
death on thirty-six men, and a fearful retribution on him- 
self; and Balaam, who sacrificed his allegiance to God, and 
his own honor, conscience, and life, to the lust of ambition ; 
Absalom, the unnatural child and rebellious subject ; King 
Ahab, and his queen Jezebel, who met the fearful doom of 
the persecutors of Christ and his people ; Haman, the un- 
principled statesman, who sought to sacrifice the people of 
God on the altar of his personal ambition, and who was 
hurried suddenly to the very gibbet which his hands had 
reared for his rival ; Judas Iscariot, who betrayed our 
Lord, and whose doom was thus written by God — " Good 
ivere it for that man had he never been horn /" Ananias 
and Sapphira, who "lied unto God the Holy Ghost," and 
perished in the act of their sin ; and Elymas, the false 
prophet, who was smitten blind while he opposed the Gos- 
pel of Christ : but we shall select the following. 

Julian the Apostate sought to destroy the Christian 
religion, and its ministry, by depriving them of their schools 
and the means of education. He avowed it as his object to 
show the falsity of the Scripture predictions respecting the 
temple ; and for this purpose he gave orders that it should 
be rebuilt, and the Jews' worship set up again. But, as 
historians relate, he was utterly defeated ; balls of fire issu- 
ino- out of the foundation, scatterinor the materials and over- 
whelming the workmen with terror. He fell in battle, fight- 
ing against the Persians. Finding himself mortally wounded, 
he received a handful of his gushing blood, and thi-ew it 
up towards heaven, ''in spite," says one historian, ''against 



4 DYLNG TESTIMONY OF 

the sun, the idol of the Persians, which fought against him ;" 
but more probably, as other respectable historians state, 
" in malio-nant hatred aoainst Christ ;" who also add, that 
"as he hurled the blood upward, he cried, Thou hast con- 
quered, Galilean!'' 

Antiochus IV. was an unrelenting enemy of the church 
of God. In a furious passion he vowed the utter ruin of 
Jerusalem and the people of God. He took an oath that 
he would make it a national sepulchre for the Jews, and 
extirpate them to a man. But even while the words were 
in his mouth the wrath of God fell on him, and smote him 
with a horrible disease. In spite of all the arts of his phy- 
sicians, his body became a mass of putrefaction, whence 
there issued an incredible number of worms ; and the 
torture of his mind was infinitely superior to that of his 
body. And before he sunk into a delirium he acknow- 
ledged that it was the hand of the Almighty that had 
crushed him. 

And by the same form of disease Philip II. of Spain 
perished ; a persecutor of Christians, more bigoted and 
more bloody than either of the former. His flesh consumed 
away on his bones, by incurable ulcers, which sent forth 
innumerable swarms of worms, so that nobody could ap- 
proach him without fainting. His shrieks and groans were 
heard over the palace. 

Alexander Campbell was a Dominican friar, who stood 
by and assailed the Scottish martyr, Patrick Hamilton. 
After the martyr was in the flames, and the powder, having 
exploded, had severely scorched his hand and his face, this 
impious man cried out incessantly to him, " Repent, heretic. 
Call on our lady, and say. Hail, Manj !'' The martyr 
meekly replied, "Depart from me, thou messenger of Satan, 
and trouble not my last moments." But, as he still uttered 
with great vehemence, " Pray to our lady ; say. Hail, Mary /" 
the martyr turned his eyes on him and said, " thou vilest 



BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 5 

of men, thou knowest in thy conscience that these doctrines 
which thou condemnest are true, and this thou didst confess 
to me in secret. I cite thee to answer for this at the judg- 
ment-seat of Christ." Buchanan and Knox add, that the 
friar in a short time became distracted, and died in the 
ragings of despair. Scot's Worthies. 

John Nisbet, a lawyer of Glasgow, was a mocker of 
piety, and a drunkard. In 1681, when the martyr, the 
Rev. Donald Cargill, was on the way to the scene of his 
sufferings for Christ's cause and crown, this man cruelly in- 
sulted him in public. As the martyr stood in chains, he 
said to him, *' Mr. Donald " — Mr. Cargill, whom he thus ad- 
dressed, was an aged man, his hair as white as snow ; he 
had been long the eloquent minister of the High Church of 
Glasgow, loved iind revered by all good men — '' Mr. Donald, 
will you give us one word ?nore?" alluding, in mockery, to 
a familiar phrase which this eminent man of God frequently 
used when summing up his discourses. The martyr turned 
his eyes in tears of sorrow and regret on him, and said to 
him, in that deep and solemn tone so peculiar to him, 
"Mock not, lest your bands be made strong." He added, 
after a solemn pause, " That day is coming when you shall 
not have one word to say, though you would !" The histo- 
rian Wodrow adds, " Not many days after this, the Lord 
was pleased to lay his hands on that bad man. At Glas- 
gow, where he lived, he fell suddenly ill, and for three 
days his tongue swelled, and though he seemed very ear- 
nest to speak, yet he could not command one word, and he 
died in great torment and seeming terror." This faithful 
historian, who published his great work in folio, *' The His- 
tory of the Sufferings of the Church," etc., in the year 1722, 
has added these words : " Some yet alive knoio the truth of 
this passage.'' Vol. 3, p. 279, 8vo edit. 

HoBBES, after spreading atheism among some of the 
first men of the nation, and corrupting the youth, said with 



6 DYLXG TESTIMONY OF 

horror, in his hist moments, " I am taking a fearful leap in 
the dark.'' 

Voltaire died amid the impious adulations of France, 
one of the most miserable of human beings in this world, 
smitten by the visible stroke of the Almighty, crying out in 
the horrors of despair on the name of Christ at one time, 
and at another, on the names of his associates and admirers, 
whom he execrated, and cvu-sed as the cause of his ruin 
and abandonment of heaven. Wilson's Evid. of Chris. 

"David Hume died as a philosopher dies," said Dr. 
Smith in his memoir. But he and Laurence Sterne are 
among the few instances of men who died as the fool dieth ; 
or affected to do so. The former, " the philosophical liisto- 
rian," relieved the agitations of his mind by his favorite 
whist, and by puerile attempts at wit, in fabricating dia- 
logues between himself and the fictitious Charon. The 
latter, "the clerical buffoon," as Simpson calls him, when 
he came to be in dying circumstances, perceiving death to 
make his advances upward, affected to be witty ; raising 
himself up in his bed, he is said, either in real or pretended 
rage, to have sworn at the sly assassin death, that he should 
not kill him yet! But it is now well known in the literary 
and religious world, that Hume died in extreme agony and 
horror of mind. His nurse, a truly respectable woman, has 
detailed the dreadful secret, and expressed her fervent de- 
sire never to witness such another horrible death-bed scene.* 

Thomas Paine was another who, as some yet alive in 
the city of New York know, yielded up his troubled spirit 
in a tempest of agony and despair ; alternately uttering 
fearful execrations, and calhng on the insulted name of 
Jesus Christ. 

Francis Spira, a Venetian lawyer of the sixteenth cen- 
tury, who had deliberately violated his conscience, and 

* See Professor Silli man's Journal in Europe, and several re- 
cent statements. 



BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 7 

denied his God, seemed to be forsaken of his Maker, and 
given up to the horrors of despair ; his body was wasted 
away to a skeleton, w^hile an unquenchable fire consumed 
his soul. 

Thomas Scot, a privy councillor of James Y. of Scot- 
land, was a noted persecutor of tlie reformers. Being 
taken suddenly ill, and finding himself dying, he cried out 
to the Roman priests who sought to comfort him, " Begone, 
you and your trumpery ; until this moment I believed that 
there was neither a God nor a hell. Now I know and I feel 
that there are both, and I am doomed to perdition by the 
just judgment of the Almighty." Scot's Worthies, Appen- 
dix, p. 7. 

Cardinal Mazarine cried out with tears in his last 
moments, "0 my poor soul, what is to become of thee? 
Whither w^ilt thou go ? 0, were I permitted to live again, 
I would sooner be the humblest wretch in the ranks of 
mendicants than a courtier." 

Charles IX., king of France, Avas young in years, but 
old in crime. He plotted the horrid massacre of the Prot- 
estants in his kingdom. AVithin a few days 30,000 ; others 
say 50,000 ; another writer, 100,000 Protestants were 
butchered in cold blood. " Being stricken in early life by 
an incurable disease, these scenes, so shocking to humanity, 
presented themselves in fearful array to his guilty mind," 
and, as an accurate recorder of events says, " produced on 
his death-bed the appalling exhibition of a tortured con- 
science and an aveno-ino- heaven." 

The case of Lord P is detailed by Mr. Simpson 

in his " Plea.'" He was an apostate, a deist, and a mocker 
of religion. On his dying bed his conscience was over- 
whelmed with horror at what he had done. In this agony 
of mind he called to a person to "go and bring that cursed 
book," meaning the work by which he had been seduced 
into deism ; " I cannot die until T destroy it." It was put 



8 DYIXG TESTIMONY OF 

into his hands. With mingled horror and revenge he tore 
it into pieces, and hurled it into the flames, and soon after 
died in great horrors. Evang. Mag., June, 1797. 

William Pope of Bolton was an apostate from religion. 
He united with a society of deists, who spent the Sabbath- 
day in confirming each other in deism, and in every outrage 
aorainst the Holy Bible and the Christian relio-ion. But the 
judgments of God soon fell on him. In his fatal illness he 
exclaimed, " Oh, I long to die, that I may be in the place 
of perdition — that I may know the worst of it." Being in a 
fearful agony, in his last moments he exclaimed with a 
doleful moan, " My damnation is sealed." This he repeated 
until he expired. See Meth. Mag., August, 1798, and Simp- 
son's Plea. 

The Duke of Rothes was the president of the supreme 
national council of Scotland under Charles II., and one of 
the chief instruments who conducted the revolting persecu- 
tions of that day. In early life he had made a profession 
of religion. But he forgot the example, and disappointed 
the pious hopes of his religious father. He became an 
apostate, and was one of seven public men who were sol- 
emnly excommunicated by the Rev. Mr. Donald Cargill. 
On the morning of the day in which this minister, Mr. Car- 
gill, was led to the scaffold — and it is a memorable fact 
that he was condemned in the court of the lords of the jus- 
ticiary by the casting-vote of Lord Rothes — Rothes was 
taken suddenly ill with a fatal distemper. The near pros- 
pect of eternity awakened the horrors of his sleeping con- 
science, the very bed shook under him, and his piercing 
cries of agony were heard over the neighborhood. By his 
request, the ministers of the Presbyterian church, whom 
he had persecuted, were assembled at his bedside to pray 
for him. While the Duke of Hamilton and the other no- 
bles and officers of state were standing near him, he cried 
out, "We all thought little of that man," j\fr. Caro-ill. "his 



BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 9 

preaching, and his sentence. But O, sirs, I find it binding 
on my conscience now ; and it will bind me to all eternity." 
Shortly after this he expired. 

William Emmerson was, in his day, an eminent mathe- 
matician and scholar ; but being an infidel, the fruits of it 
were profaneness, vice, and drunkenness. In his last days 
he exhibited a painful spectacle. In his paroxysms of the 
stone, he would crav/1 on his hands and knees, uttering at 
times broken sentences of prayer, intermingled with blas- 
phemies and profane swearing. What a contrast between 
his death and that of Sir Isaac Newtox, who died of the 
same painful disease. In the severest paroxysms, which 
even forced large drops of sweat that ran down his face, 
Sir Isaac never uttered a complaint, or showed the least 
impatience. ^^ 

" These examples," as one observes, "give little encour- 
agement indeed to any person who has a proper concern 
for his own welfare, to embark in the atheistic or the deiatic 
schemes. In those cases w^here conscience is awake, the 
miserable man is filled with anguish, and overwhelmed with 
amazement and inexpressible horror ; and in those where 
conscience seems asleep, there appears nothing enviable in 
his situation, even upon his owm supposition that there is 
no after-reckoning. If to- die like an ass be a privilege, I 
give him joy of it. Let him reap the benefit of it. But 
let me die the death of the righteous, and. let my last eiid be 
like his.'' 

We now turn to contemplate the death-bed scenes of 
some of the noble army of martyrs, confessors, and private 
Christians — " My fathers, my fathers, the chariots of Israel, 

* It affords pleasure to find that Dr. Hales, in his work on 
" Faith in the Holy Trinity,^'' has vindicated Sir Isaac Newton 
from the calumnious charge of being a Socinian, or Arian, See 
vol. 2, pp. 189, 190, note, 

VOL. VIII. 30 



10 DYIXG TESTIMONY OF 

and the horsemen thereof!" — and while we look upon them 
as they go up, may the Spiiit that rested on them descend 
and rest upon iis. 

.1. We shall place at the head of them all, the Prince 
OF MARTYRS, THE LoRD Jesus Christ ; for wliilc wc do, by 
faith, look to him as onr great High-priest, who, by his 
sufferings on the cross-, made a perfect atonement and satis- 
faction to divine justice for us, we must not fail to look to 
him as a martyr to the truth, a perfect example for imita- 
tion in all ages. In his agonies in the garden, when wrest- 
ling with the powers of darkness and anticipating the more 
awful agonies of the cross, he cried out, " 0, my Father, if 
it be possible, let this cup pass from me. Nevertheless, 
not my will, but thine be done." He was not afraid, not 
imwilling to die for us ; but .0, let us remember what his 
soul and body were then enduring under the guilt of sin- 
ners. His holy soul did shudder at the prospect ; and it 
did set us moreover an example of willingness to be spared 
as to our lives, and also of willingness to suffer and die 
whenever God's will should require it. O what dignity, 
what submission, what self-possession, what meekness did 
THE Prince of martyrs uniformly display ! " He was led 
as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shear- 
ers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth." "The cup 
which my Father giveth me, shall I not drink it?" Look- 
ing in the infinitude of his benevolence upon his bloody 
persecutors, he set before us the great and divine model 
of the forgiveness of enemies: "Father, forgive them; 

FOR THEY KNOW NOT WHAT THEY DO." And then, kuowiug 

all things to be accomplished, he meekly bowed his head, 
as he cried with a loud voice, " It is finished," and gave 
up his spirit. If Socrates died as a hero, Jesus Christ 
verily died AS a God. 

Let us now turn to the noble band of martyrs and con- 
fessors, who have been imitators of God, as dear children. 



BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. H 

2. Tiie martyr Stephen was stoned to death while call- 
ing upon God, and saymg, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." 
And he kneeled down and cried with a loud voice, " Lord, 
lay not this sin to their charge ;" and when he had said this, 
he fell asleep. 

3. The apostle Paul, in prospect of his martyrdom, 
thus expressed himself: ''I am now ready to be offered, 
and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a 
good fight ; I have finished my course ; I have kept the 
faith : henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of right- 
eousness, which the righteous Judge shall give me at that 
day." 

4. Ignatius, who succeeded the apostle Peter in the 
church of Antioch, after faithfully preaching the Gospel, 
and winning many souls to Christ, sealed the truth with his 
blood. By the edict of the emperor Trajan, he was carried 
from Antioch to the city of Rome. Through all places 
whither he was conducted, he ceased not to exhort and 
animate all Christians ; he was continually breathing out 
ardent desires for the crown of martyrdom, repeating, " My 
Love was crucified for me." In the amphitheatre of Rome, 
he was thrown to the hungry lions, and devoured by them 
as he commended his departing soul to Christ. 

5. PoLYCARP, bishop of Smyrna, Avas a devoted minis- 
ter of the Lord. He suffered martyrdom in the ninety-fifth 
year of his age. When he was brought to the bar, the 
proconsul said, " Repent ; reproach your Christ, and I will 
release you." *' These fourscore-and-six years," cried Poly- 
carp, " I have been his faithful follower and minister ; never 
did he use me unkindly ; how, then, can I blaspheme my 
King and Saviour?" ''Repent; swear by the genius of 
the emperor, and offer incense," cried the Roman. " No, 
no," said the martyr; "I am a Christian, and cannot do 
IT." " Abjui:e Christianity, or you shall be thrown to the 
wild beasts." ''Let them come on," cried Polycarp ; '* we 



12 DYING TESTIMONY OF 

Christians are not accustomed to change from letter to worse, 
but from had to better.'' " You shall be burned alive," 
said the proconsul. Polycarp fixed his eyes on him and 
replied, " Your fire will be spent in an hour, but that which 
is reserved for sinners is eternal." These were his last 
words: "O God of angels, and powers, and all creatures, 
and of all the just that live in thy sight, blessed be thou 
that hast made me worthy to see this day and hour — that 
hast made me a partaker among thy holy martyrs. grant 
that this day I may be presented before thee among thy 
saints, a rich and acceptable sacrifice, according to thy will. 
Lord, I adore thee for all thy mercies ; I bless thee, I 
glorify thee, through thy onl}^- begotten Son, the eternal 
High-Priest, Christ Jesus ; through whom, in the unity of 
the Holy Ghost, to thee be glory now and for evermore ;" 
and as he cried aloud "Amen,'" the fire was kindled, and 
he died in peace, with constancy and courage. 

6. The famous Augustine, after a life of devotion to 
the service of God, longed to depart and be with Christ. 
''O Lord, shall 1 die at all— shall I die at all?" "Yes." 
" Why, then, Lord, if ever, why not now ; why not 
now ? But thy ^\\\\ be done. Come, Lord Jesus." Brooks' 
Apples of Gold. 

v. There is an affecting resemblance between the last 
w^ords of good old Simeon in the temple, who took the 
infant Saviour in his arms, and those of that holy man 
Hilary, the bishop of Poictiers, A. D. 355, the fellow- 
laborer of Athanasius in defence of the truth. Simeon 
exclaimed, '* Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in 
peace, according to thy word ; for mine eyes have seen thy 
salvation." The venerable Hilary, in his last moments, 
thus addressed his soul : '' Soul, thou hast served Christ 
these seventy years, and art thou afraid to die ? Go out, 
soul, go out." Brooks. 

8. John Huss, the Bohemian martvr, was burned alive 



BELIEVERS AM) U.NBELIEVERS. 



13 



in A. D. 1415. When he came to tlie place of execution, 
he threw liimself on his knees and sung a psalm, and look- 
ing steadfastly up to heaven, he uttered this prayer : " Into 
thy hands, O Lord, I commit my spirit. Thou hast re- 
deemed me, most good and faithful God. Lord Jesus 
Christ, assist me, that with a firm and present mind, by thy 
most powerful grace, I may undergo this most cruel death, 
to which I am condemned for preaching thy most holy Gos- 
pel. Amen." When the chain was placed on his neck, 
he exclaimed with a smile, " Welcome this chain, for Christ's 
sake." As the faggots were piled up to his neck, the duke 
of Bavaria in a brutal manner called on him to abjure and 
submit. ''No, no," cried the martyr; "I take God to wit- 
ness I preached none but his own pure doctrines ; and what 
I taught I am ready to seal with my blood." The fire be- 
ing kindled, Huss sung a hymn with a loud voice, which 
was heard above all the crackling and roaring of the flames. 
Having finished the hymn, he cried with a loud voice, 
"Lord Jesus, thou Son of the hving God, have mercy on 
me ;" and as he uttered this, he sunk down in the flames 
and expired. 

9. Jerome of Prague, the associate of Huss in the work 
of reformation, followed him to the stake a few months after 
this. Arrived at the place, he knelt down and commended 
himself to God in nearly the same words as Huss did. The 
whole deportment of this faithful minister of Christ exhib- 
ited unshaken courage, and at the same time holy submis- 
sion to God's will. When the executioner was about to 
kindle the fire behindhiia, he said, '* Bring thy torch hither ; 
do thine office before my face ; had I feared death, I might 
have avoided it." As the faggots began to blaze, he com- 
menced singing a psalm in a loud voice, until at length he 
was suffocated in the flames. 

10. The character of Luther, the great reformer, is well 
known. The two chief elements of his character Avere fer- 
vor. . viii. , 30^ 



14 DYING TESTIMONY OF 

vent devotion* and invincible courage. When any fresh 
trouble arose, he Avould say, " Come, let us sing the forty- 
sixth psalm." When making his last will, he "bequeathed 
his detestation of popery to his friends and the brethren ;" 
and repeated a saying of his own, " I was tlie plague of 
popery in my life, and shall continue to be so in my death." 
A little before he expired, he said often to his friends, 
'• Pray, pray much for the propagation of the Gospel ; the 
council of Trent " — which had sat once or twice — " and the 
pope would devise strange things against it." The last 
words he was heard to utter were these: "Into thy hands 
I commend my spirit. Thou hast redeemed me, Lord 
God of truth," Thus the great reformer died a happy and 
triumphant death. 

11. Melancthox, his illustrious associate, closed his 
glorious fjareer also by a happy death. Raising himself up 
in his death-bed, he exclaimed with holy joy, " If God be 
for us, who can be against us ?" Being asked by his affec- 
tionate relatives if he wanted any thing, he replied, " I^otli- 
ing but heaven." And laying himself back, he gently fell 
asleep in Christ. 

12. Beza, the colleague and successor of Calvin, when 
on his dying bed, went over the various promises contained 
in the ninety-first psalm, and then rehearsing the leading 
events and escapes he had met with, showed how wonder- 
fully God had fulfilled all these promises to him. " Thou 
hast often delivered me from the snare of the fowler, and 
from the noisome pestilence which walked in secret ; thou 
hast been my refuge and fortress when, on the field of bat- 
tle, with my Protestant brethren, thousands were falling on 
every side. The Lord has given his angels charge over me ; 
and now, having 'satisfied me with a long life,' I have no 
more to wait for but the fulfilling of the last words of the 

* He never spent less than three hours a day in secret prayer. 
Jones^ Hist. 



BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 15 

psalm, ' I loill shoio him my salvation,'' for which in confi- 
dence I have longed." Fleming's Fulf. of the Script. 

13. Patrick Hamilton, the Scottish martyr, was re- 
lated to the first nobles of Scotland, and also to King James 
V. He was converted imder the ministry of Luther, Avhile 
finishing his education in Germany, and about to receive 
the highest honors of the Romish church in his native land. 
He returned home in the twenty-third year of his age, and 
began to proclaim the pure Gospel to bis countrymen. He 
was hurried through a mock trial by the court, and con- 
demned, February 28, 1527, to be burned alive; and the 
same day was carried to the stake. While throwing off his 
upper garments he observed, " Albeit this death be bitter 
and painful in man's judgment, yet it is the entrance to 
eternal life." While friar Campbell disturbed his devo- 
tions, and said, " Recant, heretic, and call on the Virgin," 
the martyr meekly replied, " 0, wicked man, thou knowest 
that I am no heretic : I cite thee to appear at the judgment- 
seat of Christ." As the fire blazed around him, he cried 
out, " How long, Lord, shall darkness overwhelm this 
realm? How long wilt thou suffer this tyranny of men?" 
And just before he sunk down in the fierce flames, looking 
up to heaven, he uttered these, his last words : "0 Lord 
Jesus, receive my spirit." 

14. George Wishart, a man of apostolic character, 
w^ho trained the useful spirit of John Knox, and paved the 
w^ay for him in the Scottish reformation, fell a victim to the 
truth nineteen years after Patrick Hamilton. At the stake 
he cried out, " For the true Gospel, gHven me by the grace 
of God, I suffer this day with a glad heart. Behold, and 
consider my visage ; ye shall not see me change color ; I 
fear not this fire. I know surely, and my faith is such, that 
my soul shall drink ivine new ivith my Saviour this night 1^'' 
And kneeling down, he prayed for forgiveness to his accus- 
ers and enemies. As the fire was kindled, he raised his 



1(3 DYLN'G TESTIMONY OF 

eyes to heaven and cried, " Saviour of the world, have 
mercy on me ! Father of heaven, into thy hands I commend 
my spirit. '' 

15. John Knox the Scottish reformer's dying words 
were, " Come, Lord Jesus, sweet Jesus, into thy hands I 
commend my spirit : be merciful, Lord, to thy church, 
which tliou hast redeemed ; raise up faithful pastors." 
After this, calling his friends to his bedside, he broke out 
in these rapturous expressions : *' I have been meditating 
on the troubled state of the church, the spouse of Christ ; 
I have called on God, and committed her to her head, 
Christ ; I have fought against spiritual wickedness in high 
places, and have prevailed ; I have tasted of the heavenly 
joys where presently I shall be." " jS"ow, for the last time, 
I commit soul, body, and spirit into his hands." Uttering 
a deep sigh, he said, " Xoiu it is come F' His faithful attend- 
ant desired him to give his friends a sign that he died in 
peace. On this he w^aved his hand, and uttering two deep 
sighs, he fell asleep in Jesus. See Dr. M'Crie. 

16. When Tindal, the translator of the Bible, suffered 
martyrdom, in 1536, the last prayer he uttered was, '' 
Lord, open the king of England's eyes !" He lost sight of 
his own afflictions in his anxiety for the welfare of the church 
of Christ. 

17. When the martyr Bilney suffered at the stake, in 
the reign of Henry YIH., he lifted up his arms towards 
heaven as the fire w^as applied to the faggots, and died 
exclaiming, "I believe, I believe." 

18. Lambert, a martyr under Henry VIH., while he 
was cruelly mangled by the soldiers' halberts, and con- 
sumed in a slow fire, raised his hands, now flaming with 
fire, and exclaimed with ^ distinct voice, ''None hut Christ ; 
none hut Christ.'' 

19. Lawrence Saunders suffered martyrdom under 
the "bloody Queen Mary." He kissed the stake at which 



BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 17 

he was bound, and cried aloud, " Welcome the cross of 
Christ ; welcome the oross of Christ ! Welcome life ever- 
lasting !" 

20. Bradford, the most famous preacher of ICing Ed- 
ward's day, was brought to the stake by Queen Mary. His 
last words, as he submitted to the flames, were, " Strait is 
the gate and narrow is the way that leadeth unto life ; and 
few there be that find it. And now, Lord Jesus, receive 
my spirit." 

21, 22. In a few months after him, the immortal Lati- 
mer and Ridley were burned at Oxford. Latimer died in 
a short time in the fierce fire, but the wind kept the flames 
off the vitals of Ridley : his sufferings were excruciating ; 
his lower parts being consumed before the fire reached his 
body ! Their courage and holy resignation showed mani- 
festly the presence of the blessed Comforter sustaining 
them. ^' Be of good heart, brother,'' cried Ridley; "for our 
God luill either assuage the fury of this fame, or enable us 
to abide it.'' Latimer replied, '■' Beof good comfort, brother ; 
for ive shall this dag light such a candle in England as, by 
God's grace, shall never be put out!" 

23. The famous Cranmer, when brought to the stake, 
after making a bold confession of his faith, and deploring 
the error into which he had fallen in the hour of tempta- 
tion, thrust his right hand into the flames, that being the 
hand with which he had signed his denial of his Lord, ex- 
claiming, " This hand has offended — this unworthy hand f 
and he moved it not, except once to wipe oflf the sweat of 
agony from his face, until it dropped oft^! He then cried 
aloud, " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." What a trium- 
phant death before the very eyes of Christ's enemies ! 

24. Cur^us, a learned German physician, when dying, 
said, " I am oppressed, Lord ; but it is enough that thy 
hand has done it. dissolve me, that I may be with thee. 
Now, when my breath and spirits fail, let, blessed Saviour, 



18 DYLNG TESTIMONY OF 

thy Spirit speak, and intercede in my soul for me, with un- 
utterable groans," "I shall see my Saviour m the flesh, at 
the Father's rio-ht hand. I shall follow him whither he 

o 

goeth. come, let us go forth to meet our Redeemer : 
behold, he cometh. Lord Jesus, receive me." 

25. Bergerus, an illustrious councillor of the emperor 
Maximilian, and one much admired by Melancthon, said on 
his dying bed, "Farewell, O farewell, all earthly things, 
and welcome heaven ! Let none hereafter make any men- 
tion of earthly things to me." 

26. ZuNiGER, a learned professor of medicine at Basle, 
approached his end with holy longings and pantings after 
death : "I rejoice, yea, my spirit leaps Avithin me for joy 
that now the time at last is come, when I shall see the 
glorious God face to face ; whose glory I have had some 
glances of here, in the search of natural things ; whom I 
have w^orshipped, whom I have by faith longed after, and 
after whom my soul has panted." 

27. Olympia Fulvia Morata was a young lady brought 
up at the court of Ferrara, Italy, of distinguished talents 
and great acquirements ; she could write and speak Greek 
and Latin. Having married a German physician, she re- 
moved into Germany, and was by his instructions brought 
to embrace the Protestant religion. In her last illness, her 
husband, deeply affected, was oftering her consolations out 
of the Holy Bible, and discoursing of heaven. She replied 
yviih a sweet smile, " I long to be dissolved, and to be with 
Christ. I am all joy — full of joy. And now, dear husband, 
I know you no more. I feel an inexpressible tranquillity 
and peace with God, through Jesus Christ." 

28. John Bunyan, the immortal author of the Pilgrim's 
Progress, closed his course of usefulness and honor by a 
truly Christian death. Having frequently exhorted all 
about his dying bed to faith and a godly life, he called on 
them repeatedly to spend much of their time in prayer. 



BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 19 

His last words were, " Weep not for me, but for yourselves. 
I go to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, wlio no doubt 
will receive me, though a sinner, through the mediation of 
our Lord Jesus Christ; where I hope we shall ere long 
meet, to sing the new song, and remain happy for ever, 
world without end. Amen." Inverne}^'s Memorial of 
Bun van. 

29. Addison, just before his departure, sent for a young 
nobleman for whom he had felt a deep interest, and taking 
him by the hand, said, " Behold in what peace a Christian 
can die." 

30. Lord William Russel, son of the duke of Bedford, 
and a distinguished patriot, fell a victim to the tyranny of 
Charles IL in 1683. When his last interview was over 
with the countess his wife, on the evening before he was 
executed, he observed, " The bitterness of death is already 
past." Just before he was beheaded, he said aloud, "Nei- 
ther imprisonment nor fear of death have been able to dis- 
compose me in any degree. On the contrary, I have found 
the assurances of the love and mercy of God, in and throui^h 
my blessed Redeemer, in whom alone I trust. And I do 
not question but I am going to partake of that fulness of 
joy which is in his presence ; the hopes of which do so 
wonderfully delight me, that I think this is the happiest 
time of my life, though others may look upon it as the 
saddest." 

3L George Buchanan, the ornament of Scottish liter- 
ature, and the tutor of King James VI., was an eminent 
Christian. Having gone into the country to see his friends, 
he was there taken with his last illness. King James, need- 
ing his assistance, sent a pressing message to him to be at 
court in twenty days. He sent this reply : " Before the 
days mentioned by your majesty shall be expired, I shall 
be in that place where few kings enter." At the hearino- 
of this message the king wept bitterlv. 



20 DYING TESTIMONY OF 

32. Lord Bacon was one of the greatest geniuses of 
England, and what is more than all, a sincere Christian. 
How delicious to turn away from the vaporing pomp and 
parade of philosophists and infidels to the pages of such 
men as Bacox, and hear him saying, "A little .philosophy 
inclineth men's minds to atheism ; but depths in pliilosophy 
bring men's minds about to religion." I find a prayer of 
his which begins with these words, and which we record as 
his last testimony : " Thy creatures, Lord, have been my 
books, but thy holy Scriptures much more. I have sought 
thee in the courts, fields, and gardens ; but I have found 
thee, God, in thy sanctuary, thy temples." 

33. John Welch, the son-in-law of John Knox, was 
one of the most gifted ministers of the church of Scotland ; 
a man of apostolic zeal and extraordinary devotion : he 
lived in holy communion with God. He died an exile in 
France for the word of God and the testimony of Jesus. 
Having preached to a congregation of Protestants in France, 
he was taken ill immediately as he left the pulpit. On his 
death-bed he seemed to feel himself on the very threshold 
of glory ; he was filled and overpowered with the sensible 
manifestations of God's love and glory. The last words of 
this holy man were uttered in an ecstasy of joy : " It is 
enough, Lord, it is now enough ; hold thy hand ; thy 
servant is a clay vessel, and can hold no more !" See 
Scot's Worthies. 

34. Robert Bruce, another burning and shining light 
of that church, had been educated for the law by his father, 
one of the first barons of Scotland, and had got a patent to 
be one of the lords of session. But he was called by the 
grace of God to the ministry, and abandoning all his fasci- 
nating prospects, he joyfully took up the cross and followed 
Jesus. He was ordained to the ministry m Edinburgh, 
where he withstood King James' attempts to overturn the 
religion and liberties of Scotland, until he was exiled. He 



BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 21 

died in his seventy-second year. He had taken his seat as 
usual at breakfast, and having eaten an egg as he used to 
do, and feeling still a good appetite, he called for another ; 
but suddenly reclining his head in a musing posture, he 
said, "Hold, daughter, my Master calls me T' He lost his 
siMit in a few moments ; but callino' for the Bible, he told 
them to open it at the eighth chapter of the Romans, at 
these words : " For I am persuaded that neither death nor 
life shall be able to separate me from the love of God 
which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." " Now," said the 
venerable man, ** put my finger on these words ;" and being 
told that it was, he said, " Now, God be with you, my dear 
children ; I have breakfasted with you, and I shall sup with 
my Lord Jesus Christ this night." And saying this, he 
gently fell asleep. Scot's Worthies, p. llT. 

35. James Durham was chaplain to King Charles I., 
and minister of the high church of Glasgow. On his dying 
bed he was at first in much darkness of mind. He said to 
a friend, " For all that I have preached and written, there 
is but one Scripture I can think of, or dare to lay hold of ; 
tell me, brother, if I may dare lay the weight of my salva- 
tion on it : ' Whosoever cometh to me, I ivill in noiuise cast 
out.'" ''That you may depend on," said the minister in 
reply, " though you had a thousand salvations at hazard." 
Having remained some time in silence, in great bodily pain, 
but wrestling in faith and prayer, he at length came joy- 
fully from beneath the dark cloud, and cried in a rapture 
of joy, " Is not the Lord good ? Is he not infinitely good? 
See, how he smiles ! I do say it, and I do proclaim it." 
Scot's AVorthies, p. 1*79, etc. 

36. Samuel Rutherford, one of the most resplendent 
lights that ever rose in Scotland, was the professor of di- 
vinity in the university of St. Andrew's. When the parlia- 
ment of Scotland summoned him for trial because he stood 
up for hberty and religion, he was on his dying bed. *'Tell 

VOL. riTi. 31 



22 DYING TESTIMONY OF 

the parliament," said he to the messenger, "that I have 
received a summons to a higher bar ; I must needs answer 
that first ; and when the day you name shall come, I shall 
be where feAv of you shall enter." In his last moments he 
said to ministers around him, " There is none like Christ. 
O, dear brethren, pray for Christ, preach for Christ, do all 
for Christ ; feed the flock of God. And 0, beware of men- 
pleasing." Having recovered from a fainting fit, he said, 
"I feel, I feel, I believe, I joy, I rejoice, I feed on manna ; 
my eyes shall see my Redeemer, and I shall be ever with 
him. And what would you more ? I have been a sinful 
man ; but I stand at the best pass that ever a man did. 
Christ is mine, and I am his. Glory, glory to my Creator 
and Redeemer for ever. Glory shines in Immanuel's land. 
O for arms to embrace him ! O for a well-tuned harp !" 
He continued exulting in God his Saviour to the last, as 
one in the full vision of joy and glory. 

37. The noble Marquis of Argyle, whom the Scottish 
church piously numbers among her martyrs, sacrificed all 
for Christ's cause. On the morning of his execution, while 
busied in settling his worldly business, he was so overpow- 
ered by a sensible effusion of the Holy Spirit, that he broke 
out in a holy rapture, and said, " I thought to have con- 
cealed the Lord's goodness, but it w^ll not do. I am now 
ordering my affairs, and God is sealing my charter to my 
lieavenly inheritance, and is just now saying unto me. Son, 
be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee." When ad- 
vancing to the scaffold where he was beheaded, he exclaimed, 
*' I could die as a Roman, but I choose rather to die as a 
Christian." See Scot's Worthies, and Wodrow. 

38. -Mr. James Guthrie was a learned and godly min- 
ister, the companion of the noble Argyle. He was the lead- 
ing minister of the Presbyterian church in that afflictive 
period, and was singled out as the next victim by Charles 
II. He met his sufferino-s with Christian couraoe and 



BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 23 

cheerfulness. He dined with his friends on the day of his 
execution ; after dinner he called for a little cheese, which 
his physician had hitherto dissuaded him from using, as be- 
ing not good for the gravel : " Now, my friends, I may use 
it," said he with a smile, " for I am beyond the reach of 
the gravel." His sufferings were occasioned purely by his 
religion and his opposing the tyranny of the Stuart dynasty. 
On the scaffold, after having fully enumerated the causes 
of his suffering, he said, " I take God to record on my soul, 
that I would not exchange this scaffold for the palace and 
the mitre of the greatest prelate in Britain. Blessed be 
God, who has showed mercy to me, and made me a minis- 
ter of the everlasting Gospel. Jesus is my light and life, 
my righteousness, my strength and salvation, and all my 
desire. Him, him do I commend with all my soul unto 
you. Bless him, O my soul, now and for ever. N'ow, 
Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine 
eyes have seen thy salvation." 

39. Hugh McKail, who was among the first victims in 
the twenty-eight years' persecution in Scotland, was exe- 
cuted in the twenty-sixth year of his age. His great influ- 
ence and popular talents as a preacher made him an object 
of jealousy. He closed his powerful and eloquent speech 
on the scaffold, in these sublime and touching words : " Now 
I leave off to speak any more to creatures, and begin my 
intercourse with God for ever. Farewell, father and mother, 
friends and relations ; farewell the world and all its delio-hts : 
farewell food and drink; farewell sun, moon, and stars. 
Welcome, God and Father ; welcome, sweet Jesus, the 
Mediator of the New Testament ; welcome, blessed Spirit 
of all grace, and God of consolations ; welcome glory, wel- 
come eternal life, welcome death !" And having prayed a 
few moments, he lifted his eyes to heaven and cried with a 
loud voice, " Lord, into thy hands I commend my spirit ; 
for thou hast redeemed my soul, Lord God of truth." 



24 DYING TESTIMONY OF 

And while uttering this prayer he was launched into 
eternity. 

40. James Renwick was the last that was martyred in 
that persecution for "liberty, rehgion, and the covenants." 
Like McKail, he was young, being only twenty-six years 
of age when he suffered, and of distinguished talents and 
oratory. On the scaffold he was repeatedly interrupted in 
a brutal manner, by the tumultuous beating of the drums 
stationed below the scaffold, in order to prevent the im- 
mense multitude from hearing his speech, a custom peculiar 
to those days. He smiled and said, " They will not let a 
dying man be heard." His last words were, *' Lord, I 
die in the faith that thou wilt not leave thy church, but that 
thou wilt make the blood of thy witnesses the seed of thy 
church, and return again, and be glorious in our land. And 
now, Lord, I am ready." Then whispering to his friend 
on whom he leaned, he said, "Farewell, be diligent in duty; 
carry my love to my dear brethren in the furnace." Then 
turning to the multitude, and lifting his eyes to heaven, he 
cried, " Lord, into thy hands, I commend my spirit ; for 
thou hast redeemed me. Lord God of truth. Amen." 

41. Capt. John Paton. These heroic Christian exam- 
ples were not confined to the ministers in that period. 
Captain Paton, who served in the wars under Gustavus 
Adolphus, and afterwards in the army of Scotland, was a 
brave and judicious soldier. He died for his religion, and 
in the defence of Scottish liberty. His last words on the 
scaffold were, " I leave my testimony against the impious 
usurpation of Christ's prerogative and crown. I solemnly 
adhere to the whole work of reformation ; I forgive all my 
persecutors and enemies, and pray God to forgive them. 
I leave my dear wife and my six sweet children on the 
Lord, the Father of the orphans and the widow's husband. 
And now, farewell all worldly joys, farewell sweet Scrip- 
tures, and preaching, and reading, and praying, and sing- 



BELIEVERS AXD UNBELIEVERS. 05 

ing. Welcome, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I desire to 
commit my soul to thee in well-doing. Lord, receive my 
spirit." Thus fell one of the most gallant officers of the 
Scottish army. Scot's Worthies, p. 396. 

42. Claude, whose fame is in all the churches, was 
exiled from France by the ferocious bigotry of Louis XIY. 
His closing scene was truly affecting and instructive. Hav- 
ing pronounced his solemn benediction on his spouse and 
his son — an able minister of Christ — and on an as^ed do- 
mestic, all kneeling at his bedside; and having committed 
them to the God of the widow and fatherless, he uttered 
these his last words : " I am so oppressed that I can attend 
only to tivo of the great truths of religion, namely, the mercy 
of God, and the gracious aids of the Holy Ghost. I know 
in whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able 
to keep that which I have committed to him • against that 
day. Our Lord Jesus Christ is my only righteousness." 

43. The pious Hervey thus closed his life, pouring out 
his soul in prayer : " How thankful am I for death ! It is 
the passage to the Lord and Giver of eternal life. wel- 
come, welcome death ! Thou mayest well be reckoned 
among the treasures of the Christian ; to live is Christ, to 
die is gain. Lord, now lettest thou thy serv^ant depart in 
peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." 

44. Dr. Leechman, the venerable principal of the uni- 
versity of Glasgow, when dying, thus addressed a youno- 
nobleman : " You see my tranquilhty and composure : it is 
joy, it is triumph ; it is complete exultation. And whence 
does it spring? From the blessed Gospel contained in the 
Holy Bible. It is that, it is that which makes us certain 
that this mortal shall put on immortality." 

45. The venerable Ralph Erskine, a faithful and de- 
voted minister of the church of Scotland, was for a few 
hours preceding his dissolution in great darkness and men- 
tal distress. But, shortly before he died, he raised his 

VOL. viii. 81=^ 



26 DYING TESTIMONY OF 

hands, and clapping them, he exclaimed, "Victory, vic- 
tory !" and soon after expired. 

46. The pious Bishop Bedell, who has been styled 
" the scourge of corruption, and the great luminary of the 
Irish church," died as a man of God dies. Having blessed 
his family, and addressed godly admonitions and instruc- 
tions to his sons, he said, " I have waited for thy salvation, 
O Lord." "I have fought the good fight, I have finished 
my course." " Grievous wolves have crept in upon us ; 
but the good Shepherd will take care of his sheep, and 
they shall dwell safely. I have kept the faith ; for Avhich 
cause I have suffered ; but I am not ashamed : I know 
whom I have believed ; he will keep that which I have 
committed to him against that day." Soon after he fell 
asleep in Christ. 

47. The immortal John Locke applied himself closely 
to the study of the Holy Scriptures for the last fourteen 
years of his life. To a young gentleman he said, " If you 
would attain the true knowledge of the Christian rehgion, 
study the Bible, especially the New Testament. The Bible 
has God for its author, salvation for its end, and truth, 
without any mixture of error, for its matter." On his 
death-bed he exhorted all about him to study the word of 
God. '* Blessed be God," said he, "for what the law has 
shown to man ; blessed be his name for justifying him 
through faith in Christ; and thanks be to thy name, O 
God, for havinor called me to the knowledsre of the divine 
Saviour." 

48. Baxter closed his course full of the joys of the 
Holy Ghost. To some ministers who Avere comforting him, 
he said, " I have pains ; there is no arguing against sense ; 
but I have peace, I have peace." "You are now drawing 
near your long-desired home," said one. "I believe, I 
believe," was his reply. When the question was put to 
him, "How are you?" he promptly answered, ''Almost 



BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 27 

well.''^ To a friend who entered the chamber, he said, " I 
thank you, I thank you for coming." Then fixing his eye 
on him, he added, ** The Lord teach you how to die." These 
were his last words. 

49. John Janeway, a young minister of England, died 
a triumphant death. Not a word dropped from him which 
did not breathe of Christ and heaven. " 0, my friends, 
stand and wonder : was there ever greater kindness ; were 
there ever more sensible manifestations of grace ? why 
me. Lord, why me ? If this be dying, dying is sweet. Let 
no Christian be afraid of dying: O, death is sweet to me; 
this bed is soft : Christ's arms, his smiles, his visits, sure 
they would turn hell into heaven. What are all human 
pleasures compared to one glimpse of his glory, which 
shines so strongly on my soul ? I shall soon be in eternity ; 
I shall soon see Christ himself, who died for me, who loved 
me, and washed me in his blood. I shall soon mingle in 
the hallelujahs of glory. Methinks I hear the melody of 
heaven, and by faith I see the angels waiting to carry me 
to the bosom of Jesus. And I shall be for ever with the 
Lord. And who can choose but rejoice in all this ?" 

50. Matthew Henry. This famous and excellent divine 
said to a friend a short time before his sudden death, " You 
have been used to take notice of the sayings of dying men ; 
this is mine : that a life spent in the service of God, and 
communion with him, is the most comfortable and pleasant 
life that any one can live in this world." 

51. President Edwards died with as much calmness 
and composure as if going to sleep. He was in the full 
possession of reason to the last, and looked into eternity as 
into his Father's house in the heavens. " Never did any 
one more fully evidence the sincerity of his profession by 
one continued, universal, calm, cheerful, and patient resig- 
nation to the divine will, than he," said his physician. " Not 
one murmur, not one whisper of his was heard indicating 



28 DYING TESTIMONY OF 

discontent. When some were deploring his departure as a 
frown on the college, and as a heavy stroke on the church, 
not being sensible that he heard them, he turned his dying 
eyes on them, and said, ' Trust in God, and you need not 
fear.' " These were the last words that this great and 
pious divine spoke on earth. 

52. The apostolical Whitefield uttered this noble sen- 
timent when a Christian friend asked him what Jiis dying 
testimony would be : " My dying testimony is this : I have 
PREACHED Christ a living testimony ;" a sentiment per- 
fectly in keeping with his zeal, his piety, his fervor, his 
incessant labors in the ministry, and his wonderful success 
in winning souls to Christ. 

53. Dr. CoNDiCT, the president of Queen's, now Rut- 
gers' college, New Jersey, was known to be much afraid 
of death. But he died triumphantly. Feeling his end ap- 
proaching, he raised himself up from his pillow, and stretch- 
ing out his quivering hands, he said, " I have fought a good 
fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith ; 
henceforth is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which 
the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me." He then 
added, "Let us pray;" and having uttered a brief and 
solemn prayer, he gently leaned back on his pillow, and 
closing his eyes with his own hands, he soon after fell 
asleep in Jesus. 

54. Dr. DwiGHT, the president of Yale college, closed 
a most useful and Christian life by a peaceful and happy 
death. He requested his brother to read to him the 17th 
chapter of John. While listening to the latter verses of 
that chapter, he exclaimed, " O what triumphant truths !" 
Some one recited to him a part of the 23d psalm, and 
asked him, " Can you now say, though I walk through the 
valley of the shadoiv of death, I iv ill fear no evil, for thou 
art ivith me?'' He replied, " I hope so." He was occupied 
a great part of his time in speaking ; from what could be 



BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 29 

gathered, it appeared that he was constantly engaged in 
praj'er and adoration. He expired in peace, without a 
struggle or a groan. 

55. The Rev. Thomas Scott, the commentator, died in 
1821. As a faithful minister, a judicious writer, and a holy 
man, he had few equals. His dying bed may be said to 
have been sublimely Christian. He exhibited an awful 
sense of divine things, of the evil of sin, of the purity and 
holiness of God. And notwithstanding his progress heav- 
enward, what self-abasement he ever manifested ! " O 
Lord, abhor me not," said he in fervent prayer, "though I 
be abJiorrible, and abhor myself : say not, ' Thou filthy soul, 
continue to be filthy still ;' but rather say, */ will, be thou 
clean."' He longed much to be gone: "I am weary of 
my journey, and wish to be at home, if it be God's will." 
*' Ah, I had thought that I should close the sacred services 
of this day," the Sabbath, "in heaven." A great part of 
his time he prayed and thought aloud. On one occasion 
he said, " Posthumous reputation : the veriest bubble with 
which the devil ever deluded a wretched mortal ! But 
posthumous tcsef Illness — ay, in that there is indeed some- 
thing ; that was what Moses, the prophets, and the apostles 
desired ; and most of all, the Lord Jesus Christ." Among 
the last words he uttered were these : " Lord, support me ; 
Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." To his weeping wife and 
children he said, with tenderness, " Can any rational being 
grieve at my departure? Well, nature will have its first 
burst of sorrow, but you will soon learn to view it in its 
true light." " Christ is my all. He is my only hope." 
" to realize the fulness of joy ; to have done with 
temptation !" " This is heaven begun ; I have done with 
darkness for ever. Satan is vanquished. Nothing remains 
but salvation with eternal glory, eternal glory !" 

56. Jeremiah Evarts, so well knoAvn and beloved by 
every friend of missionaries, died a triumphant death. 



30 DYING TESTIMONY OF 

When nearly exhausted, he expressed with great tender- 
ness his affection for his Saviour ; and soon after broke out 
into rapturous expressions : " Praise him, praise him, praise 
him in a way which you know not of." Some one said to 
him, " You will soon see Jesus as he is, and know how to 
praise him." He replied, " O wonderful, wonderful, won- 
derful glory ! We cannot comprehend — wonderful glory ! 
I will praise him, I Avill praise him ! Wonderful — glory — 
Jesus reigneth !" 

57. Mr. Halyburtox was one of the most learned di- 
vines of Scotland, and professor of divinity in the university 
of St. Andrews. The ablest of his writings is his " JVatu- 
ral Religion insufficient, and Revealed necessary to Mans 
ha'ppiness.'' He wrote against Lord Herbert, the father of 
the English deists ; and was the first who carried the war 
into the enemy's camp, showing the absurdity and futility 
of the deist's system. The chief of his practical works is 
his " Great Concern.'' He w^as a truly devoted Christian, 
and he breathed out his soul to God in a triumphant death. 
The following were his last words : "■ I dare look death in 
the face, in its most ghastly shape, and hope soon to have 
the victory over it. Glory, glory to him. O what of God 
do I see ! I have never seen any thing like 'it. The begin- 
ning and the end of religion are wonderfully sweet. I long 
for his salvation ; I bless his name, I have found him. I 
am taken up in blessing him ; I am dying, rejoicing in the 
Lord. Oh, I could not have believed that I should bear, 
and bear cheerfully, as I have done, this rod, which hath 
lain on me long. This is a miracle. Pain without pain. 
You see a man dying ; a monument of the glorious power 
of astonishing grace." Some time after he said, "When I 
shall be so weak as no longer to be able to speak, I will, if 
I can, give you a sign of triumph when I am near to glory." 
He did so; for when one said, "I hope you are encourag- 
ing yourself in the Lord," being now unable to speak, he 



BELIEVERS AND UNBELIEVERS. 31 

lifted up his ha7ids and clapped them, and in a few moments 
expired. 

58. Mr. Augustus M. Toplady closed a long and emi- 
nently holy life by a very triumphant death. He said, " 
how this soul of mine longs to be gone : like an imprisoned 
bird, it longs to take its flight. that I had the wings of 
a dove, I should flee away to the realms of bliss, and be at 
rest for ever. I long to be absent from the body and pres- 
ent with the Lord." At another time he said, " what a 
day of sunshine has this been to me. I have no words to 
express it ; it is unutterable. 0, my friends, how good our 
God is. Almost without interruption his presence has been 
with me." Being near his end, having awakened out of 
sleep, he said, " what delights : who can fathom the joys 
of the third heavens !" And just before he expired, he 
said, " The sky is clear ; there is no cloud : come> Lord 
Jesus, come quickly." 

59. Dr. Edward Payson was an eminent Christian, a 
devoted and faithful minister of the Lord. He had a fine 
mind, a charming imagination, and an ardent love to his 
Master. He died a triumphant death. "A young man," 
said he, " when about to leave the world, exclaimed, ' The 
battle's fought, the battle's fought, but the victory is lost 
for ever !' But I can say, the battle's fought, the battle's 
fought, and the victory is ivon I The victory is ivon for 
ever ! I am going to bathe in an ocean of purity, and be- 
nevolence, and happiness, to all eternity." He was heard 
to express himself in the following soliloquy: "I am a 
Christian — what then ? Why, I am a redeemed sinner ; a 
pardoned rebel. I am a Christian — what then ? Why, I 
am a temple of God ; I ought surely to be pure and holy. 
I am a Christian — what then ? I am a child of God, and 
ought to be filled with filial love, joy, and gratitude. I am 
a Christian — what then ? Why, I am a disciple of Christ, 
and must imitate him who was meek and lowlv of heart. 



32 DYING TESTIMONY, ETC. 

I am a Christian — what then ? Why, I am an heir of God, 
and hastening on to the abodes of bliss in the skies." Again, 
"Hitherto I have viewed God as a fixed star; bright indeed, 
but often intercepted by clouds. But now he is coming 
nearer and nearer ; and he spreads into a sun so vast and 
so glorious, that the sight is too dazzling for flesh and blood 
to sustain." On one occasion, Avhen laboring under very 
acute pains, he exclaimed, " These are God's arrows, but 
they are sharpened with love." Once he exclaimed, " Vic- 
tory, victory! Peace, peace!" Looking on his wife and 
children, he said, " I am going, but God will surely be with 
you." The last words he was heard to whisper were these : 
"Faith and patience, hold out." 

It is worthy of being noticed, that he gave instructions 
that after he was dead and laid out, the following label 
should be laid on his breast, that every one might read it 
as he took a last look of their pastor's remains : " Remem- 
ber THE WORDS WHICH I SPAKE UNTO YOU WHILE I WAS YET 
PRESENT WITH YOU." 

And now who that is in his right mind, will not say, 
"Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end 
he like his ?" 



IVo. 387. 



THE 



GENERAL'S WIDOW. 



A TRUE NARRATIVE. 



BY V7". 0. BEOWNLEE, D. D. 



Brother, we ai-e only lialf awate : we are none of us naore than 
half awake — Legh Richmond. 




In 1817, I was called, in the providence of God, to take 

the pastoral care of the church of . It is situated in a 

rich and beautiful valley, with a chain of mountains sweep- 
ing round it in a semicircle ; and, for many miles around, all 
the families of a dense population, with the exception of one 
or two, belonged to that congregation. Among them was 

the family of General , one of the first agriculturists of 

the country 

VOL. VIII. 32 



2 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 

When I entered on my pastoral duties the general had 
deceased, being comparatively a young man when he died. 
His family was still in mourning for the bereavement ; and 
on the Sabbath, his widow and nine beautiful children, in 
their deep weeds, attracted the respectful notice and sym- 
pathy of all who entered the church. The general and his 
lady had both descended from a race of intelligent and pious 
Christians. The colonel, his father, had been no less noted 
for the gallant spirit and patriotism of his youth, than for 
enlightened and fervent piety in his advanced years. And 
the general's lady was among the best educated and most 
accomplished women of her native county. 

But the general had been one of the unhappy victims 
of error who had been seduced from the ways of the God 
of his fathers, about the time when infidelity, in its most 
rude and degraded form, with the noted Thomas Pai7ie at 
its head, made a struggle to gain an ascendency in many 
parts of our country. " The Age of Reason'' had with him 
displaced the Holy Bible, and he drank in those polluted 
streams until, being perfectly intoxicated with error, he cast 
off fear and restrained prayer, and openly denied the God 
of his fathers. 

It was on a delightful morning in May, 181-, — I remem- 
ber it as distinctly as if it had been yesterday — one of the 
elders of the church came to desire me, as soon as practi- 
cable, to visit the general's widow. 

"Ah, sir," said he, as tears filled his eyes, "the poor 
woman has not long to live, and she knows it not. And 0, 
sir, she is ill prepared to die." 

In a short time we were on our way, he having kindly 
volunteered to accompany me to her mansion. 

Our ride lay through the beautiful farms of the late 

General L d S g; laid out in square fields of great 

extent, highly cultivated ; with orchards abounding in eveiy 
variety of fruit-trees, particularly of grafted English cher- 
ries, of no less than twelve varieties ; and luxuriant fields 
of grain, affording happy promise to the labors of the hus- 
bandman. We soon crossed the bridge over the dark 



THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 3 

P , and ascended the romantic hill which forms its 

lofty bank. From its summit, which we soon reached, 
there is a lovely prospect of ten or twenty miles around. 
All nature was in the glory of spring : the very air was 
perfumed with the delicious blossoms on every hand. 

"What a happy world this would be," said the elder, 
** if our souls, being pmified from sin, did so rejoice in the 
presence of God as he makes all things smile around us !" 

" Yes, my friend ; but it is the sanctified and well-regu- 
lated mind alone, prepared for the Master's service, which 
has the capacity of really enjoying his presence in the beau- 
ties of nature. That congenial soul sees him in every leaf, 
and bud, and beautiful flower ; hears and adores him in the 
whisperings of the breeze, the murmuring of the brook, the 
music of the songsters, as well as in the rushing of the 
cataract, and the roaring of the mountain storm. He sees 
him and adores him in every thing. The guilty mind is at 
enmity with God, and by such a one, the presence of God, 
in the glorious works of his hands, is neither seen nor 
appreciated." 

"Ah, sir," said he, "that was what the good old colonel 
would often say to his son, whose widow's mansion we are 
now approaching. ' I tell thee, boy,' the old Christian 
would say, 'infidelity paralyzes the noble powers of man, 
and renders him blind, and deaf, and dead to the joys of 
God's presence in the kingdom of nature as well as of grace. 
Age of reason, Ha ! The age of folly, of mental degrada- 
tion, and of little men. Why, I tell thee, it requires a clear 
head and a pure heart to be able to take up the argument 
of TRUTH. The profane scoffer of the Paine school cannot 
comprehend the delicacy and force of divine reasoning on 
the goodness of God in nature, and his pure and overpow- 
ering love in grace.' Another time, when his son was 
venturing his doubts touching the Gospel, the colonel 
exclaimed, ' Doubts, my poor boy ! Seest thou that bright 
sun pouring down his glorious beams ? Seest thou those 
brilliant fields and meadows glowing in their living and 
breathing beauty under the present Deity ? All these — 



4 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 

aye, and my own senses, can I sooner doubt and mistrust, 
than doubt the love of my God and Redeemer in the king- 
dom of his providence and grace.' " 

We were now entering the long avenue which led up to 
the house, lined on each side with rows of cherry-trees, 
now in all the magnificent beauty of their white and purple 
blossoms. 

" I am not quite sure," said I, *' whether our A'isit here 
will be welcome." 

"I am not sure that it will," said the elder; ''but what 
then ? We must never think of measuring duty by such 
considerations as those which move the men of the world." 

" You are right," said I. " But tell me, you often vis- 
ited the late general in company with my venerable prede- 
cessor Dr. F , how were you received in your visits to 

his death-bed ?" 

"Always courteously," said he; ** but never recognized, 
I rather think, as Christians. And often has the pastor 
observed to me, that he never met with a more deeply 
confirmed infidel. Sir, I witnessed the last interview : it 
took place on a Saturday. The minister spent several 
hours at the death-bed of the general ; he saw that the 
last sands of life were fast falling — he died on Monday fol- 
lowing—and his anxious soul was in an agony to win him 
over, if such was the will of God. 

" But no argument, no appeal, no prayer, no tears moved 
him from his infidel principles, or seemed to shake his con- 
fidence. Let no man tell me this was the fruit of the infi- 
del's faith, which, like the reviving and exhilarating hopes 
and faith of the Christian, in his creed and in his Redeemer, 
was now sustaining the hope and confidence of his soul. 
Ah, sir, I knew the contrary. I was his near neighbor ; 
I saw him oftener than the pastor, and in his last hours, 
oftener than his infidel associates. I saw him in the mid- 
night hours, and in his unguarded moments ; I heard him 
utter thoughts that came fresh from an unveiled and burn- 
ing spirit. I saw him — I knew him to be a miserable man ; 
but not more so than any other infidel. Au infidel die 



THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 5 

happy ! A happy philosophic death ! Die as a philosopher 
dies ! Can any rational being believe what the infidel him- 
self does not, and cannot himself believe? An immortal 
spirit leave its heaven here, and go away into an unknown, 
dark, dismal oblivion ! Even on its own principles it cannot 
die happy, without its firm belief in an incredible miracle ; 
namely, that a great and polished philosophic soul can be 
perfectly willing, that is, happy to give up all the heaven 
it has, for a dark, unknown, hated, and horrid oblivion. 
Another proof that infidels are not only the most credulous, 
but absolutely the most duped of all the children of men. 
For the general, he would yield to no argument ; he was 
too proud in spirit : he never had hitherto flinched. But, 
ah, on that Saturday I saw him yield; and I witnessed the 
confession which, to this day, is well known over our valley. 
But it was the mere yielding of parental feeling. 

" ' Well, general,' said the minister, as we rose to go, 
* time speeds its course ; I must take my leave of you,* He 
took him by the hand. ' Farewell ; I shall never see you 
more, until you and I stand at the judgment-seat of eternal 
Justice: farewell.' He paused; the general still kept a 
hold of his hand. ' Ere I go, I have one question to ask 
you,' said the pastor : he paused again, and turning, cast 
his eyes around the circle of the general's sons, his daugh- 
ters, and his weeping wife : the general's eyes wandered 
after those of the pastor, over the dear and interesting 
group. 'Now, hear me,' said the minister; 'my question 
is this : Is it your will, now, in your last moments, that 
these dear and beloved beings should follow the minister, 
or yourself f 

" The general looked first at the pastor with an earnest 
eye, as if to penetrate into his soul : he saw that he was in 
earnest, for tlie tears rolled in silence over his cheeks : he rap- 
idly glanced at the circle of his dear children and spouse : he 
heaved one deep sigh as he clasped his hands on his breast ; 
then resuming his hold of the pastor's extended hand, he 
said with a solemnity which I never heard from the genera] 
before, ' It is my will that they follow the minister.' 
VOL. VIII. 32* 



C THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 

" ' Then let me offer up my last prayer at your death- 
bed,' said the minister, as he threw himself on his knees. 
And 0, sir, he did pour out his soul in such fervent wrest- 
lings as I never witnessed before : all of us wept, except 
the general. He appeared confounded and bewildered ; 
he seemed conscious that his creed was untenable ; he did 
seem like one looking out for some fearful and undefinable 
disaster ; his reason seemed to reel ; but his pride, shall I 
call it, or obstinacy, prevented him from humbling himself 
at the throne of grace. He seemed like one given up of 
God and of man. And he died as he had hved, I fear. 
And this desperate outbraving of all entreaties and remon- 
strances of conscience, this reckless clinging to his ship- 
wrecked hope, and defiance of the justice of God his Judge, 
has tended to harden his family in unbelief, and to efface 
from their memory all the admonitions, and prayers, and 
tears of the minister. But here we are at the door," 
added my friend, " and may God give you wisdom, my 
dear pastor, to win over to Christ the souls of this desolate 
family." "Amen," said I, in the extreme anxiety of my 
spirit, as we advanced to the chamber of the general's 
widow. 

We found her silting up ; but her once beautiful form 
was wasting away under the disease that was consuming 
her vitals. She received us with the utmost pohteness and 
kindness. But we soon discovered that it would be impos- 
sible to eno^ao-e her in devout, or even serious conversation. 
She contrived to resist every attempt to direct her atten- 
tion in good earnest, to the necessary preparation to meet 
her Judge. And she abruptly put an end to all our sug- 
gestions by a remark of this kind : that "her dear husband 
died in the belief which she held ; such a good man could 
not be miserable. And as for herself, she never could wish 
to go to a better place than where he was!" 

We parted from her with a heavy heart. I had utterly 
failed of delivering my message ; and at this, and also the 
second visit, not even the permission was conceded to us of 
joining in prayer with her. 



THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 7 

As I approached the house on the day of my third visit, 
I felt my mind exceedingly agitated. Here, thought I, is 
an interesting immortal being now very near the verge of 
eternity, and, alas, utterly unprepared ; and not only so, but 
this noble spirit of hers is filled with bitter enmity against 
the cross of Christ. 

I found her alone : she was now confined to her bed ; 
and the hectic spot on her pale cheek indicated that her 
days were nearly numbered. She gave me a cordial wel- 
come, and thanked me for this token of respect in coming 
again so soon. I blessed the Lord for this favorable oppor- 
tunity, and in secret implored of him wisdom and skill to 
do my duty at this critical moment. A long and painful 
silence followed. At length she broke it, by asking, " Is 
not God goodness itself, goodness in his very nature? Am 
I wrong in believing also, that he has implanted in every 
soul the unquenchable hope of happiness ? And who will 
say that infinite goodness will blast the hope which he 
himself has nursed and ripened in us?" 

This opened a fruitful theme of discussion for at least 
an hour. The following dilemma was respectfully placed 
before her : " Madam, how do you know that God is good- 
ness itself? If from the demonstrations of nature and prov- 
idence, then from the same evidence do we learn infallibly, 
that he is infinitely just and awfully severe. You have 
only to look abroad over the w^orld's history, and contem- 
plate the tremendous exhibitions of his justice in the endless 
train of the terrible scourges which have swept the men of 
many generations off the earth. Do these prove simply his 
unmingled goodness ? Again, if you seek your proof from 
the holy Scriptures, there we are taught that ' He who is 
good and merciful, will by no means clear the guilty.' " And 
the argument against universal happiness was closed by 
submitting to her vigorous mind these ttvo ideas. 

" If you choose to decide the matter by the full and 
most complete evidence draw^n from Scripture, then is it 
obvious that the inspired writer, who uses the same word 
in Matt. 25 : 46, to express the eternity of the wicked man's 



8 THE GENERAL' S WIDOW. 

punishment, and that of the righteous man's glory in heaven, 
without giving us any intimation of his using it in an infi- 
nitely different sense in the same sentence, has decided the 
point that the second death of the one party is as endur- 
ing and endless as is the life of the other party. The 
objection that 'everlasting' is applied to the hills and ma- 
terial things, has no force here. To whatever object it is 
applied, it always means the longest possible existence of that 
object. Here it is applied to the immortal soul, immaterial 
and ever-enduring : to that this punishment will cling as 
long as the soul exists ; that is, for ever and ever. And 
hence, in perfect accordance with this, the punishment of 
the wicked is pronounced by God to be 'everlasting,' after 
temporal duration has ceased, and after eternity has com- 
menced. 2 Thess. 1 : 8, 9, etc. 

" And, madam, if you choose to settle the point by rea- 
son, aided by revelation, then you must admit that God will 
not confer happiness on sinners as long as their sin and im- 
penitence continue. But inasmuch as they die impenitent, 
and hence descend into eternity full of sin, and. still sinning ; 
and inasmuch as neither God, nor themselves, nor any other 
being will convert them after death, they will continue to 
hate God and sin against him just as they did before death ; 
and as sin goes on in its self- perpetuating virulence, they 
will rebel against the most Holy One for ever and ever. 
Hence, they keep themselves out of heaven, that is, they 
keep themselves in hell, for ever and ever. 

" Besides, Universalists and Infidels are usually believers 
in freewill, in its unlimited acceptation. I pray you, then, 
madam, how can you, or any of them, pretend to justify 
God, if he were to compel these unconverted men, against 
their determination to the contrary, into a holy heaven, a 
place which they have all their lifetime abhorred, and which 
they will as heartily abhor as ever, to all eternity ?" 

This address I uttered in the mildest terms I could. 
Her danger excited in me feelings of the intensest earnest- 
ness. The effect of these plain and simple truths was visi- 
ble. There was a solemnity in her words, and in her whole 



THE GENERAL'S VViDO.V. 9 

deportment, which I had not witnessed hitherto. my 
God, I thank thee that I am not without some hope that 
the Spirit of the Lord is visiting her in mercy. Breathe on 
her, O blessed Spirit ! 

The following propositions I put into her hand as I left 
her. 

1. There is no power or virtue in sinful man, which 
can efficiently lead him to peace with God and true hap- 
piness. 

2. To deny a communication from heaven, on the sup- 
position that God has the intention of showing mercy and 
favor to us, is actually an impeachment of the divine good- 
ness. The infidel system is cruel : on the face of its very 
first principle, it brings a solemn impeachment against the 
divine goodness and pity. 

3. It is our duty faithfully to determine by a close ex- 
amination, whether it be by argument, or by delusion and 
depravity, that we are induced to continue in hostility to 
God our Maker, and to hate the Holy Bible. 

4. No man nor power on earth can prove what the infi- 
del affirms ; namely, that the Bible is not a genuine revela- 
tion from heaven. 

5. No man can call Jesus Lord, or give the Bible the 
reception of true faith, but by the Holy Ghost. 

This visit was closed Avithout prayer, it having been 
declined by her. She noticed the pain which her refusal 
caused, and retained my hand for several seconds ; and I 
hurried away to conceal my emotions. Her mind, I knew, 
was not prepared to have these services urged, far less 
forced upon her. gracious Master, grant me spiritual 
skill, wisdom, and patience to do thy work aright ; deliver 
me from a furious zeal without knowledge ; free me equally 
from the spirit of indolence, coldness, and negligence in 
duty. 

As soon as practicable, I hastened to renew my visit. 
I found her in company with her daughters and two grown 
up sons. She was fast fading away, like the sere leaves of 
autumn, or the snow before the April sun. 



10 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 

" Sir," said she, as by her request I took my seat close 
to her, " I own myself overcome by those dilemmas which 
you placed before my mind. ' The sim^jle truth of God is 
overwhelming.' That expression of yours, dropped occa- 
sionally the other day, I cannot get rid of. Yes, I must 
even admit — my conscience will not let me equivocate — if 
the Bihle he true, then Vnivej'salism, in which I have taken 
refuge is false — age, utterig false / This is now my delib- 
erate opinion : yes, my children, by the civil law, the delib- 
erate murderer must die ; that is to say, be cut off for ever 
from this life, for ever from his family, for ever from all 
earthly happiness. I should insult my reason, and never 
regain self-respect, did I conclude otherwise. If the Bihle 
he true, then am I sure Universalism is false as Satan. 
But then, the Bible — I cannot, I will not, I never can 
believe it to be a revelation from heaven. Oh, I can- 
not " 

I made no reply until she was restored perfectly to 
self-possession. Her fine mind, which knew no disguise, 
here betraj^ed, without concealment, one of the usual and 
very natural feelings of one who has unhappily been se- 
duced by the impious sophistry of the infidel. In its des- 
perate efforts, the unsettled mind hurries from one false 
refuge into another, plunging deeper and deeper at each 
retreat. She had been strong in her confidence in Univer- 
salism : the lingering remains of her respect for the Bible 
were owing to her being taught this sentiment : the delu- 
sion had rapidly vanished under the light of reason, con- 
science, and the plain exhibiting of divine truth : and the 
deep current of hatred, quickened by the disappointment, 
was directed, in all its force, against the Holy Bible. 

I endeavored to draw her attention to the necessity of 
a divine revelation, and exhibited in a plain manner the 
usual arguments on this point, taken chiefly from Home's 
Introduction. And I concluded, by illustrating the second 
proposition, which I had submitted to her consideration at 
a former meeting. 

*' Do you beheve that God is good?" "Undoubtedly 



THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. H 

he is," she replied. "Do you believe that God intends to 
be merciful and gracious to us ?" "I do believe it." " Then, 
my dear madam, if you admit all this, and yet obstinately 
deny that God has spoken to us one kind word, or one 
cheering promise, you take away the very basis of this 
belief; you have thence no ground of faith, nor of the 
humblest hope in mercy, or pity, or love, from him. In 
fact, you impeach his goodness and mercy. And that ma- 
lignant being who goes about to compass the ruin of 
immortal souls, could alone counsel and devise such a 
horrid scheme." 

She turned her head round on the pillow, and placing 
her hand on her brow, remained some time in deep medita- 
tion. *'Ah, dear madam, who can have persuaded you 
that our heavenly Father, who intends to be so merciful 
and gracious to us, does, nevertheless, never utter one 
word of peace — never send one ray of light — never make 
one communication from heaven to us? Believe it who 
will, I cannot. None but the heai-tless infidel can cherish 
an idea so melancholy, and so opposed to divine goodness." 

" I cannot, I do not believe the Bible ; it is no revela- 
tion from heaven," cried she, waving her hand and turning 
her face away from me. A long and painful silence en- 
sued. I implored in secret that the Master would give me 
prudence, and the tongue of the wise who win souls to 
Christ. Then, as if nothing had fallen from her lips, I 
begged her permission to review the fourth proposition 
formerly submitted to her. "With your leave, my dear 
madam, I shall presently examine the evidence of the Holy 
Bible, external and internal ; but there is a previous ques- 
tion with you. Are you aware that the infidel school can 
never prove what they assert, namely, that the Bible is not 
a revelation from heaven. ^'^ 

This excited her deep attention. I went on. " Have 
you, or any of all your school, from Celsus down to the 
humblest writer of the canaille, searched this sacred vol- 
ume itself critically, historically, in the originals, or in its 
various translations ? No one who has not done this has 



12 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 

any claim to be heard, or even to be reckoned a sensible 
believer in the infidel creed. Have your champions searched 
all the evidence of the Jews, and their writings ? Have 
they searched all the evidence attainable from every Chris- 
tian in the world ? Have you conversed with angels, and 
collected the evidence that those pure intelligences can 
communicate ? Have you sought out all the evidence 
attainable from departed spirits now in heaven, or from the 
doomed spirits now in hell ? No. Then your researches 
for evidence, even after all the labors of thousands of years, 
can scarcely be said to have yet begun. Now, until this 
infinity of sources be perfectly examined, no one of you 
can have faith in the infidel creed. You may imagine a 
faith and a peace of mind. You may stifle conscience. But 
if you only act as reasonable beings, you must ever be in 
a state of agonizing doubt. Hence, there can be no peace, 
no joy. You must, in fact, cease to think or act as rational 
beings, and you must drown your noble powers in the per- 
dition of this world's profligacy before you can cease to 
feel the agonies of remorse. And even all these are 
wretched opiates, out of the sleep of which you will one 
day awake to acuter and more horrible agonies." 

Both of her sons, who had imbibed infidel opinions, 
had come close up to us, and were listening with deep 
attention. At the close of the argument, they cast an 
anxious and searching look on each other, and then on their 
mother ; while her eyes were scrutinizing their looks, as if 
imploring their aid against these dilemmas. They were 
agitated, but remained silent. 

** If you discover any defect in this argument, young 
gentlemen, you will confer a favor on me to name it ; but if 
there be truth in it, 0, in the fear of your Maker, I beseech 
you, resist it not. We can have no interest, either of 
us, in being deceived in a matter of this solemn impor- 
tance." 

For the first time, I saw a tear quivering in the mother's 
eye, and steahng down her faded cheek. *' O, my God," 
said I, in the secret agony of my heart, " break, break in 



THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 13 

pieces this hard and flinty heart. O, is not thy word as a 
fire and a hammer?" I rose to take my leave, not wishing 
to check this first flowing- of emotions from the flinty rock : 
she retained my hand for some moments: there was a 
mental struggle. "Oh, you will not go away thus — you 
will surely pray with us," said she, with a sweet and im- 
ploring look. " Blessed be the Lord, who has heard us, and 
put this at last into your heart," said I, with emotions which 
I could not overcome- I felt as if a ray of hope had burst 
through the dark gloom, and beamed on this beloved being, 
for whom our souls had been in travail. We kneeled down 
by her bed ; and Oh, I thought I felt the reviving presence 
of the Holy Spirit with us in prayer, and believed his 
power was awakening deep convictions in her for whom our 
souls were poured out. And yet, when I bethought me of 
the deceitfulness of the heart, and in a special manner, the 
fearful malignity of the spirit of deism, I seemed to hope 
against hope ; while I cried unto God, and said, " Come 
from the four winds, Spirit of the Lord, and breathe 
upon this dying mother and her family." 

At the next visit I was grieved to find her tender im- 
pressions gone, or carefully concealed ; and I thought with 
pain of that message of the Lord, " Your goodness is as 
the morning cloud ; and as the early dew it goeth away." 
O my God, slay the enmity of this sin-stricken heart by the 
sharp sword which issueth out of thy mouth, even thy 
living .and powerful word. 

At this and the following visit, by her leave, I went 
over the evidence of the authenticity and divinity of the 
Holy Bible. I conducted her active and acute mind over 
the hidorical evidence. She listened with attention and 
eagerness to the testimony of the Christian fathers, from 
Augustine back over the early centuries, and up to the 
apostolical fathers ; ^vhile I demonstrated to her that not 
onlv all these, but that heathen writers also, and ojyponents, 
such as Celsus, Porphyry, and Julian the Apostate, freely 
quoted these books called the Bible, as genuine and au- 
thentic wiitings. Every ancient an tar/on i'-'t admitted these 
VOL. VIII. 33 



14 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 

hooks of the Bible to have been loritten by the men whose 
names they bear. 

" The inspired writers possessed the gift of tongues and 
the power of working miracles : they healed the blind, the 
maimed, the lame, and raised the dead. All this was done 
publicly before the church and their enemies. And having 
thus established their divine mission from God, they pre- 
sented publicly to the church the books written by them, 
as the accredited messengers of God. Thus the miracu- 
lous powers and gifts established the fact of their apostolical 
commission from God : this was their grand object. And 
the fact of their being the authors of these books was 
established by the living and credible witnesses, even all 
Christians, in their days, who received these books publicly 
from their hands, and deposited them in their archives, and 
transmitted the autographs to their children. Now, when 
these books of the New Testament were written, there 
were hundreds of thousands of Christians alive : these with 
one voice declared that they saw the apostles work mira- 
cles : ' We knew them, and believed most truh^ that they 
were sent of God : we know these books to have been given 
by them, for we received them as a public deposit, and as 
such we transmit them to our children.' 

*' No one book, nor even a single sentence, could be added 
to these inspired books without speedy detection. This 
could not happen in the apostles' lifetime : they were alive 
to expose to the church the imposture. This could not 
happen after their decease ; for by this time copies were 
multiplied, and the holy Scriptures were in every church in 
Asia, Europe, and Africa. In fact, dear madam, it would 
be as easy and as practicable to add a new chapter or a 
new sentence to the common law of the land, or to a na- 
tional charter, or to abstract from them, as it would have 
been to palm a new book of holy writ, or even one sen- 
tence, on the watchful church of God." 

Here we were interrupted, and at her request I closed 
with prayer ; and with many tears she was commended to 
God, the great and good Shepherd of Israel, who gathers 



THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 15 

the wandering sheep from " all places whither they have 
been driven in the cloudy and dark day." 

In a few days my visit was renewed with an interest 
now daily increasing. I met her physician, who whispered 
in my ear to take com-affe : *' She has at lena^th commenced 
a dilio-ent readino- of the Bible : her attendant reads to her 

o o 

as long and as often as her weakness can sustain it. But it 
is singular," added he ; "she will hear only out of the Old 
Testament.^' 

After an affectionate salutation from her, with her per- 
mission I proceeded in the examination of the internal evi- 
dence of the Scriptures : I pressed upon her attention the 
evidence of their divinity, from the peculiar sublimity of 
their conceptions of God and his perfections, and their spot- 
less purity. "The genius and the wits of Greece and 
Rome never, in one thought or conception, attained any 
thing similar, far less equal to the sublimity of their con- 
ceptions of God ; and never, in one instance, to any thing 
resembling their spiritual purity. There is evidently some- 
thing on the pages of the Bible altogether superhuman. 
Unassisted human nature would let fall of necessity, as in 
fact we see it invariably does in all matters and in all human 
writings, the stain of its own impurity. Good men, having 
the fear of God before their eyes in all things, could not 
practise a deception on the world, and give out their own 
impostures as from God. And most manifest is it, that no 
wicked man could have conceived such pure and heavenly 
doctrines in his mind ; far less, by any combination of his 
associates, have formed a system breathing nothing but 
spotless purity in morals and religion. And then notice 
the perfect harmony of all the parts. These tracts which 
compose the volume of the Bible, were written, some of 
them, by kings and princes ; some by statesmen ; some by 
peasants and herdsmen ; men living over a period of fifteen 
hundred years, who never saw and never conversed with 
each other. Such a perfect harmony in views and in sen- 
timents, on any subject, existing among some fifty men, 
even in our times, and who had even all seen and conversed 



16 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 

with each other, would absolutely be pronounced a miracle 
by even the Deist. 

" Their purity in waging a war of extermination against 
all sin — even in the secrecy of the heart's emotions and 
desires — and their irresistible efficacy in subduing the 
hearts of the children of men, exhibit the proofs of their 
divinity. They convert the passionate man into a lamb ; 
the avaricious into benevolent Christians ; the timorous and 
cowardly into courageous soldiers of the cross ; so that, at 
the call of their Lord, they can despise fires and torments. 
They have converted the lewd into pure and chaste persons ; 
the cruel and bloodthirsty into kind-hearted and courteous 
Christians ; the unjust, foolish, and notorious offender they 
have rendered equitable, prudent, and hol}^ Nay, so great, 
says Lactantius, in one word, is the force of divine wisdom, 
that when infused into the heart, it expels, by a single effort, 
folly, the mother of sin. And these are moral miracles, 
which you and I witness weekly ; as the church has wit- 
nessed them in all ages. In the days of the apostles, hun- 
dreds of thousands, once vile and debased heathens, but 
then clothed in the i*obes of righteousness and holiness, 
stood up as the living witnesses of this irresistible power 
of the Gospel, and of its moral miracles. And from that 
period millions, in their successive generations, have borne 
their testimony, Avith all the force of a moral demonstra- 
tion, to the all-powerful influence of the blessed Gospel of 
Christ. They have done — and done before th« eyes of the 
shrewdest and most cunning oppoSers — what no human 
eloquence, no human reasoning, no human persuasions, no 
energy of philosophy, no created authority, or force, ever 
could do. They have illumined the darkest minds ; sub- 
dued and softened the hardest hearts ; overcome the most 
obstinate pagan and idolater ; and returned them to society, 
virtuous, pure, and holy men : they have soothed their men- 
tal agony in the dying hour, and led them to rest and glory 
in eternity. In a word, that has been done by them, which 
God only does by his own selected means. Hence, the 
seal of heaven's testimony is set to them, that they are 



THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 17 

God's most holy truths, used by him, and owned by him, 
before all." 

During this last address the widow was bathed in tears ; 
and often uttered, in a low and tremulous moan, " O my 
God. my distracted soul. God, pity my weakness. 
Mercy, Lord, mercy on me ; and heal my blindness, if I 
am in error." 

Kneeling down, I once more mingled my tears with hers, 
and offered our fervent supplications to the prayer-hearing 
God for his quickening and forgiving grace to this broken- 
hearted woman. I did feel as if I w^as now wrestling in hope. 
" heavenly Father, dissipate this dark cloud of sorrow : 
bring in this poor wanderer : receive her to the bosom of 
thy love. God, say unto her, in the effectual workings 
of thy free Spirit, Daughter, thou art loosed from thine in- 
firmities ; go in peace. bring her to the foot of the cross 
of Christ : there let her be found sitting, clothed, and in 
her right mind." And yet I could not resist the fearful 
forebodings which came over my mind as I rode home. O 
the fatal influence of infidelity; so congenial to corrupt 
reason ; so soothing to the depraved heart ; so subservient 
to the vicious desires and appetites ; so potent in its se- 
ductions. I dared scarcely indulge a hope. " But 0, most 
merciful Father, thy Spirit is able to subdue the most ob- 
stinate heart : I present her at the foot of thy throne : O 
descend. Holy Ghost, in thy subduing influences : renew 
her soul : O pluck the brand from the flames. To thee I 
commit her." 

In a day or two I renewed my visit ; and at her request, 
after prayer, I discussed with her the evidence of miracles 
and projjhecy. She lent her deep and serious attention to 
the subject. 

I studied to remove her difficulties on miracles, and show 
her that a miracle is just as susceptible of proof as any 
other fact or public event of history. " Christ and his 
apostles came before the public, and called on all men, in 
the name of God, to believe the Gospel and repent of their 
sins. In evidence of their divine mission, they invited all 
VOL. VIII. 33* 



18 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 

to bring out their blind, their maimed, the impotent, the 
dead ; and with a word they healed them all, instantane- 
ously, and called the dead to life in the presence of their 
foes. And in their appeals to the multitude they said. 
We have cured all your diseased, and raised your dead, 
now believe us as the accredited messengers of God : be- 
lieve in Christ, who, by miracles performed by his own 
unborrowed, underived power, has showm himself to be the 
Son of God, come down to save the lost w^orld : believe in 
our messages from him : believe in these our written testi- 
monies, which we now publicly deliver to you, and leave 
in the bosom of the church, to be transmitted to posterity. 

**And they did so in the very seat of opposition, even 
in Jerusalem. Within a few days after the descent of the 
Holy Ghost at pentecost, there were many thousands con- 
verted to the Christian faith in that city ; and no mean men 
were they : there were among them some of the chief 
priests, some of the chief men of the nation ; men who 
had been witnesses of all the leading events in our Lord's 
life and death ; and even those who had taken an active 
part in his trial, and in putting him to death. These being 
converted by the Spirit of God, stood up and publicly 
declared that they had seen these miracles, and felt the 
power of them on their own bodies, and on those of others 
before their eyes. To suppose that so many of the most 
intelligent persons in Jerusalem and Judea should thus be 
imposed upon, and induced to declare publicly that they 
believed wdiat they knew to be false, would, in fact, be the 
supposition of a miracle greater in its very nature, and 
surrounded with more difficulties than what any infidel, 
even of the most extraordinary credulity, would care to 
encounter. It is, in fact, an assertion by a few men no 
ways w^orthy of credit, that several thousands of people, the 
most virtuous in Jerusalem, and some of them the foremost 
men of the nation> had all, without any accountable motive, 
suddenly conspired to become an army of impostors." 

I paused to give the Avidow or her sons time to reply ; 
neither answer nor objection was offered. 



THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. J 9 

The discussion of the evidence drawTi from 'proiihecy 
was taken up, and at her request continued at intervals, as 
she was able to sustain it. We went over the field of 
prophecy touching the Jews and other ancient nations, and 
also those which respect events of a more recent date : we 
pointed out instances of fulfilment in the New Testament 
era, and also those now actually being fulfilled, relative to 
Jews, and Mohammed, and popish Antichrist. See Home's 
Introd., vol. 1, chap. 4, sect. 3. 

I had observed more than once, in my intercourse Avith 
this family, and indeed with all other Deists whom I had 
met, that whenever we entered on cool and deliberate aro-u- 
ment, on miracles, j^t'ojyhecy, or historical evidence, they 
chose usually to say little, or nothing. It occurred to me 
that, with a few exceptions, infidels are led by prejudice, 
or a vitiated taste, or a depraved heart, to adopt their the- 
ory ; and, with few exceptions, they contrive to keep them- 
selves in it by scoffing or ridicule, and not imfrequently by 
rude and boisterous merriment. Argument and investiga- 
tion seem out of the question. They fulfil, to the letter, 
the divine prediction, " There shall come in the last davs 
scoffers, walking after their own lusts ;" there being many 
things which they are "willingly ignorant of." 

I availed myself of an opportunity of drawing the atten- 
tion of the family to this ; and I was speedily convinced 
that, of all their antipathies, no one is stronger than that 
against the devoted " ministry.'" This occupied our atten- 
tion, in a singular discussion, the most of an afternoon. 

I asked a question for information — it was this : whether, 
next to the ''minister,'" they did not feel an imconquerable 
aversion to the peculiar ordinances of the Gospel, namely, 
hajjtism and the Lord's supper ? They seemed surprised 
at the question, but frankly admitted that they did ; that 
they not only ridiculed them, as they did the priests, but 
even detested them. 

I replied that it would, to me, have been inexplicable, 
if they had not hated them : and I went on to show them, 
that this proceeds from a deep principle in the corrupt 



20 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 

heart, and is cherished by the master spirit who opposes 
Christ. 

I set out in the discussion, by insisting on the distinction 
between the true pastor and the false pretender, the Ro- 
mish priest : two beings as distinct as the lawful magis- 
trate, and the fell despot. And by an appeal to reason 
and history, and to the character and office of the two — 
the one being the minister of Christ, the other the priest 
of antichrist — I succeeded in removing much of the odium, 
and, thence, very much of their prejudice. The "minis- 
ter" comes not to lord it over the conscience ; not to per- 
secute ; not to offer any new sacrifice " for the quick and 
the dead :" " Christ, by his one sacrifice, has for ever per- 
fected them that are sanctified." But he comes in the 
meekness of an unassuming teacher : he relies on no civil 
authority, no human power : he comes with no armor but 
the armor of truth : he comes with no traditions and ordi- 
nances of man : he appeals to the public documents of 
Christianity — ** to the law and the testimony." Out of 
these, lying open to every man's inspection, he reasons, 
and teaches, and urges, not as a lordly tyrant, but as the 
humble and devout follower of his divine Master. 

" And the influence of their moral exertions and religious 
labors in a nation are incalculable in their importance. 
There is one nation set up as a beacon on the stormy ocean ; 
I mean France, and she has the lesson before her, written in 
blood. Had the Bourbons not destroyed the reformed min- 
istry of France by a long series of persecutions — and thus 
overthrown the spiritual guides of the people, and quenched 
the lamps of truth — never would she, probably, have experi- 
enced the reign of atheism and terror in the old revolution. 

"Besides, my dear friends, the ministry exercise no 
dominion, no deceptions of ' priestcraft ;' they usurp no 
power not given to them from the word of God and the 
voice of the people. It is the Christian community who 
call out the ministry and sustain them. This the infidel 
'is ivilfully ignorant of P " Tlrfs produced a deep sensa- 
tion on the vouno' men. 



THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 21 

" Now, my friends, permit me to conduct you to the 
main point — and one which you, I presume, have always 
overlooked," said I, availing myself of Leslie's four rules, 
in his Short Method with the Deists. 

" We can demonstrate the truth and the facts of Christ's 
miracles, resurrection from the dead, and the gospel system 
and history, just as easily as you can, by national monu- 
ments, demonstrate the fact of our national Declaration of 
1776." 

I paused. They begged me to proceed. " Let me have 
your careful attention, then, to our four rules. 1st. The 
matters of fact commemorated, must be such that maris 
senses can be judges of them. 2nd. These deeds and facts 
must have been publicly done, in the face of men. 3d. Not 
only must public monuments have been set up, but certain 
outward actions performed in memory of these events. 4th. 
These monuments and outward actions must have been 
instituted, and must have commenced, at the time when the 
facts took place. 

*'Now apply these four rules to the miracles of Moses 
and his times, and to the miracles of Jesus Christ and his 
times. Let us, in order to be brief, confine ourselves to the 
last, namely, the miracles of Christ. 

" In accordance with the first two rules, the miracles of 
our Lord were palpable to men's senses, and publicly per- 
formed before men : such as the raising of Lazarus from 
the dead ; curing all manner of diseases, instantly, by a 
word ; and finally, his own resurrection from the dead : 
they Avere public, that is to say, before witnesses. Will you 
admit this ?" 

They nodded their assent with an interest which con- 
vinced me that I was understood. I went on, 

" Now, as the national rites of the Jews, and also the 
dedication of the Levites to the office of the priesthood, were 
the national monuments to perpetuate the knowledge of 
these facts ; even so the gospel ministry^ and the holy 
ordinances of the New Testament, are set up as the grand 
monuments to commemorate the Saviour and his works. 



22 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 

The same eyes and the same ears that witnessed the mh-a- 
cles of our Lord — and thousands witnessed them — saw 
these evangelical monuments set up and coiTesponding 
actions enjoined on their faithful observance. *'Do this in 
remembrance of me." "Go ye and preach the Gospel to 
every creature, baptizing them in the name of the Father, 
and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." 

"And fourth, these monuments were set up at the very 
date of those facts and miracles. And, like our own 
national monuments of the fourth of July, and our repub- 
lican magistracy, they have contmued to this day, in a 
regular succession, in memory of these facts and events. 
And I do aver, that it is just as reasonable to assert that 
an impostor could persuade twelve millions of people that 
they keep the fourth of July in memory of what never took 
place, or could palm the body of our republican magistrates 
on the American republic, under a charter which never 
existed, as to maintain with the Deist, that the Gospel and 
its institutions are the inventions of priestcraft. 

" The Gospel is as much a law to the Christian churches, 
as the laws of Moses were to the nation of the Jews. This 
Gospel declares, on the face of it, that these monuments, 
and the public office of the ministry, were appointed by 
Christ; and are to continue in unbroken succession to the 
end of time. 

"Now, let us suppose, as the Deist does, that this Gos- 
pel is a fiction; and, of course, invented. If invented in 
ancient times, and put forth under the names of the apos- 
tles, of course it must have been instantly detected by the 
living apostles and their thousands of Christian converts. 
In this era, then, they cannot date the age of the fiction. 
If a fiction, then it must have been invented in some period 
or other after Christ, and after the apostles had departed 
this life. Now, mark it well : if invented after them, then, 
at the time of the invention, there could be no public mon- 
uments, no ministry of the Gospel, no baptism, no Lord's 
supper, on the part of the Church, unless — what would be 
an extraordinai-y supposition — the cunning impostor in ques- 



THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 23 

tion did actually, by a miracle, invent and make all these 
public monuments ; and moreover did succeed in persuad- 
ing all the Christian nations and people to believe that 
they had actually been observing public rites, and had ac- 
tually seen the gospel ministry publicly officiating- — when, 
on the Deist's supposition, they did not, previous to that 
moment, actually exist ! 

" On the other hand, if the cunning impostor who in- 
vented the Gospel, appeared before men simply ^vith the 
Gospel as a luritten record, unaccompanied by any monu- 
ments, and without the clergy as its ministers, to expound 
and teach ; then that Gospel bore on the face of it the evi- 
dence of its own falsehood. It declares on its first pages, 
that this gospel ministry and these holy ordinances did ex- 
ist, and were used and celebrated by corresponding actions, 
in all times of the Gospel ; and yet these very monuments 
mentioned and appealed to by this impostor's gospel, were 
never yet seen, and never yet heard of, on the Deist's alle- 
gation ! 

" But here are monumental actions and official charac- 
ters existing in the successive generations from our Lord's 
resurrection : no man could palm these on the nations and 
Christian churches — these hold forth the Gospel from 
Christ; and their evidence is as irresistible and as decisive 
in favor of the facts and truths of the Gospel, to say the 
least, as the national monuments of our fourth of July, and 
our Declaration of Independence, and our body of the 
magistracy, prove, with irresistible demonstration, that we 
did separate from England, and did establish a republic in 
1776. 

'' And hence, in conclusion — this being the grand end 
of the monumental actions, and ofices — it is just as natural 
that the great adversary of Christ and his truth should 
stimulate into operation all possible hatred and malignity 
against them, as that he should excite all possible opposi- 
tion to the divine evidence of his holy word. If the chil- 
•dren of infidelity and darkness did not persecute the ' jyriest- 
hoocL' and hate the sncred ordinances of the Gospel, then 



24 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 

could the adversar}^ view unmoved, and without opposition, 
all the grand and palpable evidence of God's Gospel by 
these monuments. In one word, in proportion as Satan 
and his emissaries pursue, with unrelenting malignity, the 
ministry and the ordinances of Christ, so do they indicate 
their perception and deep conviction that their existence is 
an irrefragable evidence of the truth of the miracles and 
facts on which the glorious Gospel is immovably based !" 

The attention of the young gentlemen was excited by 
this to the highest degree. It was evident that they never 
had seriously examined into the nature, uses, or ends of 
these evangelical monuments. And as they expressed some 
anxiety to pursue this argument at length by themselves, I 
put into their hands the original of Leslie's Short Way 
WITH THE Deists. 

The next week, when I renewed my visit, my good 
friend, who had been with me at the last discussion, whis- 
pered in my ear, as we approached the sick chamber, 
" Sir, you must shoot lower !''' 

I had not a moment to reflect on this hint, nor did I 
conceive, at the moment, his meaning; in an instant we 
were by the death-bed of the general's widow. 

I found that she had been studying the New Testa- 
ment, at last ; the Holy Bible lay open, on a small round 
table by her bedside ; it was open at the seventeenth 
chapter of John. She had been weeping over it : several 
tear-drops still moistened the sacred leaves. Yet, in the 
course of conversation with her on the state of her mind, I 
could discover that we had only shaken her confidence — in 
no small degree, it is true, in that deceitful system in which 
she had been seeking repose. This was indeed much, but, 
alas, there was the same cold and deathlike aversion of the 
soul to Christ, and, I feared, an utter repugnance to his 
precious doctrines, and an obstinate aversion to the yielding 
up of her soul in submission to him. 

These six weeks we had been laboring ; and yet little 
progress, apparently, had been made. The words of the 
elder now occurred to me : " / must shoot lower.''' Hith- 



THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 25 

erto I had been exhibiting the outworks of the Holy Bible : 
now for its precious hidden treasures, its peculiar doctrines, 
the doctrines of the cross ; now we come to close quar- 
ters ; and may the Holy Spirit direct us. Amen. 

At this and my next interview I drew her attention to 
the nature of sin, viewed in the holy hght of God's spotless 
purity and impartial justice. I dwelt on its terrible influ- 
ence on the soul and the heart ; its bitter fruits ; its terrible 
guilt, as committed against the Holy One. I endeavored 
to bring before her mind its appalling evils, entailed on man 
in this world ; its inconceivable terrors on a dying bed ; its 
fearful retribution in the world to come. Behold the dis- 
plays of God's holy indignation against sin ; behold his an- 
ger against it, in all the evils w^hich infest our world — wars, 
famine, pestilence, death in every appalling form : it has 
turned the world into a Golgotha, and it has formed the 
bottomless pit ! 0, who can conceive, who describe the 
evil of sin — " the abominable thing which God hates !" 
And opening the Bible, I repeated certain texts with the 
solemnity befitting the subject. " God i& jealous, and the 
Lord revengeth : the Lord revengeth, and is furious : the 
Lord will take vengeance on his adversaries, and he reserv- 
eth wrath for his enemies : he is slow to ano^er, and of 
great power, and will not at all acquit the ivicked.'" 
" Upon the wicked God will rain snares, fire and brimstone, 
and a horrible tempest : this shall be the portion of their 
cup." ** They shall be punished with everlasting destruc- 
tion from the presence of the Lord and the glory of his 
power — when he shall come to be glorified," etc. etc. 
"I will gather you into the midst of the furnace, and I will 
blow on you in the fury of my wrath, and I will leave you 
there, and melt you." Ezek. 22 : 18-22. O then, "can 
thine heart endure, can thy hands be strong in the day that 
I shall deal with thee ? I the Lord have spoken it, and I 
will do it." wretched condition of the sinner ! God is 
angry with him every day ; he hardeneth his heart against 
his Maker: "he makes his brow as brass, and his neck a 
sinew of iron !" " He hideth himself in his false refuges; 
VOL. VIII. 34 



26 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 

lie flatters himself in his extravagant delusions : he saith in 
his heart, there is no God ; there is no justice ; there is no 
punishment ! He wars against conscience, and reason, and 
God ; until the hatefulness of his iniquity is found out." 
"A tempest stealeth him away in the night." 

These alarming passages of God's word, and this appeal 
sti-uck deep into her conscience : she had wept incessantly 
on her sister's bosom from the time that we had entered on 
this subject ; noAv her whole soul seemed to be bowed down 
under the rod of God ; and often she moaned out, " my 
God, is there no hope? God be merciful to me a sinner!" 

These touching exclamations led me instantly to the 
exhibition of the Lord Jesus Christ and his atonement. I 
drew her attention to the necessity of the atonement : 
"Without shedding of blood there is no remission." To its 
reality. Having the true and spotless matter of a sacrifice, 
a holy human nature, he offered up his one sacrifice, and 
once for all. " He was wounded for our transgressions ; he 
was bruised for our iniquities ; the chastisement of our peace 
was upon him, and by his stripes are we healed." "He 
hath made him to be ' a sin oft'ering' for us, who knew no 
sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in 
him." And, finally, its perfection. "The Lord is well 
pleased for his righteousness' sake : he will magnify the 
law, and make it honorable." And now, "behold the 
Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the world." 

" my God, I wish " She paused a long time. 

"I wish I had known these things years ago. But now — 
0, they are hid from mine eyes. I sinned against con- 
science and early instruction — I have sinned against the 
strivings of the Spirit. how wickedly I strove against 
him, and resisted him ! Now he has given me up — and 
there is no hope! I would not hioiv these things because I 
disbelieved the Bible." 

I now hastened to lay the gospel call before her wound- 
ed and broken heart; while I implored of God wisdom and 
spiritual skill to guide her, and woo her heart to Christ. 
The call of the Gospel I set before her, taking care that 



THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 27 

she should not lose sight of the fearful and just denuncia- 
tions of the pure law of God. From the top of Sinai I bade 
her hear the law : " Cursed is every one that continueth 
not in all thifigs written in the book of the law to do them." 
I pressed it on her conscience, while I implored of the 
Holy Spirit that she might be "so kept under the law,'' as 
to feel her utter helplessness from the deeds of the law ; 
and that she might " he shut tip to the faith,'' hedged in 
on every side, that being no longer left to go after false 
refuges, and self-dependence, and legal hopes, she might 
be ** shut up" to the one new and living way, " the faith of 
Christ," the simple rehance on him alone. 

I made a long pause, for my emotions had overpowered 
me. I felt as if choked. I could not find utterance for 
some moments. I thought of the misery of the sinner, and 
her guilt. I thought of the infinite purity of divine jus- 
tice, with which all sinners do most awfully trifle ; I 
thought of the horrors of perdition, and the worm that 
never dieth. I thought of this most gracious provision of 
God's grace by the mediation of his Son. what misery ! 
what a remedy ! blinded and most wilful sinners — 
they will not come unto him, that they may be saved ! O 
deplorable condition of this interesting woman ; so near the 
grave, and apparently, so ill prepared ! And in a mental 
agony I wrestled with God for her immortal soul. "0 
Holy Spirit, come, break, subdue, breathe life into the dry 
bones : breathe on her soul, and she shall live !" 

At this moment the elder drew near ; and taking her 
by the hand, said, " ' Turn thee, turn thee, why wilt thou 
die ? As I live, saith the Lord, I have no pleasure in the 
death of the wicked ; wherefore, return ye, and live.' 
Does not God even stoop to expostulate with thee ? hear 
his voice. 'Come now, and let us reason together, saith 
the Lord : though your sins be ds scarlet, they shall be 
white as snow: though they be red like crimson, they 
shall be as wool.' Yes, dear lady, thine iniquities are 
great — thy transgressions are infinite ! I lay no flattering 
unction to thy troubled conscience, but, glory be to his 



28 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 

grace, his mercy is equal to all thy misery ; his grace to 
thy boundless wants. ' Christ is able to save unto the 
uttermost all that come unto God by him.' " 

The "widow sobbed aloud ; and I could hear her utter 
in a suppressed moan, *' God be merciful to me a sinner ! 
what shall I do — what must I do, to be saved ? I believe 
the Bible to be from God. Can it lead me to a cure for a 
broken heart ? Is it Jesus Christ ?" 

''What avails it," continued the elder, not hearing 
what she said, " that thou shouldest reject the Holy Bible, 
and urge all the strength of infidel objections against the 
revelation of Christ ? thine immortal soul is quivering like 
a sere leaf on the autumnal bough, ready to drop into hell. 
tell me wherewith thou shalt come before thy Lord, or 
bow thyself before God ? Can the most costly offerings 
be accepted by thy Judge? How canst thou be justified 
before Him who is of purer eyes than to look upon iniquity ; 
w^ho cannot behold it without abhorrence ? Can the Judge 
declare that there is no sin, where thy conscience itself 
crieth out under the load of thy guilt ? Can he who has 
declared that he will by no means clear the guilty, even 
now acquit thee without an adequate reparation to law and 
justice? may God be merciful to thee a sinner! Deists 
may prate, and the profane may scoff ; but there is a God — 
there is impartial justice — there is a tremendous bar of 
judgment ! And there is a sentence under which the bold- 
est and stoutest-hearted blasphemer shall quail, as the 
fiercest demon in eternal darkness has quailed ! But 0, 
there is hope for thee. Cast away all thy transgressions ; 
there is justification for the chief of sinners." 

" how ?" cried she in a transport ; "where, dear pas- 
tor ; by what means ; by whom ? that I knew Him, I 
would come even to his feet." 

The elder's manner was severe, but his heart was all 
kindness : the evidence of this was manifest, for he was 
sheddinof tears Avhile he was utterinsf these searchinfj words. 
And then allowance must be made for him : he was the 
neighbor of the general and the widow's family, and he had 



THE GENERALS WIDOW. 29 

long been witness of the \iriilence and malignity with which 
the Holy Bible and the Christian religion had been treated 
in this family ; and he thought no convictions too deep, no 
remorse too pungent, no repentance tliorough enough, in 
such a penitent. 

She laid her hand gently on mine, and in deep distress 
repeated, " Tell me, tell me how% where, by ivhom I can 
be justified from this overwhelming guilt of my soul." 

I hastened to explain the nature of saving faith and 
evangelical repentance. I dwelt at some length on the 
nature and manner of justification before God, by faith in 
the atoning blood of Christ. I implored her, in the name 
of the Most High, to cast herself on the grace and mercy 
of God in Christ. " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, 
and t«hou shalt be saved." The gospel offer is clear, full, 
explicit ; so also is the call of mercy : " Come imto me, 
all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you 
rest." 

" Stop," said she, with a look of mingled emotion — 
"repeat that again." 

" Come unto me " — " Whom ?" cried she ; " what 7ne ? 
who speaks this to me ?" 

*' Christ the Lamb, the dear 'Lamb of God, who taketh 
away the sins of the world.' ' He bore our sins in his own 
body on the tree,' that such sinners as you and I may be 
saved, and never come into the second death. He says 
this ; and his saying is a command. Come, then, unto him : 

seek his Holy Spirit, to illumine thee and renew thee. 
Here is the promise." 

"What promise?" cried she, eagerly. 
" I will sprinkle clean water upon you, and ye shall be 
clean : from all your filthiness, and from all your idols, will 

1 cleanse you. A new heart, also, will I give you, and a 
new spirit will I put within you ; and I will take away the 
stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you a heart 
of flesh." Ezek. 36 : 25-27. 

*' may I venture ?" said she, in a low moan. " Hear," 
Baid I, " out of his own w^ord, the authority binding you, 
VOL. yiii. 34=^ 



30 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 

and the reason why you should venture instantly. * Ho, 
every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he 
that hath no money ; come ye, buy and eat ; yea, come, 
buy wine and milk without money and without price. In- 
cline your ear, and come unto me ; hear, and your soul shall 
live ; and I will make an everlasting covenant with you, 
even the sure mercies of David.' 'Ask, and it shall be 
given you ; seek, and ye shall find ; knock, and it shall be 
opened unto you.' * The Spirit and the bride say. Come ; 
and let him that heareth say. Come ; and let him that is 
athirst come ; and whosoever will, let him come and take 
the water of life freely.' " 

" O, my God, and are such promises, are such offers 
made to such as me?^^ 

" O yes, to thee and the chief of sinners : free is the 
gospel offer; perfect is the atonement; all-sufficient the 
blessed Saviour : and you have, as your warrant to come, 
God's own call. come unto him : accept him : add not 
the sin of fresh rebellion to all thy other sins. Believe in 
him noiv, and thou shalt be saved." 

Her face was bathed in tears : she covered her head, 
and turned herself round into the arms of her sister, who 
had been all this time supporting her on the bed. A long 
and deep silence occurred, interrupted only by her Ioav 
moanings and sobbings of pain and agon3^ The children 
hastened into her bedroom, as if anticipating her dissolution. 

Her son I leaned on a sofa opposite her bed, with his 

eyes fixed with intense interest oh us. 

The elder had bent his head down on his knees, and 
was wrestling for her soul in secret prayer ; and my spirit, 
in indescribable emotions, with some faint beamings of joy, 
Avas imploring the outpouring of the Holy Ghost. " Come, 
O breath of the Lord, and breathe on this crushed and bro- 
ken spirit. O leave her not ; let her not return again to 
folly. Deliver her, gracious Saviour: bring her up out 
of the deep waters. Set her feet upon a rock — the Rock of 
ages : put the new song into her lips. Holy Father, hear 
her, hear her in these secret wrestlins^s and ao^onies of 



THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 



31 



her soul ; and let it be seen that she is a vessel of mercy 
for the Master's glory. Amen." 

The silence was long and distressing, still interrupted 
by heavy moans and sighs. Meantime her sister, a mother 
in Israel and a ripe Christian, was whispering instructions 
and consolations into her ear. 

We rose to depart ; we were unwilling to interrupt these 
emotions ; and we hoped that these were the labors and 
travails of the new birth. She pressed my hand, and re- 
tained the hold of it for several minutes, without turning 
round or uncovering her head. 

'* My dear madam, farewell : may God bless you. You 
are on the borders of Jordan, for you are fast fading awaj^ ; 
and now we take our leave. I may never see you in the 
land of the living any more : pray, what are now your hopes 
and prospects in the solemn view of eternity ?" 

I shall never forget the scene that followed. She turned 
herself slowly round, raised her hands, and clasping them, 
said, in the most solemn tone, " 0, my Redeemer, I take 
thee — I take thee as my Saviour — now, wholly, only, and 
for ever." She paused; then added, "I have found thee, 
my Redeemer. Long, long have I wandered from thee, 
my Shepherd ; thou hast sought me, even me, in these 
dreadful wanderings. On thy bosom didst thou lay me, 
and bring me back. Dear Saviour, in thy righteousness 
alone have I hope and strength. Rich is the grace that 
saved a wretch like me." 

She spoke this in a low whisper, yet with great anima- 
tion ; and sunk back on her pillow, and gave way to a flood 
of tears. 

The elder looked first at her, then at me, and then round 
the circle of the children ; and in an ecstasy of joy, clasping 
his hands, and sinking down on his knees, he cried, " Then, 
dear pastor, let us give solemn thanks : the wanderer that 
was long lost, is found ; and she that was dead, is now 
alive." 

We all kneeled down by her bedside, and offered thanks 
and praises to the Hearer of prayer, who had in his rich 



32 THE GENERAL'S WIDOW. 

grace, sought out and brought back the lost sheep from the 
places whither she had Avandered in the cloudy and dark 
day. And we parted from her, "glorifying God in her 
behalf;" and rejoicing at the consolations of the Spirit 
which were abounding in her. 

I saw her only twice after this happy issue of her sor- 
rows : she continued to rejoice in hope of the glory of God. 
She seemed to be steadily engaged in meditation and secret 
devotion ; often repeating, with unusual satisfaction, these 
gracious words of Christ which had brought her comfort : 
*' Come unto me, all ye that labor ;" and delighting much 
in the daily reading of the Holy Bible. And her pious 
sister, who was by her night and day, told me that she died 
with the calmness, resignation, and mild joy of a Christian ; 
breathing out her soul into the bosom of the Redeemer ; 
uttering, in a low whisper, " Lord Jesus, receive my part- 
ing spirit : thou hast redeemed me, Lord God of truth." 

On the third day her funeral took place. And at the 
suggestion of my friend the elder, I gave a detailed account 
of the form of instruction which we had pursued in our first 
ten visits previous to her conversion. And the most of the 
inhabitants of that vicinity are alive this day, who heard 
the detail with emotions and tears of joy. For the church 
rejoiced in the grace and mercy of her Lord, who had given 
this signal triumph of his truth over the fell enemy that had 
sent desolation and woe, in former days, into this family. 



IVo. 288. 

FOUR REASONS 



AGAINST THE 



USE OE ALCOHOLIC LIClUOPtS, 



BY JOHN GRIDLEY, M. D. 

In presenting this subject, it shall be my aim to state 
and illustrate such facts and principles as shall induce every 
man, woman, and child, capable of contemplating truth and 
appreciating motive, to exert the whole weight of their in- 
fluence in favor of the '' Temperance Reform." There 
are Four Reasons which claim special attention. 

The FIRST reason we Avould urge, why the use of alco- 
holic liquors should be altogether dispensed with, is their 
immense cost to the consumers. It is estimated from data 
as unerring as custom-house books, and the declarations of 
the manufacturers of domestic distilled spirit, that previous 
to 1826, 60,000,000 gallons of ardent spirit were annually 
consumed in these United States ; the average cost of 
which is moderately stated at fifty cents per gallon, and in 
the aggregate thirty millions of dollars. 

Thirty millions of dollars annually ! A sum which, if 
spread out in one dollar bank-notes, end to end, would 
reach across the Atlantic. Or, if in silver dollars piled one 
upon the other, would form a column nearly thirty miles 
high ; and which it would occupy a man twelve hours in 
each day, for almost two years, to enumerate, allowing him 
to count one every second. Or to suppose a useful appli- 
cation of this fund, it would support annually from two to 
three hundred thousand young men in preparing for the Gos- 
pel ministry. In three years it is a smn more than equal to 
the supply of a Bible to every family on the habitable globe. 



2 FOUR REASONS AGAINST 

One-half the amount would defray all the ordmary expenses 
incident to the carrying on of our nation's governmental 
operations every year. Thus I might multiply object upon 
object, which this vast sum is adequate to accomplish, and 
carry the mind from comparison to comparison in estimat- 
ing its immense amount ; still the cost, thus considered as 
involving the iKcuniary resources of the country, is a mere 
item of the aggregate, when the loss of time, waste of provi- 
dential bounty, neglect of business, etc., incident to the 
consumption of this one article, are thrown into the account. 
A SECOND REASON why its use should be condemned is, 
the entire inadequacy of any jiroperty it 2^ossesses to imixirt 
the least benefit, either nutrient, or in any other way sub- 
stantially to the consumer, to say nothing just now of its 
never-failing injurious effects. Alcohol consists chemically 
in a state of purity of carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen ; in 
the proportions of carbon about 52 parts, oxygen 34, and 
hvdroG^en 14 to the 100. The addition of water forms the 
various proof spirits. It can be generated in no way but 
hj fermentation : no skill of art has yet been able to com- 
bine the above elements in such proportions, or relations, as 
to produce alcohol, except by heat and moisture inciting 
fermentation in vegetable substances. But it should be 
understood, that vegetables may undergo a certain degree 
of fermentation without producing alcohol ; or, if suffered 
to produce it, another stage of fermentation will radically 
destroy it, and produce an acid. Thus, any of the vege- 
table substances, as corn or rye, subjected to a certain de- 
gree of heat and moisture, will soon suffer a decomposition, 
and a development of sugar, to a greater or less degree, 
will take place. If removed now from circumstances favor- 
able to its farther fermentation, as is the case with dough 
for bread, etc., no appreciable quantity of alcohol is created. 
A further degree of fermentation, however, is generative of 
alcohol, and if arrested here, the alcohol maintains its de- 
cided character ; while still another stage presents the ace- 
tous state, and the alcoholic property is lost in vinegar. As 



THE USE OF ALCOHOLIC LIQUORS . 3 

in our opinion, success to the temperance cause depends much 
UDon a rio-ht understandins^ of ivhat alcohol is, and the man- 
ner of its production, a more simple illustration may not be 
hiappropriate here. 

A farmer takes a quantity of apples to the mill in order 
to convert them into cider. He grinds, then lays them up 
into a cheese, when pressure is applied, and the juice runs 
into a vat placed to receive it. Here, at this stage of the 
business, there is no alcohol in the juice. It is now put into 
casks, and the sweet or sugar stage of fermentation, which 
is already begun, soon passes into the vinous or alcoholic 
stage, as it is called, and alcohol is formed. The prudent 
farmer, at this point, when the juice is done worJcing, or 
fermenting, immediately bungs his casks, and does such 
other things as his skill and experience may suggest, to 
prevent his cider becoming sour, which it will do if the third 
stage of fermentation is permitted to succeed. Here, then, 
he has perfect alcohol, though in small proportions ; as per- 
fect as it is in brandy, gin, rum, and whiskey. The same 
results ensue from subjecting corn, rye, barley, etc., to such 
processes as is customary to prepare them for distillation, 
namely, to such a degree of fermentation as that alcohol is 
formed. And when the alcohol is formed by fermentation, 
then it is drawn off, by distilling, from its union with the 
other materials in the fermented mass. Alcohol, then, is 
strictly the product of fermentation. It is not, and cannot 
be produced in any other way. To distil, therefore, is only 
to lead it off from its union with the vegetable mass, and 
show it naked with all its virulence. 

Having considered the manner in which alcohol is 
formed, let us examine some of its properties. It contains 
nothing that can afford any nourishment to the body, and 
consequently it can impart no strength. When taken in 
certain quantities, diluted with water, as it must be for 
common use, its effect is, to arouse the energies of the sys- 
tem, and for a while the individual feels stronger ; but this 
excitement is always followed. by depression and loss of 



4 FOUR REASONS AGAINST 

animal and mental vigor. Thus it is a mere provocative to 
momentary personal effort, without affording any resources 
to direct or execute. Hence the fallacy of that doctrine 
held by some, that to accomplish deeds of daring, feats of 
muscular strength, etc., with success, demands the drinking 
of spirituous liquors. Were I about to storm an enemy's 
battery, with no alternative before me but victory or death, 
I might, principle aside, infuriate my men with the madden- 
ing influence of ardent spirit, and let them loose upon the 
charge, as I would a wounded elephant, or an enraged 
tiger. But in attaining an object to which the combined 
energies of mind and body were requisite, I should never 
think of the appropriateness of spirituous liquor to aid the 
effort. 

But an objector says, " I certainly feel stronger upon 
drinking a glass of spirit and water, and can do more work 
than I can without it. I can swing a scythe with more 
nerve, or pitch a load of hay in less time ; and feel a general 
invigoration of my body during the heat of a summer's day, 
after having drank a quantity of grog. How is this ?" We 
reply, doubtless you feel for the moment all that you de- 
scribe ; but your feeling strength thus suddenly excited, is 
far from being proof that you are really any stronger. The 
opposite is the fact ; which we infer from the inadequacy 
of any substance, be it ever so nutritious, to impart strength 
so suddenly, as it would seem ardent spirit did when drank; 
for there has not been sufficient time for digestion, through 
which process only can any substantial nourishment be de- 
rived to the body. The apparent strength which an indi- 
vidual feels upon drinking ardent spirit, is the same in kind, 
though not in degree, Avith that which a man feels who has 
lain sick with a fever fifteen or twenty days, during which 
time he has taken little food, and been subjected to the 
weakening influence of medicines ; but who on a sudden 
manifests great strength, striving to rise from his bed, etc., 
and in his delirious efforts must be restrained perhaps by 
force. Now no man in his senses will call this any real 



THE USE OF ALCOHOLIC LiaUORS. 5 

increase of strength in the sick man, who has been starving 
thus long ; but only a rallying of the poAvers of life under 
the stimulus of disease, Avhich is always followed by extreme 
languor and debility, if not by death. So it is with the in- 
dividual under the influence of ardent spirit : he feels the 
powers of his body excited from the stimulus of the spirit ; 
yet, as we think must be clear to the apprehension of any 
one, without any addition of actual strength. 

Again, alcohol is not only innutritions, but is jyoisonoui^. 
Taken into the stomach in an undiluted and concentrated 
state, in quantities of two or three teaspoonfulls, it destroys 
life, as clearly shown in Accum's experiments. Combined 
with different proportions of water, sugar, etc., it is modi- 
fied in its effects. Most of the vegetable and mineral 
poisons may be so diluted and modified as to be capable 
of application to the bodies of men internally, without pro- 
ducing immediate fatal consequences ; which, nevertheless, 
cannot be used any length of time, even thus disarmed, 
without producing pernicious effects. So it is with alcohol : 
like other poisons, it cannot be used any length of time, 
even diluted and modified, without proving pernicious to 
health, and if persevered in, in considerable quantities, in- 
evitably destructive to life. This last sentiment, however, 
we will consider more particularly under the 

Third reason for the disuse of alcohol : It destroys 
both body and soul. It is estimated that thirty or forty 
thousand died annually in the United States from the intem- 
perate use of ardent spirit before the Temperance reforma- 
tion began. Thirty or forty thousand ! a sacrifice seldom 
matched by war or pestilence. The blood which flowed 
from the veins of our martyred countrymen, in the cause 
of freedom, never reached this annual sacrifice. And the 
pestilential cholera, ruthless as it is, which has marked its 
desolating track through many of our towns and cities, 
numbers not an amount of victims like this plague, much 
as its virulence has been enhanced by ardent spirit. The 
destructive influence of immoderate drinking upon the 

VOL. VIII. 'io 



6 FOUR REASONS AGAINST 

bodily powers of men, is painfully apparent, sometimes long 
before the fatal catastrophe. The face, the speech, the 
eyes, the walk, the sleep, the breath, all proclaim the dry- 
ing up of the springs of life. And although abused nature 
will often struggle, and struggle, and struggle, to maintain 
the balance of her powers, and restore her wasted energies, 
she is compelled to yield at length to suicidal violence. 

The efiect of the habitual use of ardent spirit upon the 
health, is much greater than is generally supposed. An 
individual who is in the habit of drinking spirits daily, al- 
though he may not fall under the character of a drunkard, 
is undermining his constitution gradually, but certainly ; as 
a noble building, standing by the side of a small, unnoticed 
rivulet, whose current steals alono- under its foundation, 
and carries away from its support sand after sand, has its 
security certainly though imperceptibly impaired, and finally 
falls into utter ruin. A large proportion of the inmates of 
our madhouses are the victims of ardent spirit. Our hos- 
pitals and poor-houses speak volumes of the ruin that 
awaits the bodily powers of those who indulge in even 
moderate tippling. It exposes the system to much greater 
ravages when disease attacks it. The powers of nature are 
weakened, and less able to resist disease; and medicines 
will never act so promptly and kindly upon those who are 
accustomed to strong drink as upon those who are not. 

But where is the soul, the disembodied spirit of a de- 
ceased drunkard ? " No drunkard shall inherit the king- 
dom of God," is the plain declaration of sacred writ ; and 
were there no such scriptural denunciation of the wretched 
inebriate, the very nature of his case would render his pros- 
pect dark and dismal. In the intervals of his cups, when 
his animal powers are not goaded by artificial excitement, 
his distressed spirit partakes of the horrible collapse of its 
polluted tenement, and can contemplate no motive, however 
weighty, nor entertain any other thought, be it ever so in- 
teresting, than how to relieve its present wretchedness. 
When, then, can the unhappy man find peace with God 



THE USE OF ALCOHOLIC LiaUORS. 7 

amid this tumult of his unbalanced faculties, this perturba- 
tion of his unholy passions ? How utterly unfitted to per- 
form those duties which are requisite to secure a blessed 
immortality ? 

Our FOURTH REASON for the disuse of alcoholic hquors 
is, that any thing short of entire abstinence exjjoses to all the 
dread consequences just named. Here is the grand hope of 
our cause. Total abstinence defies all danger and mocks 
at consequences. With it, we are safe ; without it, in peril. 

JSTo man was ever horn a drunkard ; nor are we born 
with a natural taste or thirst for alcoholic drinks, any more 
than we are born with an appetite for aloes, assafoetida, or 
any other drug or medicine. And the child when first 
taught to take it, is induced to do so only by sweetening it, 
and thus rendering it palatable, a^ is the case with other 
medicines. Neither is it, at any time, the taste or flavor of 
alcohol, exclusively, that presents such charms for the use 
of it ; but in the effect upon the stomach and nerves lie all 
the magic and witchery of this destructive agent. In proof 
of this, watch the trembling victim of strong drink while he 
pours down his morning or mid-day dram, and see him 
retch and stningle like a sickened child at a nauseous 
medicine. Ask him, too, and he will confess it is not the 
taste for which he drinks. Intemperate drinking is ever 
the result of what has been misnamed temjperate drinking. 
"Taking a little" when we are too cold, or too hot, or wet, 
or fatigued, or low-spirited, or have a pain in the stomach, 
or to keep off fevers, or from politeness to a friend, or not 
to appear singular in company, etc., etc., or as is sometimes 
churlishly said, "when we have a mind to." 

And here I shall step aside a little from the main argu- 
ment, and attempt to explain the effects which temperate 
drinking has upon the animal system ; and how it leads to 
ruinous drunkenness, by a law of our natures, certain 
and invariable. The nervous system, as I have said, is that 
department of our bodies which suffers most from stimulants 
and narcotics. Although the circulation of the blood is 



8 FOUR REASONS AGAINST 

increased, and all the animal spirits roused by alcoholic 
drink ; still, the nerves are the organs that must finally bear 
the brunt and evil of this undue excitement. Thus we see 
in the man who has been overexcited by these stimulants, 
a trembling hand, an infirm step, and impaired mental vigor. 
The excitahility of our system — and by this term we mean 
that property of our natures which distinguishes all living 
from dead matter — is acted upon by stimuli, either external 
or internal ; and it is by various stimuli, applied properly, 
and in due proportion, that the various functions of life are 
kept up. Thus a proper portion of food, and drink, and 
heat, and exercise, serves to maintain that balance of action 
among all the organs, which secures health to the individual. 
But if an agent is applied to the system, exerting stimulant 
powers exceeding those that are necessary for carrying on 
the vital functions steadily, an excitement ensues which is 
always followed by a corresponding collapse. This princi- 
ple is clearly illustrated by the stimulus of alcohol. If a 
person unaccustomed to its use receives into his stomach a 
given quantity of distilled spirits, it will soon produce symp- 
toms of universal excitement. The pulse increases in fre- 
quency ; the action of all the animal functions is quickened ; 
and even the soul, partaking of the impulse of its fleshly 
tabernacle, is unduly aroused. But this is of short duration, 
and a sinking, or collapse, proportioned to the excitement, 
soon takes place, with a derangement, more or less, of all 
the organs of the body. The stimulus repeated, the same 
effect ensues. We must, however, notice that the same 
quantity of any unnatural stimulus, such as opium, spirit, 
etc., frequently repeated, fails to produce its specific effect. 
Hence, in order to secure the same effect, it is necessary to 
increase its quantity. Thus, to a person indulging in the 
frequent or stated practice of drinking, before he is aware, 
the repetition becomes pleasant. As the accustomed hour 
returns for his dram, he regularly remembers it ; again and 
again he drinks ; the desire increases ; he makes himself 
believe it is necessary from the very fact that he desires it ; 



THE USE OF ALCOHOLIC LiaUORS. 9 

the principle, or law, of which we have been speaking, de- 
velopes itself; an increased quantity becomes necessary to 
insure a feeling of gratification ; more, and still more be- 
comes necessary, and oftener repeated, until without it he 
is miserable ; his overexcited system is wretched, soul and 
body, without the constant strain which the stimulus affords. 

Here is a solution of tlie fact that has astonished thou- 
sands ; how the unhappy drunkard, with all the certain 
consequences of his course staring him in the face, and 
amid the entreaties and arguments of distressed friends, 
and the solemn denunciations of holy Avrit sounding in his 
ears, and the sure prospect of an untimely grave, will still 
press on, and hold the destroyer still firmer to his Hps. It 
is because nature shrieks at every pore, if I may be allowed 
the expression. Every nerve, every vein, every fibre pines, 
and groans, and aches for its accustomed stimulus. No 
substitute will do ; no ransom can purchase relief ; insatiate 
as the grave, every fibre cries, Give, give ! The dictates 
of reason are drowned in the clamor of the senses. Thus 
the temperate drinker, hy persisting in the practice, throws 
himself within the influence of a law of his system, of which 
he can no more control the development, nor resist the 
urgency, than he can that law which circulates the blood 
through his heart, or any other law peculiar to animal life. 
That law is the law of stimulation, which is never unduly 
aroused, exce.pt by sinful indulgences ; but when aroused, 
is dreadfully urgent. We will state a case strikingly exem- 
plifying the influence of this lavr. 

A gentleman, an acquaintance and friend of the writer, 
contracted the habit of drinking during his college course. 
He settled in the practice of the law in one of the villages 
of his native state. He soon became invested with oflices 
of honor and profit, and although young, gave promise of 
shining brilliantly in the profession he had chosen. He was 
the pride of a large and respectable family, Avho witnessed 
his growing prospects with that satisfaction and dehght 
which the prosperity of a beloved son and brother cannot 
VOL. viii. 35* 



10 FOUR REASONS AGAINST 

fail to impart. In the midst of these circumstances the 
physician was one day called in haste to see him. He had 
fallen into a fit. His manly form lay stretched upon the 
carpet, while his features were distorted and purpled from 
the agony of the convulsions. After some days, however, 
he recovered, without having sustained any permanent in- 
jury. Being in company with his physician alone, soon 
after, he said to hira, " I suspect, sir, you do not know the 
cause of my fit ; and as I may have a return of it, when 
you will probably be called, I think it proper that you 
should be made acquainted with my habits of life." He then 
informed his physician, that for a number of years previous 
he had been in the daily use of ardent spirit, that the prac- 
tice had grown upon him ever since he left college, and that 
he was conscious it injured him. However, it was not known 
even to his own family what quantity he used. His physi- 
cian did not hesitate to inform him of the extreme danger to 
his life in persisting in the use of intoxicating drinks. He 
acknowledged his perfect conviction of the truth of all that 
was said, and resolved to abandon his wicked course. 

Not many weeks after, he was seized with another fit ; 
but owing to the absence of the family physician, he did not 
see him until some time after he had come out of it. The 
physician, however, who attended, informed him it was vio- 
lent. After repeated assurances of his increasing danger, 
and the remonstrances of friends, who had now begun to 
learn the real cause of his fits, he renewed his promises 
and determination to reform, and entered upon a course of 
total abstinence, which he maintained for several months, 
and inspired many of his friends with pleasing hopes of his 
entire reform and the reestablishment of his health. But, 
alas, in an unguarded moment, he dared to taste again the 
forbidden cup, and Avith this fled all his resolutions and 
restraints. From that time he drank more openly and freeh\ 
His fits returned with painful violence ; friends remonstrated, 
entreated, pleaded, but all in vain. He thus continued his 
course of intemperance, with intervals of fits and sickness. 



THE USE OF ALCOHOLIC LiaUORS. H 

about eight or ten months, and at length died drunk in his 
bed, where he had lain for two or three weeks in a continual 
state of intoxication. 

The writer has stated this case in detail, to show the 
influence of the law of stimulation, or what in popular 
language is termed, "the appetite for spirituous hquors," 
when once it is awakened. 

Here we have the instance of an individual, of a fine and 
cultivated intellect, with every thing on earth to render him 
happy, that could be comprised in wealth, friends, honor, 
and bright prospects. Ay, indeed, too, he professed an 
interest in the blood of the Saviour, and had communed 
with Christians at his table ; surrounded by those whom he 
tenderly loved, the wife of his bosom, and the dear pledges 
of her devotion. Yet, in spite of all these considerations, 
and the most sensible conviction of his fatal career, he con- 
tinued to drink, and thus pressed downward to the gate of 
death and hell. 

Now what was this? What giant's arm dragged this 
fair victim to an untimely grave ? Was it for the want of 
motives and obligations to pursue an opposite course ? No. 
Was it for the want of intellect and talents to appreciate 
those oblio^ations ? No. Was it trouble, arisino: from dis- 
appointed hopes and blasted prospects ? Certainly, by those 
who knew him best, he was accounted a man who might 
have been happy. What was it, then, that urged this indi- 
vidual, with his eyes open upon the consequences, and in 
the face of every thing most dear, thus to sacrifice his all 
upon the altar of intemperance ? It ivas that laiu of which 
we have spoken, enkindled into action by his tippling, and 
which once developed, he could no more control, ivhile per- 
sisting in his pernicious practice of drinking, than he could 
have hurled the Andes from their base, or have plucked the 
moon from her orbit. 

We say, then, that all persons who drink ardent spirit 
habitually, bring themselves inevitably under the influence 
of a law peculiar to their natures, which leads on to ruin. 



12 FOUR REASONS, ETC. 

Instances may indeed have occurred, in which individuals 
have used ardent spirit daily for a long course of years, and 
yet died without becoming drunkards ; but it only proves 
that these have been constitutions that could resist the 
speedy develojpment of the law in question. Where one indi- 
vidual is found with a constitution vigorous enough to resist 
the development of this law through a life of habitual drink- 
ing, thousands go down to a drunkard's grave, and a drunk- 
ard's retribution, from only a few years' indulgence. 

We have thus briefly shown the immense cost of the use 
of alcoholic liquors. We have shown that they contain no 
property that can impart substantial strength or nourish- 
ment to the body ; and that they are actually a poison. We 
have shown that they destroy both body and soul ; clouding 
the view of truth, and resisting the influences of the Holy 
Spirit. "No drunkard shall inherit the kingdom of God." 
We have shown that the temperate use of these liquors tends 
inevitably to the intemperate use ; since those who drink 
them habitually, throw themselves within the influence of 
a law of their natures, which leads on directly to ruin. 

In view of such considerations and such facts, who is so 
degraded, so enslaved to appetite, or the love of gain, that 
he will not lend his aid to the Temperance Reform ? Who 
will indulge in what he calls the temperate use, flattering 
himself that he can control his appetite, when thousands, 
w^ho have boasted of self-control, have found themselves, 
ere they were aware, within the coil of a serpent whose 
touch is poison, and whose sting is death ? 0, who that 
regards his neighbor, his family, his own reputation, or his 
own soul, will in this day of light be found dallying with 
that which aff'ords at best only sensual pleasui^e, and which 
at the last biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder? 



TKo. 289. 



TO A LADY 



FASHIOIABLE LIFE. 



My dear Friend — The long and uninteniipted friend- 
ship which has existed between us, and the deep interest I 
have felt in the best good of your family, will excuse me 
for claiming your indulgence, and for speaking with unusual 
freedom. You are aware that I have been led to reo*ard 
some of the customs of fashionable life in w^hich we have 
indulged, in a new light ; and knowing my opportunities for 
observation, you will, I am persuaded, allow my opinions 
their full weight. You are not without occasional solici- 
tude for your own future welfare ; and you often look with 
trembling anxiety on your sons and your daughters : and 
amid all the temptations that surround you, it is reasonable 
that you should. 

I shall confine my remarks at this time to dancing as- 
semblies and the theatre. The Jirst you have considered 
as essential to an accomplished education for vour children ; 
and the second, as an innocent, if not a useful recreation, 
both for yourself and them. 

To secure for your children an agreeable and fashion- 
able indulgence in the first, it often seems necessary to com- 
mit them early to the care of men with whom you would 
not associate, and whose very profession is a bar to truly 
refined and virtuous society. To such characters, not un- 
frequently the very refuse of foreign and corrupted cities, 
you must send your children to learn ease and gracefulness 
of movement and manners. You must send them from your 
own home, not unfrequently to places of public and hazard- 
ous resort, and this too at an age of tenderest and most 
delicate sensibility, and at hours of the greatest exposure. 
Is all this exposure warranted by the object to be secured ? 



2 TO A LADY IN FASHIOxXABLE LIFE. 

Passing by considerations of loss of time, health, and waste 
of intellectual resources, I appeal to your sense of proprie- 
ty, as a lady and a mother, if the movements, attitudes, and 
evolutions of modern dancing are not inconsistent with those 
pure and delicate sensibilities which you wish your sons and 
your daughters to cherish, and hazardous to those princi- 
ples Avhich you would wish to cultivate? Under all the 
exciting influences of societ}'', music, and refreshments pecu- 
liar to the time and place of this recreation, do you not 
tremble for tlieir safety ? Not only the principles of pride, 
vanity, and extravagance are fostered, but delicate sensi- 
bility and unsullied purity are left exposed, and often rude- 
ly assailed. 

Your children, with all the youth of our city and our 
country, are more or less exposed to vice and ruin ; and the 
fact should not be withheld, that there is no resort of wide 
and ruinous debauchery, where the young and unsuspect- 
ing are decoyed, to which music and the dance are not con- 
sidered as essential trihutaries. Around these habitations 
is thrown a brilliancy that catches the eye, while strains of 
enlivening and voluptuous music salute the ear ; and within, 
the lascivious movements of the dance bewilder and enchain 
the young, till the unsuspecting and the matured in vice 
sink together in the embrace of infamy and death. Can this 
be gainsaid? No. These thousand receptacles of rob- 
bery and crime are sustained and upheld by enchanting 
music and the dance. Grant that this amusement is inno- 
cent in itself, it is from its very nature tributary to the evils 
of which I speak. 

Consider also what communities and what nations are 
most addicted to indulgence in this amusement. France 
and Italy. And as to morals and virtue, purity and chasti- 
ty, what are France and Italy ? Facts here are too appal- 
ling to be disclosed. 

There is, unquestionably, from the nature of the amuse- 
ment itself, even in its most innocent form and limited ex- 
ercise, a tendency to inflame passion, to poison virtue, en- 
danger purity, and to lead on to. more gross and deadly evils. 
If not, then sin and death have seized an innocent recrea- 
tion, and made it to subserve their cause, in maturing crimes 
at which humanity shudders, and in annihilating hopes and 
destroying souls beyond computation. And who that is 



TO A LADY IN FASHIONABLE LIFE. 3 

wise will cultivate and allow recreations at such perils as 
these ? 

I will take but one other view of this subject at this 
time. You are destined to the grave, and with your off- 
spring to the judgment-seat of Christ. You and they are 
always liable to death. And as dying and immortal beings, 
would you crowd the last days and hours of life with such 
recreations, even though esteemed innocent ? Ah, there is 
in your very nature a shrinking back from them, as you 
bring eternity to view. The conflagration of that house of 
mirth, and the youth falling dead in the midst of such 
pleasures, send a shock to the soul, and that too, wholly 
unlike the emotion that swells the heart, as the crowded 
ship sinks in the sea, or a soul, by an explosion, is sent in a 
moment to eternity. And why this difference of feeling ? 
Simply, the moral difference of circumstances under which 
these souls exchanged worlds. Moral principle decides this 
instinctively, and tells us plainly, that there is something 
besides innocent recreation here. As the youth in his gaye- 
ty fell from the precipice and was lost in the raging stream, 
we were drawn to the fatal spot with tenderest sympathy ; 
while he who falls and mingles his dying groans with sounds 
of mirth, appals the very heart of affection. This moral 
impression no man can erase, and it is no doubtful monitor 
of the tendency of this amusement. 

The remaining subject upon which I wish to speak, is 
that of the theatre. Its tendency is obviously still more 
immoral, and it sweeps in its resistless tide countless victims 
to disgrace and death. I have always been astonished, even 
in my most youthful days, that ladies called respectable 
should frequent a theatre, and allow their daughters to be 
there. I have been led to believe they could not be aAvare 
of its true character. Though you are not a stranger to 
the theatre, there may be facts connected with it which 
have escaped your observation, and which show it to be a 
perilous place for your children. 

You are not ignorant of the low repute in which the 
stage has been held ever since its establishment, and that 
no man can remain a respectable member of society who 
becomes a public actor. Both in heathen and in Christian 
countries, infamy is attached to the profession. Whether 
this arises from the corrupting influence of the scenes acted. 



4 TO A LADY IN FASHIONABLE LIFE. 

or from a just impression of the moral character of the stage, 
it is not necessary to inquire. My object is simply to show 
that the theatre is unsuited to the refinement of female 
character, and often fatal to youthful purity. 

You are aware that it is not a place for the cultivation 
of female delicacy. You must allow that there are few 
tragedies or comedies, presented on the stage, in which 
there is not much that is either profane or vulgar. Proba- 
bly you never passed one evening at a theatre without wit- 
nessing things which were highly indecorous, '' and which, 
had they passed in a private family, you would have retired 
from with indignation, and considered your reputation as 
ruined by your return," Much that you there hear and 
see, is at direct war with delicate sensibility and every vir- 
tuous feeling. Could you, with any gentleman on earth, in 
your own drawung-room, read what is there rehearsed ? 
Would you have reacted, at your own house, what is there 
presented ? Can you then with propriety allow yourself 
and your family to participate in those amusements abroad, 
which would disgrace and ruin the reputation of your own 
house ? Examine the internal arrangements of the theatre, 
the character of the audience, and the ordinary, if not the 
necessary influence of what there transpires. You leave 
your home with your family, unsuspicious of danger. Seated 
in your box, can you read the character of those who are 
crowded around you? Allow that the^j are intelligent and 
virtuous. Look below into the pit, and the refuse of the 
city is swept to fill this reservoir of degradation. Look 
above you, and arrayed in all the fascinations of dress and 
beauty, are the profligate and abandoned of your own sex. 
In every corner of this immense edifice are presented new 
temptations to indulgence. In another apartment, both 
spacious and splendid, is stored every luxury, to gratify, 
stimulate, and fire the passions, already too much roused by 
the scenes of the stage. Here your sons may retire on the 
natural errand of procuring refreshments for yourself and 
daughters ; and here, too, they may learn the first lessons 
of fatal indulgence, and be allured beyond the reach not 
only of safety, but of your remonstrance and your tears. 
Here are crowds, who meet to make their arrangements of 
guilt, and who, by the aid of stimulants, so mingled and 
poisoned as to arouse to a flame the most fatal passions. 



TO A LADY IN FASHIONABLE LIFE. 5 

seize and lead captive many a victim, who entered with un- 
sullied innocence. Other departments of this frightful hab- 
itation I will not disclose; but if the testimony of those 
who know them best can be beheved, they are enough to 
deter every virtuous female from ever placing her foot upon 
its threshold. 

As to the society you here meet, you must acknowledge 
that it is not the most intelligent, virtuous, and refined. You 
are crowded with those who are already poisoned with vice, 
and with many who are already lost to every sense of shame. 
With the great mass whom you here meet, you would not 
be known under other circumstances to associate at all. 
Will you then train your family to such society ? Will you 
expose them to influences which lie wholly beyond your 
control ? Let me say to you, that multitudes are here pre- 
pared for the most gross and abandoned characters that in- 
fest our city ; and that so well is this understood, that seats 
in the galleries of some theatres are free to the most aban- 
doned of our race, and the keepers of dram-shops, of gam- 
bling-rooms, of assignation-houses and abodes of infamy, 
here resort, to mark and seize their victims, and from this 
nursery of death they are gathered in multitudes. Here 
many of our youth of either sex, and from the highest walks 
of life, have entered guileless and unsuspecting, but retired 
to sink in speedy disgrace and death. Shall your own sons 
and daughters be exposed yet to swell that melancholy 
number? Consider the influence of these scenes on the 
character and prospects of the ^ounr/ generally, many of 
whom have not the securities with which your family are 
furnished : nor can you fail to reflect that the time may 
soon come, when even yours may be deprived of a mother's 
watchfulness, and be left alone. 

" Among the causes of vicious excitement in our city," 
says Professor Griscom of New York, " none appear to be 
so powerful in their nature as theatrical amusements. The 
number of boys and young men who have become deter- 
mined thieves, in order to procure the means of introduc- 
tion to the theatres and circuses, would appal the feelings 
of every virtuous mind, could the whole truth be laid open 
to the public. In the cases of the feebler sex the result is 
still worse. A relish for the amusements of the theatre, 
without the means of indulgence, becomes, too often, a mo- 
VOL. viii. 86 



6 TO A LADY IN FASHIONABLE LIFE. 

live for listening to the first suggestions of the seducer, and 
thus prepares for the haunts of infamy, and a total desti- 
tution of all that is valuable in the mind and character of 
■women. 

" During the progress," he adds, " of one of the most 
ferocious revolutions which ever shocked the face of heaven, 
theatres, in Paris alone, multiplied from six to twenty-five. 
One of two conclusions follows from this. Either the spirit 
of the times produced the institutions, or the institutions 
cherished the spirit of the times ; and this will certainly 
prove that they are either the parents of vice or the off- 
spring of it." 

The infidel Rousseau declares, that the theatre is, in all 
cases, a school of vice. Su' John Haw^kins, in his life of 
Johnson, says, " a playhouse and the regions about it are 
the very hotbeds of vice." Archbishop Tillotson declares 
the theatre a nursery of licentiousness and vice. Bishop 
Collier says, " that he was persuaded that nothing had 
done more to debauch the age in which he lived, than the 
stage-poets and the playhouse." And even Plato has de- 
clared that " plays raise the passions and pervert the use 
of them, and are of course dangerous to morality." 

Let it not be argued that these amusements are securi- 
ties against grosser immorality. They rather prepare the 
way for such immorality. They are to multitudes the very 
cause of gross, profane, and fatal habits, and the highway 
to infamy and death. There is not a man on earth, who 
imderstands the resources of the theatre and the results to 
which they lead, who will question for a moment the truth 
of this declaration. With all the innocence and purity as- 
cribed to these amusements, they are linked to a chain of 
downward and deteriorating causes, while they never are 
to upward and more virtuous associations. 

But you have sons, in whose prosperity you feel the 
deepest interest, and whose danger is peculiarly great. The 
customs of society impose restrictions on the female mem- 
bers of respectable families which young men do not feel. 
The hour arrives when the one class are handed to their 
homes, not indeed in the most favorable circumstances, but 
they retire perhaps to the wakeful solicitude of a mother's 
love, and it may be beneath the guardianship of a mother's 
prayer. But the other class are now left alone, to review 



TO A LADY IN FASHIONABLE LIFE. 7 

the events of tlie evening. They pass their commendations 
and their strictures, not always in the most chaste and be- 
coming manner, for the nature of the subjects under review 
does not always admit it. Under the lassitude and exhaus- 
tion of past hours, they seek additional stimulants to refresh 
and invigorate. The night is far spent, the remainder of it 
is exhausted in feasting and in games, and a weary and dis- 
eased frame is dragged out to the employments of another 
day, or seeks repose to recruit its energies. 

As the gay scene closes, a crowd of young men are 
thrown out upon the open bosom of our city, who have no 
homes to visit, no parents nor friends to watch over them ; 
and with minds poorly fitted to retire to their solitary re- 
pose, they visit the brilliant retreats that blazon around the 
place of their recreation. Temptations are spread before 
them, and where mere curiosity first led their steps, hope 
of gain now binds them, and by the fatal influence of a sol- 
itary night, many are irrecoverably lost. 

To others, the refreshing air of night will invite a walk 
from the concluded scenes of the theatre. They too, may 
have no guardians nor waiting friends to fear or regard. 
They soon hear the strains of that voluptuous music which 
never sleeps. Led by curiosity, the unsuspecting victim 
pauses at the brilliantly lighted habitation, while all is gay- 
ety within. He hears '' of peace-offerings from enticing 
lips'' — ''he goes as an ox to the slaughter — a dart strikes 
through his liver — this house is the way to hell, going doivn 
to the chambers of death.'' Oh, a million of youth, paid back 
to broken hearts, would not replace the sacrifice thus made 
in a single city. 

My dear friend, those amusements in which you have 
indulged, and allowed your sons and daughters to indulge, 
do contribute powerfully to these tremendous evils, and 
from your endeared circle, a victim may yet be snatched — 
a just, yet melancholy sacrifice, to these your perilous in- 
dulgences. As a lady of fashionable life, and of influence, 
as one who respects morality, and who would, by no means, 
abandon the hope of future piety, will you not suspend this 
indulgence ? For the safety, virtue, and salvation of your 
children, will you not do it? Can you ever retire again 
from these amusements, with your daughters, and not feel 
that your virtuous sensibilities have been endangered ? Al- 



8 TO A LADY IN FASHIONABLE LIFE. 

low me to add, in the language of a distinguished gentle- 
man, " It is amazing to think, that women who pretend to 
decency and reputation, whose brightest ornament ought to 
be modesty, should continue to abet, by their presence, so 
much unchastity as is to be found in the theatre." If this 
astonishment could be expressed fifty years ago, what ought 
to be the language of astonishment now ? You live in a 
day when an experiment is making upon female delicacy 
and self-respect ; and it is called, by the advocates of the 
theatre, a " hold exjyeriinenty It is an experiment on your 
virtue and moral principle ; and shall it be said, that there 
is not " shrinking delicacy " enough in your bosoms to repel 
and refute their boastings, '' that they hove now nothing to 
fear?'' You may have frowned upon this rude encroach- 
ment, which has already been made upon your modesty 
and virtue ; but that frown has not been followed by your 
continued absence, and you thus are giving encouragement 
to another and more daring experiment. If you, and the 
more respectable and virtuous females of our city and coun- 
try will not withdraw from these polluting scenes, no one 
can calculate the degradation to which we are doomed ; 
and you and they may yet be called to weep when tears 
will be unavailing; and the miserable wrecks of your en- 
deared hopes may add keener anguish to your dying hours. 
You must die, and then you will not need the anticipations 
of an eternal state to harrow up your soul in view of pre- 
cious seasons lost in folly and in sin. But there is, my 
friend, an eternal state oi just and righteous retribution ; 
and will you longer expose your soul, and the souls of your 
offspring, to its fatal issues ? Tell me, I pray you, in view 
of death, judgment, and eternity, are these scenes longer to 
be loved ? If there is not a remnant of anxiety for your- 
self remaining in your soul, will you lead, by the hand of 
parental influence, your beloved children to the gates of 
death ? You will meet them in eternity ; and Oh, calculate, 
if you can, an eternity of happiness lost to them and to 
you — an eternity of misery by them and you to be endured ! 
I am sincerely and affectionately your 

FRIEND. 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



No. 390< 

THE 



BOLD BLASPHEMER. 

A NARRATIVE OF FACTS. 



About thirty miles from the place in which for a number 
of years I resided, lived a respectable family, with whom I 
frequently tarried for a night, and became well acquainted. 
In that new country there are very few taverns except in 
towns, and at the house of Mr. W. L. I always received 
a hearty welcome. He Avas a frank, open-hearted, hospita- 
ble man, and though himself irreligious, was quick-sighted 
to discern consistency of character, and respected the man 
who was not ashamed of his religion. I had several times 
heard him mention that the overseer he had employed for 
a number of years was sick, and had gone to live nearer to 
a physician, and he often expressed his fears that " poor T. 
would not recover." His complaints were of such a nature 
as almost to preclude the hope. 

I asked something about the character of the sick man ; 
and in reply Mr. L. said, ''He is the best manager I ever 
had, but he is the most wicked swearer I ever heard. Bad 
as I am myself, it chills my very blood to hear him. It 
seems to me his oaths must come from the lower regions, 
they are so wicked." I asked, "Does he not seem sensible 
that he has but a little time to live ?" Mr. L. answered, 
" I told him last week that he did not seem to be getting 
any better, when he broke out in such a volley of curses, 
that I was almost afraid to stay in the house. -He cursed 
his Maker for sending upon him such sufferings. He cursed 
the physicians for not curing him. He cursed me for tell- 
ing him he would not get well. I never heard such pro- 
faneness. It was awful to hear him." 

When J. T. found there was no hope of cure, he re- 
quested to be carried home to the house of his employer, 
and here I saw and heard this bold blasphemer. My first 
VOL. viii. 36* 



2 THE BOLD BLASPHEMER. 

interview Avas very brief, and he attempted no reply to the 
few words I addressed to him. 

In the same neighborhood hved a humble Christian, 
whom this blasphemer had delighted to ridicule. As soon 
as good Mr. G. heard of J. T.'s return to the neighborhood, 
he took his Bible, and went over to see him. To the usual 
inquiry as to his health, he uttered a horrid oath, and said, 
" You see I am sick, what do you ask me for ?" Mr. G. 
remarked, " Yes, I know you are sick, and I came over to 
sit a while and have some talk with you." 

T. " Well, if you have any news to tell me, speak out ; 
but don't say a word about your cui'sed religion. I hate it." 
Mr. G. " Why do you hate religion ?" 
T. " I never saw any body made better by it." 

G./' How is that ? Look at James S . Is he the 

same horse-racer, and fighter, and drunkard, he used to be ? 
Is he none the better for his religion ?" 

T. " Perhaps he is ; but there is H. W. over the river, 
he pretended to become a Christian, and there is not a 
greater cheat in the whole county of W." 

G. "It is true he is a professor of religion, but it is to 
be feared from his conduct, that his heart is not right with 
God. But you don't throw away all your bank-notes be- 
cause you get now and then a counterfeit. One of the best 
evidences of the excellency of the Christian religion is, that 
its enemies expect its professors to be good and holy men. 
True religion makes those who possess it good men, good 
husbands, and fathers, and masters. Now T., you know in 
your heart this is true." 

T. " And you know if I was not sick I could outtalk 
you, and head you up, whichever road you took ; but I am 
too sick to talk, and I don't care about hearing any more 
preaching." 

G. "1 make no question of your superior abilities ; but 
I think God has made me a hcqypier man than some I 
know." 

T. *'/ am not a happy man, God knows." 
G. " But I can tell what would make you happy." 
T. "I know what you are going to say, but say on." 
G. Opens his Bible and reads. " This is a faithful say- 
ing, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came 
into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief." " Be- 



THE BOLD BLASPHEMER. 3 

lieve on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thoii shalt be saved." 
** Repent ye, therefore, and be converted, that your sins 
may be blotted out." " He that, being often reproved, 
hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed, and that 
without remedy." '' Every one of us shall give account 
oi himself to God." 

Even these passages of Scripture, with the few remarks 
by which they were accompanied, were so offensive, that 
while the good man was yet speaking, T. summoned un- 
wonted strength, crawled off his bed, and succeeded in 
reaching a bed in the adjoining room. Mr. G. was greatly 
affected, and after some appropriate conversation with Mrs. 
L. left the house. 

The next evening a pious man, who stopped to spend 
the night, attempted to have some conversation with T., but 
finding it only irritated him, he desisted. His case was, 
however, particularly mentioned in family prayer ; but it 
so enraged the sick man, that he seized a chair Avith the 
strength of a maniac, and struck his black boy who waited 
on him. 

T.'s situation became every day more and more distress- 
ing. As he became conscious he could not live much longer, 
his hatred to God, to Christians, and to the Bible, increased 
in malignity. Mrs. L. told him, that so dreadful were his 
imprecations and curses, she was terrified continually, and 
feared some heavy judgment would be sent on the whole 
house. I saw him at this time, and can never forget his 
appearance. He was emaciated to a skeleton. His sharp 
black eye liad an unnatural fierceness ; his voice was deep 
and hollow. There was a haggardness in his looks, a rest- 
less impatience and anguish depicted in his face, such as I 
never saw before. I was journeying in company with a 
clergyman, and we stopped to spend the night with our 
hospitable friend, W. L. I knew our visit would be pleas- 
ant to Mrs. L., as she had recently indulged hope in Christ. 
I knew, too, that she was greatly distressed and worn out 
by the scene which was passing before her, and that a visit 
from my friend would be gratifying to her, as she had told 
me that his conversation on the importance of a prepara- 
tion for death had been the means of leading her to the 
Saviour. 

We entered the usual sitting-room, and here lay poor T. 



4 THE BOLD BLASPHEMER. 

He could not bear to be left alone, and at his urgent request 
he had been removed to this room, forgetting that he must 
go alone to try the realities of eternity — that he must go 
alone to the judgment-bar of the God he had so often blas- 
phemed. 

As soon as conversation could be introduced, ni}^ fellow- 
traveller inquired of T. as to the nature of his complaints, 
etc. He was very free to converse on this subject ; the 
more so, probably, because he knew that Mr. W. had some 
medical knowledge. He related his symptoms, his suffer- 
ings, the various remedies used, etc., and finding he was 
listened to patiently, he seemed quite animated, possibly 
with the faint hope that something could yet be done for 
him. Mr. W. endeavored to draw from him whether he 
had any hope of recovery, and it appeared evident that if 
he had any, it was very feeble. In a very tender, but 
solemn manner, Mr. W. then spoke of the change which 
awaits all men, of the eternity to which all are hastening, 
of the judgment-seat before which all must stand, and of 
the final sentence from Avhich there is no appeal, no escape. 

We listened with breathless anxiety, and I trust more 
than one offered up fervent petitions that this poor sinner 
mio-ht awake to a sense of his dano-er. It was the first time 
that he had listened so long to any serious conversation 
without interrupting it. I perceived he was restless, and I 
had begun to indulge the hope that we should hear him 
exclaim, '' Sirs, what must I do to be saved ?" But, alas, 
when the question was asked, *' Do you feel prepared to 
stand before the holy and just God, to whose eyes all things 
are naked and open?" he broke out, saying, 

"■ I am as much prepared as I ever shall be ; and if I 
am not, it is none of your business." 

Fixing his eyes full upon him, Mr. W. said, ''Young 
man, let me tell you, you may realize your situation yet 
before you die ; you may Avish in vain for the short time 
which appears to be now between you and eternity. You 
can live but a few days ; it may be, but a few hours. God 
calls you now to repent. But if you loill not, if you harden 
your heart and stiffen your neck, you may call when God 
will not hear, you may stretch out your hand when he will 
not regard, because you have set at naught all his counsel, 
and despised his reproof." 



THE BOLD BLASPHEMER. 5 

Mr. "W. was asked to lead in family prayer ; and here 
another opportunity offered, which was eagerly embraced, 
of reaching the case of the sick man. A suitable portion 
of Scripture was read, a solemn and affecting exhortation 
given, and then such a prayer offered as it seems to me I 
never united in before. I thought T. would be melted ; 
but no, he was wroth — he tossed upon his bed — he rolled 
over — his eyes. Oh I can never forget their expression- — he 
raised himself up — he tossed to one side of the bed and the 
other — he rose upon his feet — staggered to the door — was 
caught and seated in a chair in the entry till the prayer was 
over, and then brought back to his bed. 

Nothing more was said to him that night. But it was 
to him a night of unspeakable horror — his groans we could 
distinctly hear, intermingled occasionally with shocking 
oaths. He was evidently afraid to sleep himself, and 
seemed determined that no one else should. 

We took our leave early in the morning, when again a 
word was addressed to him. A week after, we heard that 
this bold blasphemer had gone to the eternal world. The 
circumstances of his death were related to me by Mr. and 
Mrs. L., and Mr. G. 

Two nights after we left him, there was evidently a 
change for the worse, which he was the first to notice. He 
had an hour or two of disturbed sleep, and awoke in great 
distress both of body and mind, crying out, " I shall die ; 
Oh I am dying, and shall go to hell." 

Those around him tried to tell him about the Saviour 
of sinners, but he would not hear. He continued to ex- 
claim, " I am lost — 0, I am lost — I shall go to hell." 

He requested Mr. W. to be sent for ; but as it was 
thought he could not live through the night, and the dis- 
tance was great, it was not judged best to send. He then 
requested old Mr. G. to be sent for. The old man soon 
came. 

Mr. T. " do pray for me, I must die, and go to hell." 

Mr. G. " You must prav for yourself." 

T. "I can't." 

G. "You can say, ' God be merciful to me a sinner.' " 

T. '' no I can't. God will not hear such a wretch." 

G. " But my prayers cannot save you ; you must pray 
for yourself; you must repent of sin. You must believe in 



6 THE BOLD BLASPHEMER. 

the Lord Jesus Christ ; yield up yourself to him, and 
through his atoning blood all your sins shall be forgiven." 

T. " do pray — do pray for me." 

His request Avas complied with ; but he continued his 
groans and exclamations, so that it is probable he heard 
but little of the prayer. When Mr. G. ceased, he begged 
him to read the Bible. This was done. If Mr. G. stopped, 
he would cry out, "do read," or "do pray," or "do talk." 

Mr. G. fearing he w^as depending on him to save him, 
and knowing that he was rapidly going into eternity, left 
the house. He told me he could scarcely endure the 
moans and cries which this blasphemer uttered. They 
seemed not the cries of a penitent pleading for mercy, but 
of a soul suffering under God's w^rath, and tasting the cup 
which his own folly and wickedness had mixed. He tossed 
upon his bed, lashed by the upbraidings of conscience, and 
there seemed to be realized in his case " a certain fearful 
looking for of judgment and fiery indignation " from his 
offended Creator. 

He was often urged, during these hours of anguish, to 
repent now — to ^:)ray noio. To which he invariably answered, 
" I can't — 'tis too late — too late — 'tis too late for me. Take 
warning by me, take warning — 'tis too late for me." In 
this manner he continued to groan, and toss, and struggle, 
till nature was exhausted. 

Thus died this bold blasphemer. And now w^here 
is he? 

Reader, here is a simple narrative of facts. Many per- 
sons were acquainted with the man and the manner of his 
death. I often heard it talked about while I lived in that 
part of the country. I am sure that no one who saw him 
during the last week of his hfe can ever forget him. Often 
have I thought of his appearance, and my blood has chilled 
in my veins. Yet, hardened and wicked as he was, " his 
sin found him out." Even in this world he felt the gnaw- 
ings " of the worm that never dies." He had a clear per- 
ception of what his sins deserved, and though he trembled 
and shrunk at the sight, yet no meltings of godly sorrow 
came over his soul. No change of posture gave ease to his 
tortured spirit. He had often prayed that God would 
damn his soul ; but now he felt he could not pray that it 
might be saved. He had racked his invention to make the 



THE BOLD BLASPHEMER. 7 

most absurd and Avicked oaths, and now he saw them re- 
turning upon his own soul, and ready to sink him to that 
world of woe from Avhich he seemed to have borrowed lan- 
guage to express the wickedness of his heart. 

"It is too late — too late for me," was his cry, when 
urged to repent — "Too late — too late.'' "He knew his 
duty, but he did it not." He knew that he was a creature 
of God, who had a claim to his obedience. He knew that 
his laws were holy, just, and good, and that he had wilfully 
broken them, and incurred the penalty, " The soul that sin- 
neth, it shall die." 

Reader, is it yet " too late " for you ? Are you still in 
your sins ? Is it nothing to you that God your Maker 
claims your obedience and love ? Is it nothing to you that 
the Redeemer has died, and that " he that believeth " in 
him "shall be saved, and he that beheveth not shall be 
damned ?" 

Are you a profane swearer? "Be sure your sin will 
find you out." Have you ever prayed God to "damn your 
soul?" He has heard that prayer, and it may be, he will 
answer it according to your request. And now let me se- 
riously ask you, can you calmly repeat the impious prayer 
you have so often uttered ? Can you do it ? Dare you do 
it ? Are you so hardened in sin that you can deliberately 
pray for " damnation V 

Think, what is it to be damned — to be cast off from 
God, from happiness, from heaven, and cast down to hell, 
the prison of despair ? Think, too, that this will be eternal. 
God hath said, "The wicked shall go away into everlasting 
punishment, where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not 
quenched." 

Do you plead as an excuse for swearing, that you do it 
thoughtlessly, that you have acquired the hahit, and now 
you hardly know when you swear? This is a dreadful 
acknowledgment that you so constantly break the com- 
mand, "Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy 
God in vain," that it has become habitual. You thus ac- 
knowledge that you care not for the command, and defy 
the penalty. 

Do you say that you only swear when you are in a 
passion ? Do you offer this as an excuse ? Will you carry 
up this excuse to the judgment of the great God, before 



8 THE BOLD BLASPHEMER. 

whom you must answer for " every idle word ?" Will you 
tell him that you broke his commands thoughtlessly, habit- 
uall}'-, and when you were in a passion ; or do you hope to 
escape the notice of Omniscience ? Think not that in that 
immense assembly, when all who have lived shall stand 
before the Judge, you may be overlooked or passed by un- 
observed. 110. He who numbers the hairs of ypur head ; 
whose eyes, as a flame of fire, have been fixed upon you 
during all your wayward course ; Avho has often warned 
you by his providence, his ministers, his Spirit, and by 
your own conscience ; who has borne with you patiently, it 
may be twenty, thirty, or fifty years ; he will not let you 
escape. The mountains will not heed your call, nor will 
the hills cover you " from the face of Him that sitteth on 
the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb." 

Now, fellow- sinner, what will you do? Conscience 
whispers that you are verily guilty. What then will you 
do ? Come to a decision. Will you continue this senseless, 
absurd, wicked practice of swearing ; or will you break off 
from this, and all other sins, and lead a life of obedience to 
all -the commands of your Maker? Will you throw aside 
this Tract, which pleads with you, as a man with his friend, 
to think of these things as you will wish you had done 
when you come to die ? Will you deliberately crowd these 
considerations out of mind, and pursue the same downward 
course ? Will you, when your eternal all is at stake, throw 
away your soul ? Throw it away ! Where ? Into the cold, 
dark, cheerless gulf of annihilation ? This you cannot do. 
You cannot cease to exist. no. If you repent not, you 
Avilfully throw your soul into that boundless, unfathomable 
abyss where no sound is heard save " v>'eeping, and wailing, 
and gnashing of teeth for ever." 

*^* The facts in the above narrative are fully substantiated to 
the Committee of the American Tract Societ}^ 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 



]¥o. S91 



THE 



HORRORS OF HEATHENISM. 




The object of these pages is to present the moral condi- 
tion of the heathen, and the motives for sending them the 
glorious Gospel. The facts are from the most authentic 
sources, chiefly from eye-witnesses ; and the subject is pre- 
sented with the devout hope, that such compassion for the 
miserable and perishing may be awakened as will rouse to 
ardent prayer and more active benevolence. 

I. EXTENT OF HEATHENISM. 

More than half the earth's surface is covered with moral 
darkness. Almost the whole of the vast regions of Asia 
and of Africa, extensive portions of North and South Amer- 
voL. VIII. 37 



2 HORRORS OF HEATHENISM. 

ica, together with numerous islands of the sea, belong to 
the empire of paganism. In its deplorable darkness are 
enveloped, according to the besi authority, not less than 
five hundred millions of the human race; and these regions 
embrace many of the fairest portions of the globe. Nature 
is nowhere seen in more lovely attire, and has been nowhere 
more lavish of her bounties. In grandeur and beauty of 
scenery, in fertility of soil, in variety of useful productions, 
they are exceeded by none on earth. Let the eye of Chris- 
tian benevolence run to and fro through this immense em- 
pire of darkness. Truly the harvest is great. 

n. ABSURDITIES OF HEATHENISM IN RESPECT TO THE DEITY AND 
DIVINE WORSHIP. 

1 . Objects of worship. More than two hundred millions 
of our race, embracino^ China and contioruous countries, are 
Buddliists, worshipping a great variety of imaginary deities, 
paying homage to the spirits of departed ancestors, and to 
innumerable idols. More than fifty millions are worship- 
pers of the Grand Lama, a deified human being. More 
than one hundred millions, includincr Hindostan and rec^ions 
adjacent, are worshippers of the deity under three forms, 
Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva, Avith numberless subordinate 
deities. The millions inhabiting the various Asiatic and 
Pacific islands worship an -endless variety of false gods, 
represented by images in every variety of monstrous and 
disgusting forms. In different pagan nations various ani- 
mals receive divine honors, as the cow in India, various rep- 
tiles in South Africa, the shark among the natives of the 
Pacific isles, and the crow among natives of the North-west 
coast. The luminaries of heaven are also deified, as are 
rivers, and trees, and departed souls of men, and malignant 
demons. 

2. Their religious rites evince the greatest degradation. 
In some regions they are attended with excessive cruelties. 
"The shark," says Rev. Mr. Ellis, "was formerly worship- 
ped in the South Sea islands. On the occasion of worship, 
the priests sallied forth, and wherever a company of per- 



HORRORS OF HEATHENISiM. 3 

sons were assembled, a rope with a noose was suddenly and 
unexpectedly thrown among them, and the first person taken 
in the snare, man, woman, or child, was strangled, cut in 
pieces, and thrown 'into the sea, to be devoured by the 
shark." 

Dr. Buchanan writes, "The horrid solemnities of Jug- 
gernaut continue. Yesterday a woman devoted herself to 
the idol. The wheel did not kill her instantaneously, as is 
generally the case, but she died in a few hours. This morn- 
ing, as I passed ' the place of skulls,' nothing remained but 
her bones." 

Religious rites in some regions are most disgusting. 
"Tlie car of the chief Hindoo idol," says Dr. Buchanan, 
" moved on a little way and then stopped. A boy of about 
twelve years was then brought forth to attempt something 
yet more lascivious, if peradventure the god would move. 
The child perfected the praise of his idol with such ardent 
expression and gesture that the god was pleased, and the 
multitude emitting a sensual yell of delight, urged the car 
along." The Hindoo gods are represented as examples of 
every kind of licentiousness, and as pleased with correspond- 
ent rites of worship. Their images and the sculpture of 
their temples are spectacles of impurity. The whole idol 
system exerts a most debasing and demoralizing influence 
upon the mind. What a contrast between paganism and 
revelation on the grand point, the character of God and the 
way of acceptance with him ! 

III. THE HEATHEN HAVE NO CORRECT VIEWS OF A FUTURE 
STATE. 

This is another affecting feature of their moral degrada- 
tion. The Chinese and the Hindoos — and theirs is the faith 
of more than half the heathen world — believe in the trajis- 
migration of the soul, or its passage after death, from the 
present body to some other; the good to nobler, the bad 
to viler bodies. These views involve a mere animal exist- 
ence after death, and rewards and punishments correspond- 
ing to such an existence. Various African and Indian tribes 



4 HORRORS OF HEATHENISM. 

suppose the future state a sort of continuance of the pres- 
ent, involving similar wants, and perils, and circumstances. 
Accordingly the grave of the Indian receives also his dress, 
arms, etc. Retribution to the good will consist of cloudless 
skies, unfaihng verdure, and abundant game, with all the 
luxuries of sensual appetite; while the wicked are to en- 
dure all the torments of ungratified desire in barren lands, 
abounding with wild beasts and venomous serpents, and 
darkened with storms and tempests. Without greater par- 
ticularity on this subject, it may suffice to say, that while 
we find no pagan nation destitute of some idea of a future 
state, we find none whose views are not mingled with ex- 
travagant absurdities. While they have been unable to 
resist the impression of a future life, they have given to a 
corrupt and disordered fancy the privilege of drawing such 
a picture as she pleased. 

In respect to character, moral debasement is the univer- 
sal tendency of heathen views of futurity. An anticipated 
sensual paradise countenances the baser appetites, while the 
fierce and mahgnant passions are inflamed by the supposed 
future rewards of success in war or schemes of revenge. 
Instead of awing the transgressor's mind and repressing 
evil deeds, the reverse is the melancholy fact. And on 
happiness t\ie\v influence is no less disastrous. By bloody 
sacrifices of human victims, by unbounded indulgence of 
hateful lusts and malignant passions, countenanced and 
encouraged as these are by absurd views of a future world, 
the sum of human misery has been vastly increased. How 
beneficent the hand that bestows that Gospel which brings 
" life and immortality to light," which sets truly before the 
benighted pagan's mind the things that shall be hereafter ! 

IV. VICE AND CRIME AMONG THE HEATHEN. 

Under the influence of polluting and debasing views of 
the Deity and divine worship, of incorrect apprehensions 
of a future world, and the grinding oppression of despotic 
rulers, iniquity bursts forth in heathen countries in prodig- 



HORRORS OF HEATH ExXISJI. 5 

ious luxuriance. Our limits forbid a survey of the great 
sea of pagan wickedness. The united voice of all who have 
dwelt among the heathen proclaims, that none but those 
actually present to behold them can have any idea of Avhat 
revolting scenes of depravity are every day witnessed. 
Those upon the spot declare, that the awful picture of hea- 
then abominations, drawn in the first chapter of Romans, is 
essentially the state of heathenism as developed before their 
eyes. Vice bursts over all control, and rolls its waves of 
corruption on every side. The whole idol system, all over 
the earth, is full of abominations : it carries its deluded vic- 
tims down to such a frightful depth of shameless pollution 
as renders details too revolting to be endured. 

V. THE MISERIES OF THE HEATHEN ARE VERY GREAT. 

1. Despotic governments produce incalculable misery. 
The arm of oppression often strips men in an hour of the 
gains of years, thus plunging famihes, sometimes whole dis- 
tricts, into the depths of poverty and misery. Capricious 
and sanguinary laAvs stretch the rod of terror over the 
enslaved and trembling subject. Property, liberty, or life, 
must be surrendered at the caprice of a tyrant. 

2. Religious customs inflict great miseries. It has ever 
been a favorite pagan notion, that suffering was pleasing to 
the Deity. This is often voluntary, inflicted by deluded 
devotees upon themselves. The flesh is cut or pierced with 
sharp instruments, tortured by fire, or emaciated by absti- 
nence from food. A most miserable death is often the con- 
sequence of this infatuation. Some cast themselves upon 
iron spikes, which inflict deadly wounds ; others bury them- 
selves alive in the earth ; others sink themselves Avith heavy 
stones to the bottom of the ocean ; others throw themselves 
beneath the wheels of idol cars. The funeral pile in India 
was a dreadful specimen of self-inflicted misery. 

" In the year 1799, twenty-two females," says the Lon- 
don Christian Observer, " were burnt alive with the dead 
body of Unutio, a Brahmin. The fire was kept burning 
VOL. VIII. 37* 



6 HORRORS OF HEATHENISM. 

three days. When one or more arrived, the ceremonies 
were gone through with, and they threw themselves upon 
the blazing fire ! On the first day three were burned ; on 
the second and third days nineteen more." '' Another Brah- 
min died near Serampore, who had married forty women ; 
all but eighteen had died before him. On this occasion a 
fire extending ten or twelve yards in length Avas prepared, 
into which the remaining eighteen threw themselves, leaving 
more than forty children." In the Bengal presidency in 
nine years, from 1815 to 1824, the number of suttees (cases 
of burning as above) Avas 5,997. 

The sufferings by pilgrimages in India are immense. 
More than 300,000 persons have been known to visit a fa- 
vorite idol in a single year. By disease and want a fright- 
ful havoc of life is occasioned. The London Missionary 
Register gives the following facts from an eye-witness : 
*' The poor pilgrims are to be seen in every direction dead, 
or in the agonies of death ; lying by fives, tens, and twen- 
ties ; and in some parts there were hundreds to be seen 
in one place." " I saw one poor creature who was partly 
eaten, though alive ; the crows made an incision in the back, 
and were pulling at the wound when I came up. The poor 
creature feeling the torment, moved his head and shoulders 
for a moment ; the birds flew up, but immediately returned 
and recommenced their meal." 

'3. Their miseries are multiplied by the ivant of natural 
affection. This principle is weakened, and it seems in some 
cases totally destroyed. The infirmities of declining life, 
instead of being soothed by filial tenderness, are the occa- 
sion of cruel abandonment, or death is hastened by bloody 
weapons. " Sometimes," says Rev. Mr. Ellis, " the South 
Sea native, tired of waiting on him, would pierce his aged 
and unsuspecting father with a spear. Sometimes the chil- 
dren would pretend they were carrj^ing their father to bathe, 
when they would throw him into a grave previously pre- 
pared, stifle his cries, and put an end to his life by throwing 
large stones upon him." 



HORRORS OF HEATIIEMSM. ^ 

"Infanticide has prevailed in almost every heathen coun- 
try. " Hundreds of helpless children," says Mr. Kingsbu- 
ry, "have been murdered among the Choctaws. Sometimes 
the mother digs a grave and buries her child alive as soon 
as it is born ; sometimes she puts it to death by stamping 
on its breast, by strangling, or knocking it on the head." 

"A Hindoo woman cast her child, between three and 
four years old, into the Ganges, as an offering to the god- 
dess. The little creature made its way to a raft of bamboos 
that happened to be floating by, and seizing one end of it 
was di'ifted along, crying to its unnatural parent for help. 
She perceiving from the shore the danger of the child's 
escaping, plunged into the water, tore away its hold, broke 
its neck, and hurled its life-warm corpse into the middle 
of the current, by which it was soon drifted out of sight." 
Tyerman and Bennett's Journal. 

4. Heathen wars are cruel. War is horrid enough under 
all the mitigations of civilized life, but in pagan lands it is 
carried on with terrible ferocity. Scarcely could unchained 
demons, bursting from their abodes beneath, make more 
horrid exhibitions of malignant passions. " The barbarity 
of wars in the South Sea islands," says Rev. Mr. Ellis, "was 
dreadful. Here a warrior mio^ht be seen tossincy little chil- 
dren and infants into the ail', and catching them upon the 
point of his spear, where they expired in agonies. There 
another might be seen dragging in savage triumph five or 
six lifeless children by a cord, which had been passed suc- 
cessively through their heads from ear to ear. Yonder, all 
covered with gore, another might be seen scooping with his 
hands the blood from the gushing trunk of his decapitated 
foe, and drinking it with hideous exultation." 

5. Their sorrows are multiplied by indifference to each 
other s woes. The most hard-hearted selfishness is gener- 
ated by heathenism. The sick languish unattended; the 
poor perish by cruel neglect, or direct acts of inhumanity. 
"As we passed, we saw a poor man lying dead among the 
heaps of grain. He had just picked up a few husks of peas 



8 HORRORS OF HEATHENISM. 

and grain, which it appears he had been attempting to eat, 
but was too far gone. Not a single man in the market 
would give this poor creature one handful of wheat to save 
his life." Christian Observer. 

" Every Hindoo," says Dr. Ward, " in the hour of death 
is hurried to the side of the Gan2:es, or some sacred river, 
where he is exposed to the burning sun by day and the 
dews and cold by night. Just before the soul quits the 
body he is immersed to the middle in the stream, while his 
relations stand around him tormenting him in these last 
moments with superstitious rites, and increasing an hundred 
fold the pains of dying. Very often when recovery might 
be hoped for, these barbarous rites bring on premature 
death." 

6. Sense of insecurity is a great source of misery. Ev- 
ery thing dear in the present world, friends, property, lib- 
erty, and life, are in constant jeopardy from the rapacity of 
despots. The storm may burst at any moment, taking every 
thing dear at a single stroke, or repeat its visit, emptying 
the vials of wrath, drop by drop. The effects of super- 
stition in this respect, especially in Africa, are appalling. 
" When one of the royal family dies, human blood must flow 
as an offering to the gods. On these occasions the princes 
rush out, seize the first person they meet, and drag him in 
for sacrifice. While this season lasts, therefore, it is with 
trembling steps that any one crosses his threshold ; and 
when compelled to do so, he rushes along with the utmost 
speed, avoiding every moment the murderous grasp that 
would consign him to death." Discoveries and Adventures 
in Africa. 

7. Unrestrained indulgence of the passions multiplies the 
woes of the heathen. The horrid passion of revenge has 
turned into an utter desolation rich and populous provinces. 
Disease, the curse of unbridled lust, had made the most 
dreadful havoc on several of the South Sea islands when 
they were first visited by missionaries. Intemperance, an 
importation from Christian countries, has frightfully aug- 



HORRORS OF IIEATHEiMSM. 9 

mented pagan wretchedness. Envy, and jealousy, and mal- 
ice, and remorseless covetousness, contribute also to swell 
the tide which sends its bitter waters through a large por- 
tion of the scenes of social and domestic life. 

8. The miseries of females. Humanity weeps at the 
melancholy picture of their degradation and wretchedness. 
" I would to God," said a South American Indian mother, 
" that my mother by my death had prevented the distresses 
I endure. What kindness can we show to our female chil- 
dren equal to that of relieving them by death from such 
oppression, a thousand times more bitter than death ? I say 
again, would to God my mother had put me under ground 
the moment I was born," Cecil's Miss. Sermon. 

"Hindoo females," says the Abbe Dubois, "are in fact 
used as mere animals. The men regard them as slaves, 
and treat them on all occasions with severity and contempt. 
The object for which an Hindoo marries is not to gain a 
companion to aid him in enduring the ills of life, but a slave 
to bear children and be subservient to his rule." 

"The Chinese peasant," says Malte Brun, "yokes his 
wife and his ass together to his plough." And Mrs. Jud- 
son writes, " So far from receiving those delicate attentions 
which render happy the conjugal state, and which distin- 
guish civilized from heathen countries, the wife receives the 
appellation, mi/ servant, or my doff, and is allowed to par- 
take of what her lordly brutal husband is pleased to give 
her at the conclusion of his own repast." 

9. Savage customs. The system of caste in India is one 
of the greatest scourges which ever afflicted human nature. 
It is repugnant to every feeling of justice and humanity, 
and binds a most grievous burden upon millions of the hu- 
man family. The taboo system of the Pacific islands was a 
kindred work of darkness, inflicting a cruel death upon all 
that broke its absurd enactments. The system of ordeals, 
or trials of accused persons by fire, water, poison, exposure 
to wild beasts, etc., is a perfect mockery of justice, and a 
vast arena of cruelty and misery. 



10 HORRORS OF HEATHENISM. 

10. Anxieties and forebodings respecting a future state. 
The vices and crimes of the heathen are so many and so 
odious, and so contrary to reason and conscience, the law 
written on their hearts so destructive to the body and pol- 
luting to the mind, and their modes of appeasing the Deity 
so utterly and manifestly absurd, that there cannot but be 
apprehensions for the future. It is said of the natives of 
the South Sea islands, that in their dying agonies they would 
often cry to their attendants, " There, there stand the de- 
mons watching for my spirit ! guard its exit ; preserve 
it from their grasp !" We cannot doubt that there are pain- 
ful forebodings in the minds of millions as they contemplate 
the unknown future ; these are whisperings of an immortal- 
ity ; there is conscious guilt, there is consequently anxiety 
and alarm. 

"Their sorrows shall be multiplied that hasten after 
another god." We have given a mere outline, a drop or 
two of a great ocean. The cry of heathen degradation and 
wretchedness is an ''exceeding bitter cry;" it is like the 
voice of many waters ; it calls for the alleviating influence 
of that Gospel whose inviting voice is, " Come unto me, all 
ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." 

VI. PROSPECTS OF THE HEATHEN FOR ETERNITY. 

1. Throughout the Old Testament the character of the 
heathen is described as excessively wicked and most deeply 
offensive to God. He reproves them in the severest lan- 
guage. He warns his people, in every form of solemn ad- 
monition, against following their examples, and punishes 
them with severity when they imitate the heathen. He 
chastises pagan nations in the most terrible manner, assign- 
ing their wickedness as the reason. Witness the utter des- 
olation of Sodom, Babylon, Tyre, Edom, and Moab. These 
terrible facts show that God views heathen abominations 
as inexcusable. They carried their pollutions with them to 
the grave, dying as they lived, leaving not a shadow of rea- 
son for believing their moral characters altered, and conse- 



HORRORS OF HEATHENISM. 1 1 

quently giving melancholy assurance of their having no part 
"in the resurrection of the just." 

2. The New Testament describes in the plainest lan- 
guage the character of those who cannot enter the kingdom 
of heaven. The vices which involve this exclusion are such 
as these: "Idolatry, uncleanness, lasciviousness, hatred, en- 
A"yings, wrath, malice, strife, seditions, covetousness, drunk- 
enness, murders, revelhngs," etc. Those exposed to eternal 
wrath are also designated as " covenant-breakers, inventors 
of evil things, without natural affection, implacable, unmer- 
ciful, whose throat is an open sepulchre, under whose tongues 
is the poison of asps, whose mouth is full of cursing and 
bitterness, whose feet are swift to shed blood, who have no 
fear of God before their eyes." All testimony respecting the 
heathen proclaims that they live and die in just the moral 
condition here described. They do just such things, and 
have pleasure in them that do them. The inference is, that 
they inherit "that wrath which is revealed from heaven." 

3. But we have express declarations upon this point. 
" But unto them that are contentious, and do not obey the 
truth, but obey unrighteousness, indignation and wrath, trib- 
ulation and anguish, upon everj^ soul of man that doeth evil ; 
of the Jew first, and also of the Gentile.'' Romans 2 : 8, 9. 
Thus the heathen are as certainly exposed to perdition as any 
other class of sinners ; no exception is made in their favor. 
Moral character is the ground upon which destiny is settled, 
and a miserable retribution will follow guilt wherever found. 
Again, " For as many as have sinned without law," that is, 
without knowledge of revelation, " shall ^er/sA without law," 
Romans 2 : 12 — not by being judged by the requirements 
of revelation, but for not following the light they did enjoy. 
Nothing can be plainer than that the heathen may sin unto 
perdition, though unenlightened by revelation. 

4. Upon no principle but the one now advocated can we 
account for the conduct of the apostles towards the heathen. 
Their earnest warnings, made "day and night with tears," 
their agonizing prayers, their cheerful endurance of every 



12 HORRORS OF HEATHENISM. 

species of reproach and suffeiing while preaching to the 
heathen, their renunciation of every temporal advantage, 
and their cheerful surrender of life to any horrid form of 
death, rather than abandon their work — all this is plain and 
consistent on the supposition of wrath to come, and incon- 
sistent and inexplicable on any other. They were men full 
of the Holy Ghost. The certainty of sure perdition to im- 
penitent heathen accounts for their conduct. They acted 
like madmen on any other principle. 

5. The position now taken is confirmed by a scriptural 
view of the character of God, and the nature of the heavenly 
world. God is glorious in holiness, and the character, em- 
ployments, and pleasures of the heavenly inhabitants are 
represented as at the farthest possible distance from every 
thing that defileth. With such a God, and in such a heaven, 
can such persons dwell as the Bible describes the heathen 
to be, and as we know them to be ? Can the idolater, the 
reveller, the effeminate, the adulterer, the implacable, the 
unmerciful enter there? But this is the character of the 
heathen ; they carry their abominations to their dying beds, 
and sink in death with all their pollutions upon them. Do 
not the heathen, then, "awake to shame and everlasting 
contempt?" If life, to probation's last hour, be spent in 
guilt and pollution, can we believe it will be succeeded by 
a happy immortality ? 

To the apology, that they worship God according to the 
best of their knowledo-e, and are therefore in no dano-er of 
perdition, I reply, 

1. The word of God expressly denies this alleged igno- 
rance, declaring that the works of nature display such evi- 
dences of the being and attributes of God, that there is no 
palliation of the guilt of idol worship. " For the invisible 
things of him from the creation of the world are clearly 
seen, being understood by the things that are made, even 
his eternal power and Godhead ; so that they are without 
excuse: because that when they knew God, they glorified 
him not as God," etc. Rom. 1 : 20, 21. "Who, knowing 



HORRORS OF HEATHENISM. 13 

the judgment of God, that they which commit such things 
are ivorthy of death, not only do the same, but have pleas- 
ure in them that do them.'^ Rom. 1 : 32. The works of 
nature* pour as much light now upon pagan minds respect- 
ing the character and will of God as they did when these 
passages were written, and the inference of their inexcusa- 
bleness is as just now as it was then. 

2. But facts show their apology has no ground. Twi- 
light is not noonday, but it may, nevertheless, be sufficient 
to show which is the right and which the wrong path. The 
leading principles of the moral law have never yet been 
entirely effaced amid all the darkness and depravity of the 
world. "At a very early age I was employed," confesses 
a distinguished pagan, " by my father to perform various 
offices in an idol temple. I hardly remember the time when 
my mind was not exercised on the folly of idolatry. These 
idols, I thought, were made only by the hand of man, can 
move from one place to another only by man, and, whether 
treated well or ill, are unconscious of either. So affected 
was I once by these considerations, that, instead of placing 
the idols according to custom, I threw them from their ped- 
estals and left them with their faces in the dust." Mission- 
ary Register. 

It cannot be doubted that in the minds of millions there 
is more or less conviction of their folly and wickedness ; but 
as their religious systems give full sway to those passions 
whose indulgence constitutes their chief happiness, they 
willingly stifle conviction, and permit themselves to be borne 
away by the current. 

It is no position of ours, that no iwgan ever gropes his 
way to God. At the same time, with Scripture principles 
before us on the one hand, and the character of the heathen 
on the other, the conviction cannot be resisted, that the great 
body of them ''go away into everlasting punishment." 

Let there be no misapprehension on another point. They 
do not perish for rejecting Christ. How shall they reject 
one of whom thev have never heard ? They are condemned 
VOL. vii]. 3^ 



14 HORRORS OF HEATHENISM. 

for not following the light they do enjoy. Their voluntary 
wickedness, their utter moral unfitness for heaven, and that 
alone, is the ground of their exclusion. 

If any thing can be proved from the word of God, it can 
be proved that the great body of the heathen are not saved. 
This is indeed a startling and awful conclusion ; but it can- 
not be avoided. And it would seem that, in view of such 
facts, all Christendom would be filled with the deepest com- 
passion ; that throughout all its coasts would be heard the 
cry, Let us hasten to the perishing nations with that glorious 
Gospel which is the " wisdom of God and the power of God 
unto salvation." 

Vn. MOTIVES FOR SENDING THE GOSPEL TO THE HEATHEN. 

1. The Gos2yel is the grand and only remedy for their 
wants. It meets them all. It is "a light to lighten the 
Gentiles." It reveals the true character of Jehovah, unfolds 
the way of acceptance through a Mediator, communicates 
all the great truths respecting a coming w^orld needful for 
man to know, explains and enforces the duties of man in the 
present life, and moreover is accompanied, wherever it is 
proclaimed, by those gracious influences of the Holy Ghost 
by which men are " born again," " pass from death unto 
life," are filled with the love of God, are taught to deny 
every worldly lust, to lead lives of humility, meekness, pa- 
tience, and active benevolence, and by which they are qual- 
ified for a holy and happy immortality. And the Gospel is 
the only means by which these glorious results can be accom- 
plished. Its Author's name is the only one under heaven 
given among men, whereby they can be saved. The Gos- 
pel is the light of life ; therefore are we bound to send it 
to every benighted region. 

2. The triumphs it has already ivon urge its 7iniversal 
diffusion. Within thirty years it has driven idolatry from 
more than twenty islands of the sea. " It has so tamed the 
ferocity of numerous savage tribes, that they have beat their 
swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning- 



HORRORS OF HEATHENISM. 15 

hooks. It has broken in pieces some of the most iron- 
hearted despotisms that have ever scourged our race. It 
has erected hundreds of temples to the Hving God, and from 
them is now pouring on the surrounding darkness the glo- 
rious light of truth. It has raised whole communities from 
the most disgusting, brutal, and miserable degradation, to 
intelligence, sobriety, social order, and domestic happiness. 
It has exerted its sanctifying power over thousands, inspir- 
ing hatred of sin and the love and practice of holiness. It 
has furnished the miserable with precious consolations, and 
the dying with triumphant hopes." Labor, therefore, has 
not been spent for naught. Here is a loud appeal to scatter 
the good seed with an unsparing hand. The moral artil- 
lery of the Gospel has never been faithfully used without a 
triumph. Let the sound thereof go out to the ends of the 
world. Let it peal on every human ear. 

3. The facilities with which we are furnished for i)ro8e- 
cuting this work, urge us forward. No age has enjoyed so 
many. Christian enterprise has already lighted the lamp 
of life on the borders of the principal heathen kingdoms. 
From these positions light may be sent in every direction 
through the surrounding darkness. The benevolent heart 
can make its choice in what region of the shadow of death 
it would diffuse the glad tidings. By a thousand channels 
we can pour the waters of salvation on dry and thirsty lands. 
And in such arrangements of Providence is found the earnest 
remonstrance, " Why stand ye here all the day idle ?" 

4. The 2>^'esent attitude of the pagan world powerfully 
appeals to us on their behalf The long slumbers of moral 
death begin to be broken. As here and there a ray of light 
has penetrated the thick darkness, the spirit of inquiry has 
been roused. The superstitions of an hundred generations 
are shaken. They seem sinking under the mighty mass of 
their own corruptions. The mind, so long debased and 
benighted, as if the burden could be endured no longer, is 
looking round for some supply of its immortal wants. The 
glimmerings of the true light have shown the heathen the 



IQ HORRORS OF HEATHENISM. 

frightfvil reality of their own degradation and wretchedness. 
" Come over and help us," is the cry which is waxing louder 
and louder from different regions of the pagan woild. How 
affecting the spectacle of benighted natioife asking for the 
bread of life ! Who can withstand such an appeal ? A most 
solemn responsibility rests upon those who hear it. A mo- 
tive to exertion is thus presented which cannot be resisted 
without deep guilt. Whose heart can refuse the fervent 
prayer ; whose hand deny the generous offering ? 

5. I urge one more motive, and it is an imperative one, 
the last command of our Lord Jesus Christ. He knew the 
darkness, the pollutions, the miseries, and the dangers of the 
heathen. He knew his Gospel was their only remedy. He 
knew, too, all the objections which enmity, imbelief, covet- 
ousness, or lukewarmness could make to its diffusion. But 
he makes no reservation. " Go, preach the Gospel to every 
creature." Traverse every sea ; penetrate every benighted 
island and continent ; preach it in every language ; let every 
creature hear its glad tidings. No evasion is possible ; none 
can be made which would not justify violation of any other 
divine precept. There stands the imperative injunction be- 
fore the eyes of all Christians ; uttered last, that it might 
be remembered longest ; uttered as the closing act of the 
Saviour's mission on earth, that nothing should be wanting 
to its solemnity. And that precept does bind, if divine 
authority can impose obligation, it does bind those who have 
the Gospel, to send it through the world. 

Reader, the claims of the heathen are before you. You 
cannot now refuse them the aid Providence enables you to 
give, and be guiltless of their blood. If you harden your 
heart under the affecting appeals of pagan miseries, " Doth 
not he that pondereth the heart consider it ; and he that 
keepeth thy soul, doth not he know it?" Surrender your 
mind to the influence of Christian benevolence. By fervent 
prayer, by every needed sacrifice of time, and property, and 
influence, bear your part in the blessed enterprise of pour- 
inor the light of salvation on a benio-hted world. 



i¥o. a03, 



ARE YOU READY? 



" What do you mean by this question?''' There is a 
great event before you : its arrival is certain ; but it is ut- 
terly beyond your power to ascertain at what hour it will 
arrive. Ten or twenty years may elapse before its arrival — 
perhaps not as many minutes. Some have expected it long, 
but it still delays. Millions have put it far off, but it has 
burst unexpectedly upon them. This is a most moment- 
ous event. It will sunder all your relations to the present 
world : it will break every tie of mortality — strip off every 
disguise — expose every error and deception — bring out to 
light your whole character, even to every secret thing — pre- 
sent you before a just and holy Judge, and introduce you 
to an unchangeable condition of joy or sorrow. This event 
is DEATH ; and the question is, are you ready to die ?" 

" Who asks this question?'' Your Maker. He does it 
in his word. One of the grand objects of that blessed vol- 
ume is to enable you to give it an affirmative answer. By 
judgments and by mercies does his holy providence press 
this matter upon you. Your own rational nature does the 
same. When reason and conscience are permitted to speak, 
they urge attention to this great concern. Dispel from your 
mind the delusive charms of this world ; press your way out 
of that torreiit of cares or pleasures which sweeps every 
serious thought away ; rebuke every other appeal, and let 
that only be heard which the unblinded reason and the un- 
seared conscience make, and you will perceive that this in- 
quiry is solemnly addressed to you. By your frailty and 
mortality is this question pressed. Nothing can be more 
precarious than your hold on life. Your body is the tie 
that binds you to the earth. How frail a flower ! " The 
wind passeth over it, and it is gone." It is in health and 

VOL. Vlil. 3"^* 



2 ARE YOU READY 1 

vigor to-day ; to-morrow it is lifeless and cold, and full of 
corruption. " The worm is thy sister and thy mother." 
Your frailty therefore cries, Ai'e you ready ? and the voice 
waxes louder and louder with every wasting hour of your 
probation. Eternity seems uttering the same appeal : as if 
with a living voice, it presses every human mind with the 
momentous truth, that beyond the grave man's destiny is 
irreversibly settled ; the righteous are " righteous still," the 
filthy, " filthy still." And it utters the earnest admonition, 
*' Beware of unpreparedness to die." But there is yet an- 
other voice — and, reader, if there be any voice that should 
drown all the appeals of the cares and pleasures of this 
world — which should excite the soul's most intense and de- 
vout attention — which should penetrate its. lowest depths, 
and arouse its strongest emotions — it should be the voice of 
the Redeemer. " Be ye also ready," is his admonition. No 
voice breaks upon human ears in so much tenderness and 
love ; for no friendship has man experienced like that shown 
him by the Son of God, and no voice is so suited to inspire 
solemnity and awe as that of the final Judge. 

" Why ask this question V Because none can be con- 
ceived of so much importance. Because, disturbing men's 
sinful minds as it does, they are not disposed to press it 
honestly and earnestly upon themselves. Because an hon- 
est, serious, enlightened decision of this question may be of 
everlasting benefit to 5^our soul. Because, amid the hurry 
of business or the whirl of pleasure, you ma}?^ at this hour 
need something to lead you to consider your character and 
eternal prospects. Because, if the subject which this ques- 
tion urges upon you is not attended to, the soul will be lost. 

** Why ask me this question ?" Because it respects in- 
terests of yours of infinite value — interests in fearful peril, 
if you cannot answer this question in the afifirmative. Be- 
cause this question is suited to arouse attention to what yoic 
may have totally neglected. Because you may be the very 
person of all living who most needs such an appeal ; being, 
perhaps, the victim of a false hope, or of fatal error, and 
borne farther and farther every day from God by the grow- 



ARE YOU READY? 3 

ing power of sin. Because it is of infinite importance that 
you make a correct decision of this question. And espe- 
cially, because the next bosom pierced by the dart of deatli 
may be your own I 

" Who are not ready?'' Common opinion, in a Gospel 
land, sweeps a large circle, and there stand within it the 
murderer, the thief, the drunkard, the idolater, the profane 
swearer, the adulterer, the scoffer, the liar, and the hypo- 
crite. But the word of God sweeps a larger circle still, in- 
cluding not only those, but these : the covetous, the lewd, 
the lovers of pleasure more than of God, the fraudulent, 
the unmerciful, the formalist, the prayerless, the worldly — 
indeed every soul which has not been ^vashed in the blood 
of Christ, and is not an habitation of the Holy Spirit. Not 
one of all these can give an affirmative answer to the ques- 
tion now urged. Not one of them is ready to die. Death's 
arrival, if they understood their own condition, would fill 
them wath inexpressible consternation. 

''If I am ready — what thenV As this is one of the 
most important decisions mortal man can make — as it in- 
volves interests of infinite value — as a Avrong decision would 
be unspeakably perilous — make it not without the most care- 
ful examination. Spread before you the Holy Scriptures, 
and ponder deeply their descriptions of Christian character. 
Apply the line and plummet to your own heart and life. 
Rest on no man's good opinion. Keep in mind the final 
trial of your case. How solemn, how searching that trial ! 
How momentous the result ! If, after all, you can humbly 
hope you are accepted in Christ, then honor with the warm- 
est zeal, and in every possible manner, the Author and Fin- 
isher of your faith. Let all men see that your hope pmifies, 
and your faith works by love. Let them see that your 
whole character has been cast anew in the mould of the 
Gospel. By every energy you can employ, endeavor to 
make your fellow-men possessors of a like glorious hope. 

'' If I am not ready — lohat then?'' Then you have 
already run a most desperate hazard of losing your soul. 
You could not have said, in any hour of life, the next should 



4 ARE YOU READY 1 

not be your last ; and as you are now unprepared to die, 
you have run as many risks of everlasting ruin as you have 
Hved hours. You have stood on the dizzy height of a most 
frightful precipice ! Your feet had well nigh slipped ! Look 
back : it would seem your heart would grow faint and sick 
at the dreadful peril to which you have been exposed. Your 
not being now ready also implies very great guilt. It im- 
plies insensibility to the most powerful and aflfecting mo- 
tives ; stubborn refusal of a thousand kind and affectionate 
invitations ; contempt of most solemn warnings ; reckless in- 
difterence to the soul's value. I appeal not to vices and 
crimes in proof of sin ; there is evidence enough without 
this to prove you stained with crimson guilt. But if you 
are not ready, there is no work so important, no obligation 
so pressing, as your immediately seeking the favor of God. 
Bid the world retire. Its highest and most pressing claims 
should not impede you for a moment in the great work of 
getting ready to die. 

" But I am in health, in the fulness of my strength, why 
press this matter so earnestly upon me ?" You are just the 
person to be addressed. If you lay upon a dying bed, life's 
lamp expiring, and all your powers sinking into ruin ; if you 
had reached such a point unprepared, had crowded this 
great work into that most unfit hour, there would be scarce 
the slightest prospect that any appeal would avail. 

Once more. The question, Are you ready ? though now 
asked in affectionate earnestness, will not be asked by that 
unrelenting destroyer. Death. He asks no man if he is 
ready. He drives his dart alike through the ready and the 
reluctant soul. Furnished or unfurnished for the world to 
come, it must obey the dreadful summons. Reader, by all 
that is blessed in a death of peace and hope, be entreated 
to regard the solemn expostulation of your Lord : " Be ye 
also ready ; for in such an hour as you think not, the Son 
of man cometh.'^ 



PUBLISHED BY THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 



]¥o. 393. 

ELIZA, 

THE CJIIPPEWAY INDIAN. 




MISSION STATION AT MACKINAW. 

It was in the autumn of 1823 that I met a little Indian 
boy on the island of Mackinaw, and accompanying him home 
to gain permission of his mother to bring him into the mis- 
sion school, I first saw the then wretched woman who forms 
the subject of this narrative. She was about forty-five years 
old. 'Her Indian name was 0-dah-be-tiih-ghe-zhe-go-quai, 
signifying, in English, the Midway-sky- woman, or the place 
of the sun at noon. She was born about three hundred 
miles up the south shore of lake Superior, and was by blood 
of the ChippcAvay tribe. 

Her uncle being a chief, she was chosen, in early life, 
to become interpreter of dreams. The qualifications for 
this honor were to be decided by living ten days in a sepa- 
rate hut, wdthout any other nourishment than a little water 
each night. She faithfully observed the prescribed absti- 
nence, although it nearly cost her life, and- of her own 



2 THE CHIPPEWAY INDIAN. 

accord afterwards fasted nine days more. From this time 
she was considered an extraordinary being. The tribe 
would not permit her to work, but provided her with a 
wigwam of distinction, and she constantly received from 
them the best of their food and clothing. She was also 
furnished with a large otter skin, or medicine sack, stored 
with every article thought to be necessary either for the 
magical cure of the sick, or for interpreting dreams. This 
sack, which she carefully preserved, was her badge of 
honor ; and in all their medicine dances she was greatest 
among the great. On these occasions she took the lead in 
drinking whiskey, till she became excessively intemperate, 
and by the neglect of the Indians and the death of three 
of her children, she was reduced to a state of seclusion and 
poverty. 

She was thus living when I found her little boy and 
accompanied him to her lodge. A wretchedly destitute and 
miserable scene we witnessed. At that time no persuasion 
could induce her to allow her son to join the mission school. 
But going the second time, and the boy himself being will- 
ing, she at length gave her reluctant consent. 

About two years after she began to pay a serious atten- 
tion to religion, but for some time was very fluctuating. 
While under the sound of instruction she would be affected 
sometimes to tears. This was often the case at our adult 
Sabbath- school ; though afterwards, as she says, she would 
throw the subject off, and become, in a measure, indifferent. 
Again, impressed with the idea that there could be no 
mercy for such a creature as herself, and the thought of 
her religious state making her unhappy, she would avoid 
being present at our meetings. Yet, she says, she often 
felt so strong a desire to hear the sound of prayer and sing- 
ing, that she has gone to the door and remained there as 
long as she thought she could without being discovered, 
sometimes till nearly frozen. During most of that winter 
she felt such uneasiness of mind that, not daring herself to 
look to God for mercy, because she was such a sinner, she 
felt it a relief to hear the worship of others ; as if God 



THE CHIPPEWAY INDIAN. 3 

might possibly hear their prayers, though she was unworthy 
to be present. During the spring she was greatly distressed. 
When gathering maple sap she often had thoughts like 
these : " Here I am, going the same round daily from tree 
to tree, and can find no relief; I must always carry this 
wicked heart, and when I die, be miserable for ever." A 
pious Indian woman used to converse with her, and, after 
praying, would ask her if she did not feel the importance 
of joining with her in heart. She said she did ; and though 
there Avas, to her mind, no prospect of ever being better, 
yet she would often feel strong desires for mercy. After 
her return from the sugar camp, she thought that every one 
must look upon her condition as hopeless ; and, as before, 
she often stayed away from divine worship, because she 
thought herself unfit to be there. During the following 
summer she seemed at times to awake to an afl^ecting view 
of her religious state, and with such feelings that she would 
go and pray and weep alone ; but for the most part she 
indulged in despair, and found no relief. 

The next autumn Eliza and her son Joseph were both 
taken ill. The child had profited by the instructions re- 
ceived, and spoke to her much ; but she said she was like 
one who had lost her senses, and nothing seemed to move 
her feelings. Joseph became dangerously ill, and showed 
the influence of religious instruction on his mind in the time 
of affliction. He had a long conversation with her ; he told 
her that he should die soon, and that he wanted her to 
promise him never to drink any more whiskey, to remain 
with the mission family, listen to their instructions, love 
God, and pray every day to him ; then, when she died, she 
would go to God and be with him. At first she told him, 
that if he died she would die too. But Joseph said that was 
wrong; for that God only had a right to call her to die 
when he saw fit. At length she promised him that she 
would remember and do as he had requested. 

During the whole scene of Joseph's death and funeral 
her behavior was singularly calm and solemn ; so much so 
that it was noticed by all. When she perceived that his 



4 THE CHIPPEVVAY INDIAN. 

spirit was really gone, the tears rolled down her face, and 
she exclaimed, in Indian, " My son ! my son !" but further 
than this not a complaint or groan was heard to escape 
her lips. 

After the funeral I sat down with her and had a long 
conversation. Among other things, I asked her why it was 
that she appeared as she now did, and whether it had been 
so at the death of her other children. She said no ; for 
she had, as is common among the Indians, wailed and man- 
gled her body in her affliction. " I have no such feelings 
now — God is good, and I feel that what he has done must 
be right." Although she expressed no consciousness of 
the love of God in her soul, yet she gave evidence that her 
feelings Avere under the sanctifying influence of the Holy 
Spirit. Nor was it long, before, through the mercy of her 
heavenly Father, she began to experience peace and joy in 
believing in Christ. Her soul was also filled with love to 
all the members of the mission family, and she said she 
felt that her own children had never been so near her heart 
as they. At times her mind would recur to the scene of 
her son's death ; but, to use her own expression, literally 
interpreted, " I felt as if I was in a narrow, happy way ; 
and if a thought came to me about Joseph, it seemed like 
beino- drawn out of this way, and I longed to get back im- 
mediately." With these feelings towards God and Chris- 
tians, she now became very anxious for the souls of her 
own people, and said, " 0, if they could only see as I do, 
hoAv happy they would be !" 

When asked about the state of her mind afterwards, she 
said, " I have always been happy in God since then. The 
more I have seen of the love of God in Christ, and the 
loncrer I have lived, the more I have desired to love him, 
and to love him more and more, and to be more and moi-e 
like him in my soul. I do not know that I have since ever 
had any sorrow of soul so great as I have had for those 
who are ignorant of God. Sometimes, when going into 
church, or while there, it has made me weep to think of 
those who do not love God. There has never been anv 



THE CHIPPEWAY INDIAN 5 

day since I found peace to my soul, when I did not feel 
that God was with me. Every Sabbath," she said, " I 
have felt that this leaves me one Sabbath less to be in this 
world, and brings me one Sabbath nearer the time when I 
shall be with Christ," 

About two years since, she was reduced quite low, and 
one evening was thought to be dying ; but expressed joy 
in the prospect of being soon with God. " I long to be 
gone," said she, "I want to have the time come." After- 
wards she felt that she had expressed impatience, and it 
grieved her so that she had several seasons of weeping on 
account of it. 

At another time she had gone to bed, and, as she sup- 
poses, had not slept long, when she awoke and felt a desire 
to pray. She arose and knelt, but in a few moments fell 
asleep on her knees. This occurred again ; but awaking 
the second time, she feared that her love to God was de- 
caying. With tears and a burdened heart she set about 
prayer in earnest ; her soul was so full she could not sleep, 
and she spent the remainder of the night in prayer and joy 
in God, 

I afterwards put several questions to her : " You- said, 
before you found peace in Christ, that for many months 
you felt yourself wretched, and that you often prayed ; 
was it for the merits of these prayers that God gave you 
peace ?" " No, it was because of Christ's pity to my soul; 
because he died for po'or sinners ; and it was of God's 
mercy that missionaries were sent to teach me." *'Do you 
mean that you never have had any fears that you were 
deceived?" "I have always felt sure that God has had 
mercy on my soul ; and the more I have thought on my 
old wicked life, the more it has drawn me near to God ; it 
has made me feel more humble in myself, and a strong- 
desire to hve only for him." " But should God take away 
his Spirit from your heart and leave you to yourself, what 
do you think would become of you ?" " I should be good 
for nothing." " Have you any fears that God will take 
away his Spirit from vour soul?" "No." **Why?" 

VOL. VITI, 39 



6 THE CHIPPEWAY INDIAN. 

''From what I have heard of his word, he has promised 
to keep those that trust in him ; and I believe he is faithful 
to his word," "There have been several times in your 
sickness when you have been very low, and have had rea- 
son to think you should live but a short time ; have you, 
at none of these times, been unwilUng or afraid to die ?" 
*'No." "Have you constantly felt that if it were God's 
will it would be a privilege to die, and you would be glad 
to have the hour come?" "Yes, I have. This fall, when 
I was very sick for two days and nights, and felt that God 
only could make me better or take me away, I thought, if 
it were his will, how glad I should be to be sure that I was 
dying, that I might be with God." "A year ago last 
spring 3'ou were received into the church ; can you tell me 
any thing of your feelings at that time?" "After I un- 
derstood that Christ had commanded it, I had a very strong 
desire to join myself to his people; nor Avas there any 
thing in this world I felt to be so great a privilege. When 
I promised solemnly to be for God, I really felt in my 
heart every word, and that I was now all the Lord's, and 
no more for myself, or for any other. I was happier than 
I can express." " Have your seasons of communion with 
the Lord's people been alwaj^s precious ?" " Yes, every 
one of them. I have heard more of the Saviour, and have 
learned more of his love from the Bible ; I have felt, if 
possible, more and more near to him and happy in him." 
"What good do you think a proTession of rehgion could 
do you without a heart to love the Saviour?" "None; 
there would be no joy to my soul." "Could you have 
this joy and peace of Avhich you have told me, if you did 
not, as far as you know, strive to serve God in all things ^" 
" No, I could not. Though unable to labor with my hands 
for God, it is my sincere desire daily to have my heart 
much in prayer for the salvation of others ; and because 
God lets me live, I believe he wishes me to be devoted in 
spirit to this." " Do you think you love God and souls as 
much as you ought ?" " No, I try to love, but do not feel 
as much as I ought." "When do you e.xpect to have 



THE CHIPPEWAY INDIAN. 7 

perfect love to God and souls?" At first she answered, 
''Never;" thinking that I meant while in the body; but 
afterwards said, " When I get to heaven." 

From this time her bodily powers failed, but she was 
strengthened in the Lord day by day. Her sufferings were 
great ; but she was uniformly patient and happy. It was 
the daily practice for some member of the family to take 
an interpreter and spend some time in reading the Bible 
to her. She frequently spoke of these privileges with ex- 
quisite delight. On one occasion she expressed a fear that 
her faith was growing weak, and requested mef to read 
about EUjah's praying for rain; adding, she had never 
forgot that since she first heard it. The chapter was read, 
and also the last of James. She seemed much strength- 
ened, and often gave her assent while we were reading. I 
asked her what she understood by it, and how it applied to 
her. She answered, " We should pray as earnestly for the 
Spirit as Elijah did for rain, and God would as certainly 
send down a shower of grace." This was on the evening 
of the monthly concert of prayer. I asked her if she knew 
that this night Christians throughout the world were pray- 
ing. She answered, " Yes, I have been thinking of it all 
day, and when I heard the bell ring I knew it and felt 
glad." We then sang a verse, and two of the mission 
children prayed in Indian. It was a precious season, and 
before we closed Eliza seemed to be again on the mount. 

As a member of the family was passing the door that 
led to Eliza's room, she heard her singing in her own 
language, "Heavenly Father, come down and take thy 
wanderer home, for I want to be with thee. how I long 
to be with thee. Come, Lord Jesus, come." 

On Saturday evening, as another entered her room, she 
took her affectionately by the hand, and began to express 
her feelings, but was so much affected that she could not 
proceed. The next day the same individual carried her 
" The Life of Christ." While looking at the plates, she 
discovered much emotion, particularly with the view of 
the Saviour's bearing the cross, and said, He was now near 



8 THE CHIPPEWAY INDIAN. 

her. She then said, " I wish you to know that I did not 
weep 3'esterday for my pain and suffering, but for joy. 
God was very near. I did not rest while he was so near, 
but prayed all the time." To her heathen sister, who was 
sitting by, she then turned and ^id, " You must not Aveep 
for me when I am gone ; I am going to a better country." 

As we were daily expecting her death, I took the little 
girls of the mission to see her. While they were viewing 
her emaciated frame, she faintly said, " Listen to instruc- 
tion — love God, that you may meet me in heaven." 

On the day of her death she repeatedly said, *' I think 
I shall go to-day." In the afternoon she requested that 
the Indian hymn, " And must this body fail," etc., might 
be sung. 

After it was finished one of the missionaries asked if it 
expressed her feelings. She said, " Yes." She was then 
told, if she kept her eyes on Jesus he would not forsake 
her, but go with her through the dark valley. With much 
emphasis she pronounced Bagish, the Indian word for yes, 
and appeared to be filled with the Holy Ghost. She con- 
tinued to fail through the evening. As one went in to bid 
her farewell for the night, she clasped her hand, with eyes 
beaming with pleasure, saying, " I think I shall go to- 
night !" She then bade her a solemn, affectionate, and 
cheerful farewell; and, in allusion to David's words, said 
she "feared no evil." Soon after she became speechless. 
One who was attending her remarked, " You will soon get 
through." She cast her wishful eyes towards heaven, and 
seemed to say, I hope soon to be there ; and about eleven 
in the evening, November, 1830, she died. 

Reader, beware lest, when you meet this benighted 
heathen in the day of judgment, "a ransomed soul,'" you 
be, by your own criminal rejection of Christ, "-yourself 
thrust out.'' 



MARKS OF SAVING FAITH. 



BY REV. JONATHAN DICKINSON, 

FIRST PRESIDENT OF PRrXCETON COLLEGE.. 



That men may doctrinally believe the truth of the Gos- 
pel without a saving faith in Christ, and without an interest 
in him, is a truth clearly taught in the Scriptures, and abun- 
dantly evident from our own experience and observation. 

"What then," you ask, "is the j^lciin distinction between 
a SAVING and a bead faith ?'' I answer, 

1. A trice and saving faith involves a realizing and sen- 
sihle impression of the truth of the Gospel ; whereas a dead 
faith is but a mere speculative belief of it. Faith, as de- 
scribed by the apostle, is " the substance of things hoped 
for, and the evidence of things not seen;" that which brings 
eternal things into a near view, and presents them to the 
soul as realities. Hence the true behever, when he is wea- 
ried out of all his false refuges, emptied of all hope in him- 
self, and brought to see and feel the danger and misery of 
his state by nature, is then brought in earnest to look to 
Jesus, as the only refuge and safety to his soul. He then 
sees the incomparable excellency of a precious Saviour, 
breathes with ardent desire after him, repairs to him as the 
only fountain of hope, and " rejoices in Christ Jesus, having 
no confidence in the fiesh." Now, the blessed Saviour and 
his glorious salvation is the subject of his serious, frequent, 
and delightful contemplation. Now, an interest in Christ is 
valued by him above all the world, and he is in earnest to 
obtain and preserve good evidence that his hope in Christ is 
well founded. He mourns under a sense of his former sins, 
groans under the burden of remaining corruption and imper- 
fection, and with earnest diligence folloAvs after holiness. 

On the other hand, a dead faith often leaves the man 
secure and careless, trifling and indiflferent in the concerns 
VOL. VIII. 39* 



2 MARKS OF SAVING FAITH. 

of the eternal world. These appear to him but distant futu- 
rities, which do not engage his solemn attention, nor give 
any effectual check to his inordinate appetites and passions. 
Or if, as it sometimes happens, any awakening dispensation 
alarms the conscience of such a person, drives him to ex- 
ternal reformation, and makes him more careful and watch- 
ful in his conduct, he has yet no sensible, impressive view 
of the way of salvation by Jesus Christ. He either en- 
deavors to pacify the justice of God and his own conscience 
b}^ his religious performances, and so lulls himself asleep 
again in his former security, or else continues to agonize 
under most dark, dreadful, and unworthy apprehensions of 
the glorious God, as if he were implacable -and irreconcil- 
able to such sinners as himself. Such a person would 
readily acknowledge, but he cannot feel this blessed truth, 
that Christ Jesus is a sufficient Saviour. He allows it to 
be truth, yet he does not humbly and joyfully venture his 
soul and his eternal interest upon it. 

Thus a true faith realizes the great truths of the Gospel 
by a lively and feeling discovery of them, giving the "light 
of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus 
Christ." A false faith gives, but a lifeless and inactive 
assent to these important truths. The one influences the 
heart and affections, and "by beholding with open face, as 
in a glass, the glory of the Lord, changes the soul into the 
same image, from glory to glory." The other only swims 
in the head, and leaves the heart in a state.either of secu- 
rity or despondency. The one is an abiding principle of 
divine life, from which flow rivers of living water ; the other 
is transient and unsteady, and leaves the soul short of any 
spiritual principle of life and activity. 

2. A saving faith cordially embraces the terms of the 
Gospel, while a dead faith is but a cold assent to its truth. 
Accordingly, true faith is in the Gospel described to be a 
receiving of the Lord Jesus Christ. "To as many as 
received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of 
God." Our blessed Redeemer is freely offering himself and 
his saving benefits to poor perishing sinners. Our com- 



MARKS OF SAVING FAITH. 3 

pliance with and acceptance of the gospel offer, are the 
terms of our interest in him. They, therefore, and they 
only, are true believers in Christ, who heartily acquiesce in 
the glorious method of a sinner's recovery from ruin by 
Jesus Christ, and cordially accept an offered Saviour, in ail 
liis offices and benefits. A true believer, convinced of his 
natural blindness and ignorance, repairs to the Lord Jesus 
to enlighten his mind, to make his way plain, and to give 
him a clear and spiritual acquaintance with the great things 
of his eternal peace. The true behever has found, by expe- 
rience, liis utter incapacity to procure the divine favor by 
any reformations or moral performances, and that he has 
cause to be ashamed and confounded in his own sight for 
the great defects of his highest attainments in religion ; and 
therefore welcomes Christ to his soul as the "Lord his 
righteousness ;" repairs to him, and to him only, *'for Avis- 
dom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption ;" and 
builds all his hope of acceptance with God upon what Christ 
has done and suffered for him. The true believer is heavy 
laden with the sinfulness of his nature, and longs for entire 
victory over his corrupt affections, appetites, and passions, 
for pure spirituality in his duties, and for perfection in holi- 
ness, and therefore heartily desires and accepts the Lord 
Jesus as his Sanctijier as well as Saviour, and earnestly 
seeks the renewing, strengthening, and quickening influ- 
ences of his Spirit. The true believer feels the necessity 
of this blessed Saviour in all his offices, relations, and char- 
acters. He sees him to be just such a Saviour as his soul 
wants, and therefore cheerfully accepts a whole Christ with 
his whole heart, without any desire of other terms of ac- 
ceptance with God. He may entertain dark apprehensions 
of himself, and complain heavily of the great defects of his 
faith and holiness, but he can never entertain hard thoughts 
of the ffos2)el scheme, nor complain of the terms of salva- 
tion : these appear to him " the wisdom of God and the 
power of God," and every way suited to the exigencies of 
his state and the desires of his soul. 

But a dead faith never brings the soul to consent to the 



4 MARKS OF SAVING FAITH. 

terms of the Gospel without some exception and reserve. 
The unsound behever may imagine that he accepts the Lord 
Jesus as his Saviour ; but what is the foundation and encour- 
aging motive of his imaginary comphance with the gospel 
oft'er ? Upon an impartial inquiry it will always be found 
to be something in himself: his good affections, duties, mo- 
ralities, reformations, promises, or purposes. He endeavors 
by these to recommend himself to God ; and on account of 
these he hopes to find acceptance through Christ. Or if he 
feels ever so strong a desire of salvation by Christ, yet he 
is driven to it only hy fear and self-love, and will renew his 
affections to his other lords as soon as his awakening appre- 
hensions are worn off. He does not feel his want of Christ's 
enlio^htenino^ and enlivenino- influences, for he knows not 
what they mean. He " submits not to the righteousness of 
Christ ;" for he is still endeavoring to procure acceptance 
with God by some good qualifications of his own, some du- 
ties which he performs, or some progress which he makes, 
or designs to make, in his religious course. He cannot sub- 
mit to Christ as his Lord, for there is some slothful indul- 
gence which he cannot forego, some darling lust which he 
cannot part with, some worldly idol which his heart is set 
upon, or some difficult duty from which he must excuse 
himself. 

There is nothing more apparent than the distinction be- 
tween these two sorts of believers. The one comes to Christ 
destitute of all hope and help in himself, but sees enough 
in Christ to answer all his wants : the other is full in him- 
self. The one looks to Christ to be his light : the other 
leans to his own understanding. The one makes mention 
of Christ's righteousness, and that only : the other hopes 
for an interest in Christ and his salvation on account of his 
own attainments ; and, in effect, expects justification by his 
own righteousness, for Christ's sake. The one brings a 
guilty, polluted, unworthy soul to the blessed Redeemer, 
without any qualification to recommend it, expecting from 
him alone all the supphes he wants — repairing to him for 
" gold tried in the fire, that he may be rich ; for eye-salve, 



MARKS OF SAVING FAITH 5 

that he may see ; and for white raiment, that he may be 
clothed :" the other ordinarily raises his expectations from 
Christ in proportion to his. own imaginary qualifications and 
good disposition. The one desires salvation by Christ from 
pollution as well as from guilt : the other has a reserve of 
some deceitful lust, and hugs some Delilah in his bosom which 
he cannot be willing to part with. In fine, the one is willing 
to accept of the Lord Jesus Christ upon any terms : the other 
will not come to Christ but upon terms of his own stating. 
3. A saving faith is an humble trust in Christ, as the 
author of our salvation ; but a dead faith always builds 
upon %OTiiQ false foundation, or upon none at all. A saving 
faith is often described in Scripture by a "trusting in the 
Lord, committing our way to him, resting on him," and such 
like expressions, which suppose an humble confidence in the 
abundant sufficiency of the Redeemer's merits, and the 
boundless riches of God's mercy in him. Accordingly, the 
true believer, in his greatest darkness and discouragement, 
ventures his soul and eternal interests in the hands of Christ. 
His past sins may appear in most frightful forms, vastly 
numerous, dreadfully aggravated ; still, he humbly trusts 
that " the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin." He 
may be oppressed with the sense of the defects of his duties 
and religious attainments, but he yet sees righteousness 
enough in Christ for a safe foundation of confidence. This, 
and this alone, keeps his soul from sinking, answers the 
clamors of conscience, and disposes him to rely upon the free 
grace and mercy of God. He may be distressed with the 
prevalence of his inward corruptions ; he may, in an un- 
guarded hour, be surprised and foiled by the power of his 
sinful appetites or passions, or by some unexpected tempta- 
tion ; but, even in this case, his refuge is in that blessed 
"Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.'* 
And though, from sad experience of his own dreadful im- 
perfections, he may be ready to question his state, and to 
fear lest he be deceived, he ventures that also in the hands 
of Christ, and depends upon him, that he will not leave him 
to a soul-ruining deceit, but will "guide him by his counsel. 



6 MARKS OF SAVING FAITH. 

and afterwards receive him to glor3^" Such a dependence 
upon Christ the behever ordinarily exercises in his darkest 
hours. But when he is in the more lively exercise of grace, 
he " knows whom he has believed, and that he is able to 
keep that which he has committed to him against that day." 
With this confidence, he can even " glory in tribulation ;" 
he can cheerfully look death itself in the face, and triumph 
over the king of terrors. 

On the contrar}^, the false believe?' ordinarily raises his 
expectations and encouragements from something i7i himself. 
His good frames, his joys and comforts, his endeavors or 
designs to serve God, are what he has to depend upon ; and 
upon these he does and will depend, and perhaps will never 
see his mistake until it be too late. Some of these, indeed, 
do not find even this false foundation to build upon, but 
quiet their souls with a loose and general hope. They be- 
lieve that God is merciful, and that Jesus Christ came to 
save sinners ; or they hope they shall some time or other 
obtain grace, though they find none at present. Thus many 
go on quietly in their sins, dwell at ease, and cry ^jewce to 
their souls, until the flood of God's displeasure sweeps away 
tlieir refuges of lies. Others there are who, by means of a 
better education, or from some awakening sense of guilt and 
danger, cannot but see that these beds are too short to 
stretch themselves upon, and therefore their faith is their 
torment. They believe in Christ as their Judge, but not as 
their Saviour. They are harassed with fear and anxiety 
whenever conscience is awake to any serious apprehension 
of a future world. Thus they live under a " spirit of bond- 
age," never venturing their souls upon the pardoning mercy 
of God and the infinite merit of the Redeemer's blood. 

Nothing can be more apparent than the difference be- 
tween these two sorts of believers. The one, in all his straits, 
fears, difficulties, and dangers, looks to Christ as to a sure 
foundation of safety, confidence, and hope ; and though he 
may at some times doubt his interest in him, he can at no 
time deliberately place his confidence, or expect safety for 
his soul anywhere else. The other leaves the soul asleep, 



MARKS OF SAVING FAITH. 7 

or else seeks rest only from the righteousness of the law, 
from desires and endeavors of his own, and must either find 
comfort there, or nowhere. The one ventures all his inter- 
ests, and all his hopes of grace and glory, upon the faithful- 
ness of the gospel promises and the infinite mercy of God 
in Christ. The other sees not how to quiet the accusations 
of his conscience, and obtain qualifications for salvation, by 
depending upon a naked promise. In a word, the one can 
see safety and security in leaving all the concerns both of 
time and eternity in the hands of Christ. The other, being 
iofnorant of the rio-hteousness of Christ, must make the 
righteousness of the law his refuge, or else live without hope. 

4. A. saving isiith. subjects the soul to Christ ; but a dead 
faith leaves the soul unrenewed and disobedient. A true 
" faith purifies the heart " and "overcomes the world ;" and 
"he that hath this hope" in Christ "purifieth himself, even 
as he is pure." A true faith unites the soul to Christ, as the 
branch is united to the vine, and thereby enables the man 
to bring forth much fruit. The true believer hates every 
false way ; he mourns over, and watches, strives, and prays 
against all the corruptions of his nature, and all the imper- 
fections of his heart and life. There is no known sin which 
he indulges himself in ; no known duty which he willingly 
neglects ; no difficulty which can deter him from following 
Christ ; no temptation which can allure him from endeavor- 
ing a conformity to the whole will of God. " Not as though 
he had already attained, or were already perfect." He has 
daily cause to lament his defects, but yet he can truly say 
that " he delights in the law of the Lord after the inward 
man ;" and accordingly endeavors, in every station and re- 
lation, in all his conduct, both to God and man, as well in 
secret as openly, to live a life of conformity to God in all 
the duties he requires of hira. 

But, on the other hand, the seeming obedience of ?i false 
believer is very partial, defective, temporary, and but a matter 
of force and constraint upon the appetites and affections. 
If, with Herod, he reforms, and "does many things," yet 
he retains some darlincr corruption unmortified. or leaves 



8 MARKS OF SAVING FAITH. 

some duty neglected. Or if, by the lashes of an awakened 
conscience, he is driven for a time to a more general refor- 
mation from all known sin, and to outward attendance upon 
all known duty, he finds no inward complacency in it, and 
therefore is like a dull horse, that will be kept on his way 
no longer than he feels a spur in his side. 

Here, then, is a conspicuous difference between a true 
and false believer. The one has a principle of holiness, a 
delight in it, and an earnest and continuing desire after 
further proficiency in the divine life. The other aims only 
at so much holiness as he thinks will save him from hell, 
but cares for nothing more ; and what he has is excited hj 
fear or constrained by force, contrary to the real tendency 
and bias of his soul. In fine, the one makes it the endeavor 
of his life to approve himself to a pure, holy, and omnis- 
cient God. The other rests in endeavors to quiet conscience 
and silence its clamors. 

5. A saving faith works by love to God and man ; but 
a dead faith always falls short of both. The apostle assures 
us, that "if we have all faith, so that we could remove 
mountains, and have not charity, (or love,) we are nothing. 
Faith worketh by love ;" and the true believer " keeps him- 
self in the love of God, looking to the mercy of the Lord 
Jesus Christ for eternal life." He delights in contemplating 
the perfections of the divine nature. His meditations upon 
God are sweet, and the thoughts of him precious to his soul. 
If he can have the glorious God for his portion, and live in 
the light of his countenance, he can be content with straits 
and difficulties, trials and aflflictions. He takes peculiar 
pleasure in the ordinances of God, and all the appointed 
means of a near approach into his special presence ; and 
often enjoys sensible communion with hiai. He heavily 
complains of his own deadness or worldliness, which sepa- 
rates between God and his soul, and can find no true rest 
or satisfaction till he returns to him. This is the ordinary 
course and tenor of the believer's life ; and if at any time he 
grow foi'getful of God, and have the prevalence of a dead, 
carnal, worldlv frame in his soul, this darkens the evidence 



MARKS OF SAVING FAITH. 9 

of his state, robs him of comfort and peace, and will at length 
put him upon vigorous and active endeavors for obtaining 
a revival of his languishing graces, by a fresh supply of the 
spirit of Jesus Christ. Thus the true believer has the love 
of God dwelling in him. 

And from the same principle he likewise loves his neigh- 
hor as himself. He maintains a life of justice, meekness, 
kindness, and beneficence towards all men, bears injuries, is 
ready to forgive, entertains the best opinion of men's states 
and actions that the case will allow, and endeavors to live in 
the exercise of " love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, 
goodness, faith, meekness." And as he thus maintains a 
love of benevolence to all men, he has, in a special manner, 
a love of complacence towards those who bear marks of the 
divine image. These he delights in, because the children 
of God. He loves them for their heavenly Father's sake, 
as well as for those gracious qualifications which make *' the 
righteous more excellent than his neighbor." He loves the 
company of the saints : these are " the excellent in whom 
is all his delight." He loves their piety, and studies an 
imitation of them wherein they follow Christ ; and studies 
to equal, if not excel them in their highest improvements 
in religion. He loves their persons, and hopes to join in 
concert with them in the eternal praises of God. 

The highest attainments of a dead faith fall short of every 
part of this description. The false believer may imagine 
that he has something of love to God in him ; but, upon a 
just view, it will appear that it is only to an idol, the crea- 
ture of his own imagination. If he seems to love God 
under an apprehension of his goodness and mercy, he yet 
dreads him on account of his justice, and has an inward 
aversion to his purity and holiness ; so that the object of his 
love is an imaginary being of infinite mercy, without either 
justice or holiness. If, from the alarms of conscience or the 
emotions of his natural affections, he takes some pleasure in 
religious exercises, this pleasure is short and transient, like 
the principle whence it flows ; he soon sinks into careless- 
ness and forgetfulness of God, and has his affections quickly 

VOL. VIII. 40 



10 MARKS OF SAVING FAITH. 

engaged in worldly and sensual pursuits. And however he 
may deceive himself in any supposed progress in religion, 
he can never satisfy his soul with having God for his por- 
tion. He can never, of course, keep up a life of spiritual- 
mindedness and delight in God. 

The same defects are likewise found in the unsound be- 
liever with respect to his love to his neighbor. If he be not, 
as is too commonly found, unjust and deceitful, wrathful 
and contentious, hard-hearted and unkind, bitter and cen- 
sorious, revengeful and implacable, yet he never loves the 
children of God as such. Whatever love he may have to 
any such from intimate acquaintance, or from their being in 
the same cause, party, or persuasion with himself, which is, 
indeed, no more than the exercise of selfishness, he never 
loves the image of Christ in every sect or party in whom he 
finds it, nor can he love a conformity to the children of God 
in the holiness of their hearts and lives. 

Here, then, you see a difference in these two kinds of be- 
lievers. The one loves God above all things; and, indeed, 
he that does not love him with a supreme love, does not 
love him as God, and consequently does not love him at all. 
But the other seeks the favor of God from no other motive 
but fear of his displeasure, or some desire of happiness, and 
not from a sense of the excellency of his glorious perfections. 
The one loves w^hat God loves, hates what he hates, and is 
satisfied with himself only in proportion to his conformity to 
God. The other retains his delight in his lusts and idols, 
and repairs to God because he dare not do otherwise. The 
one, like God himself, takes pleasure in doing good to all 
men ; and takes special delight in all, without distinction, 
w^ho are partakers of the divine nature. The other, at the 
best, has his love to man influenced by selfish principles. 

6. A saving faith humbles the soul, and makes it loio and 
vile in its own eyes ; whereas a dead faith tends to exalt the 
mind with vain apprehensions of some sufficiency or excel- 
lence of its own. The true believer has a deep sense of the 
greatness and aggravation of his sins, loathes himself on 
account of them, and adores the louff-suffprincr of God to- 



- MARKS OF SAVING FAITH. H 

wards him, that has kept him out of hell. He is so sensi- 
ble of the great defects of his duties, of the sinfulness of his 
heart, the imperfections of his life, and his utter unworthi- 
ness of any favor from God, that he cannot but entertain a 
most deep and sensible impression that it must be a Avonder- 
ful display of mere sovereign grace if he obtains salvation. 
It is always true, that the greater manifestation of God's love 
is made to his soul, the greater sense he has of his own 
nothingness and unworthiness, and the more he admires and 
adores the astonishing riches of free distinguishing grace 
to such a guilty, polluted creature as he is. Though the 
true behever lives in the exercise of that charity towards 
others which " thinketh no evil, but belie veth all things, and 
hopeth all things ;" he yet always finds occasion to condemn 
himself, and to censure his own inward affections and out- 
ward performances, religious duties and moral conduct, and 
therefore cannot but esteem others better than himself. He 
finds occasion of renewed repentance every day : he every 
day finds new cause to complain of himself, and new cause 
to commit a sinful and unworthy soul to the mere mercy of 
God in Christ. 

On the contrary, a dead faith always either /»?/^5 up the 
Viind with a haughty, pleasing apprehension of its own at- 
tainments, makes it censorious and uncharitable, and inspires 
it with that proud pharisaical language, " I thank God, I 
am not as other men ;" or else, from the same haughty 
principle, either leaves the soul secure and easy in its good 
designs and purposes of future repentance, or impatient and 
desponding, through want of those good qualifications which 
it supposes necessary. 

And now to sum up the whole in a short and easy view. 
If you have good evidence of a saving faith in Christ, you 
must have such a sensible impression of the truth of the 
Gospel as makes you feel the importance of your eternal 
concerns, and your necessity of an interest in Christ, and 
puts your soul upon earnest and active desires after him, as 
your only hope and safety. You must heartily approve the 
way of salvation Avhich the Gospel reveals, and heartily con- 



12 MARKS OF SAVING FAITH. 

sent to the terms on which it is offered. You must accept 
of Christ as a free gift, bringing nothing with you of your 
own to recommend you to his acceptance. You must accept 
him as your only righteousness to justify you before God, 
and as your Prince as well as Saviour, consenting as Avell 
to be governed as to be saved, to be sanctified as to be 
justified by him. And as you must receive him, so you 
must confidently trust in him alone, as a sure foundation of 
safety and hope, and as a continuing fountain of all supplies 
of grace to your soul, whatever difficulties and discourage- 
ments you may meet with. And you must have this stand- 
ing evidence of the sincerity of your faith, that it purifies 
your heart, and brings you to an earnest endeavor after 
habitual holiness of heart and life ; that it works by love to 
God and man, and keeps up in your soul at the same time 
an abasing sense of your own vileness and utter unworthiness. 
This is that precious faith to which alone the promises of 
the Gospel are made. 

To conclude with a still shorter view. When a realizing 
belief of the Gospel, and a despair of all help in yourself, 
brings you to repair to Christ as your only safety, and to 
venture your soul, guilty as it is, upon the merit of his obe- 
dience, the sufficiency of his grace and strength, and the 
faithfulness of his promises, and heartily to submit to his 
rule and government, you cannot fail of the sanctifying in- 
fluences of his Spirit to qualify you for the eternal inherit- 
ance ; for " the Amen, the faithful and true Witness," has 
given you his word for it, that if you thus '' come to him, 
he will in nowise cast you out." 

I might sum up this important point in a yet shorter 
view. If you so heartily approve of and delight in the gos- 
pel way of salvation by Christ alone, that you can cheerfully 
venture your soul and your eternal interests upon it, as the 
sure and only foundation of hope and safety, you have then 
true faith. And in this case, he that has bestowed such 
grace upon you, will carry on his own work in your soul, 
and will at last present you faultless before his throne, with 
exceeding joy. 



i\o. 393, 

MARKS 



TRUE REPEITAICE. 



BY REV. JONATHAN DICKINSON^ 

FIRST PRESIDENT OF PRINCETON COLLEGE. 



You ask the distinction between a legal and an evangel- 
ical repentance. To give a clear view of the subject, I will 
first name some particulars wherein the distinction does not 
consist. 

A deep distress of mind on account of sinning against 
God, is common both to legal and evangelical repentance. 
Even Judas could cry out with agony of soul, '* I have sin- 
ned in betraying innocent blood ;" as well as the Psalmist 
groan out his complaint, that there was ''no rest in his 
bones because of his sins." 

A. fearful apprehension of the divine displeasure may be 
common to both sorts of penitents. Mere legal convictions 
may make "sinners in Zion afraid, and fearfulness surprise 
the hypocrite ;" and " destruction from God may be a ter- 
ror" to a holy Job, in as great reality, though not with 
such despairing infidelity, as to a Cain or Judas. 

Dread of outward and known courses of sinning, and a 
temporary reformation from them, may likewise be the con- 
sequence of both a legal and evangelical repentance. Ahab 
humbled himself, lay in sackcloth, and went softly; and 
Herod reformed many things, as well as David " refrained 
VOL. VIII. 40*^ 



2 MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. 

his feet from every evil way." It is impossible for a sinner 
to giv€ the reins to his lusts while under the lashes of an 
awakened conscience ; a mere legal conviction must, while 
it lasts, produce an external reformation. 

Men may be brought to diligence and activity in external 
duty, by both a legal and evangelical repentance. An in- 
sincere repentance may bring men, with the hypocritical 
Jews, to " seek the Lord daily ;" as true repentance always 
brings men *' to lift up their hearts and their hands to God 
in the heavens." 

A comforting persuasion of having obtained pardoning 
mercy is common to both kinds of penitents. God's ancient 
people, when most incorrigible in their impiety, would 
"trust in lying words, come and stand before him in the 
house that was called by his name, and say, We are deliv- 
ered to do all these abominations." The Israelites in the 
wilderness concluded that " God was their rock, and the 
most high God their Redeemer, when they flattered him 
with their lips, and lied to him with their tongues, and their 
hearts were not right with him." And on the other hand, 
the true penitent may say with David, '* I said, I will con- 
fess my transgressions unto the Lord ; and thou forgavest 
me the iniquity of my sins." 

In short, it is not the deepest sense of sin or guilt, nor 
the most distressing sorrow on that account ; it is not the 
fear of God's wrath, nor the greatest external reformation 
of life ; it is not the most diligent external attendance upon 
duty, nor the most quieting persuasion of having made our 
peace with God, nor all these together, that will prove a 
man sincerely penitent ; for all these may be, and have 
been attained by mere hypocrites, and often are found 
with the false as well as the true professor. 



MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. J 

Having, by way of precaution, made these remarks, I 
now proceed directly to consider the distinction between 

LEGAL AND EVANGELICAL REPENTANCE. 

1. A le^al repentance flows only from a sense of danger 
and fear of lorath ; but evangelical repentance is a true 
mourning for sin, and earnest desire of deliverance from it. 

When the conscience of a sinner is alarmed with a sense 
of his dreadful guilt and danger, it must necessarily remon- 
strate against those impieties which threaten him with ruin. 
Hence those frights and terrors which we so commonly see 
in awakened sinners. Their sins, especially some grosser 
enormities of their lives, stare them in the face, with their 
peculiar aggravations. They are brought upon their knees 
before God to acknowledge their sins, and to cry for mercy ; 
and now conscience, like a flaming sword, perhaps keeps 
them from their former course of impiety. And what is all 
this repentance, but mere terror and fear of hell? It is 
true, the law sometimes proves a schoolmaster to drive sin- 
ners to Christ ; and conviction of sin, and a legal repent- 
ance, are a necessary preparative to a saving conversion ; 
but these alone give no claim to the promise of the Gospel. 
The house may be thus empty, swept, and garnished but 
for the reception of seven worse spirits than were driven 
out of it; and a sinner may thus " escape the pollutions of 
the world," and yet have "his latter end worse than the 
beginning." 

If, on the other hand, we consider the character of a 
sincere gosi^el repentance, though such legal terrors may 
lead to its exercise, they do not belong to its nature ; nor 
are they any part of it. Sin itself becomes the greatest 
burden and aversion to a truly penitent soul. "I hate," 
says the psalmist, ** every false way." "0 wretched man 



4 MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. 

that I am!" says the apostle, ''who shall deliver me from 
the body of this death?" Thus the penitent groans, being 
burdened ; not for fear of hell, such fear being no part of 
true repentance, though it may sometimes accompany it, 
but from an affecting, humbling sense of sin. His language 
is, "I acknowledge my transgressions, and my sin is ever 
before me. Mine iniquities are gone over my head ; as a 
heavy burden they are too heavy for me. Deliver me from 
all my transgressions. Let not my sins have dominion over 
me. Innumerable evils have compassed me about: mine 
iniquities have taken hold upon me, so that I am not able 
to look up ; they are more than the hairs of my head ; 
therefore my heart faileth me. Be pleased, Lord, to 
dehver me : O Lord, make haste to help me." As the true 
penitent longs for more and more victory over his corrup- 
tions, so is he most watchful, prayerful, and in earnest to 
mortify his lusts, and to cut off all supplies of sin. There 
is nothing so grievous to him as sin, and nothing which he 
so earnestly desires as a nearer approach to that blessed 
state, w^here '' nothing can enter which defileth or worketh 
abomination." 

Here you see the difference between being driven from a 
course of sinning by the lashes of an awakened conscience, 
and loathing ourselves in our own sight, for all our iniqui- 
ties and abominations. The former is merely the fruit of 
self-love, which prompts the soul to fly from danger: the 
latter is the exercise of a vital principle, which separates the 
soul from sin, and engages the whole man in a continued 
opposition to it. 

2. A legal repentance flows from imhelief; but an evan- 
gelical repentance is the fruit of saving faith. 

I have shown that a legal repentance is effected by fear- 



MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. 5 

ful apprehensions of hell. And whence this fear and ter- 
ror? Has not the Gospel provided a glorious relief for 
such distresses, and opened a blessed door of hope for the 
greatest sinners ? Is not pardon and salvation freely oflfered 
to all that will accept a blessed Saviour and his saving ben- 
efits ? Is not the blood of Christ sufficient to cleanse from 
all sin, however aggravated ? Why then do they not cheer- 
fully fly for refuge to this hope set before them ? Alas, 
they can see no safety in it ! The law of God condemns 
their disobedience ; conscience joins it, and hence their only 
refuge is resolutions, reformations, duties, penance, or some 
such self-righteous methods, to pacify God's justice and 
^uiet conscience. The defect of their endeavors and attain- 
ments creates new terrors ; their terrors excite new endeav- 
ors; and thus they go on, without ''attaining to the law of 
righteousness, because they seek it not of faith, but as it 
were by the works of the law." They may, it is true, have 
some respect to Christ, in this their legal progress. They 
may hope that God will accept them for Christ's sake. 
They may use his name in their prayers for pardon, while 
they dare not depend upon the merits of his blood for the 
remission of their sins, and a freedom from condemnation. 
And what is all this but a secret hope that the redemption 
of Christ will add such merit to their frights and fears, 
reformations and duties, as to make them atone for their 
sins, and purchase the favor of God ? So that all their 
penitential appearances are nothing but the workings of 
unbelief. 

The true -penitent approaches God's presence with a 
deep impression of his guilt and umvorthiness, and of his 
just desert of an eternal rejection from God. But then he 
comes before a mercy-seat. Though he is forced to acknow- 



6 MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. 

ledge that if God should mark iniquity he could not stand 
before him, he yet remembers that "with God there is 
forgiveness, that he may be feared;" and "that with him 
there is plenteous redemption." He looks to the blood of 
Christ as what alone can cleanse away his numerous and 
aggravated sins, and from thence he takes encouragement 
to mourn out the psalmist's language, "Wash me thor- 
oughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. 
Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean ; wash me, and 
I shall be whiter than the snow." This is the prospect 
which both encourages and invigorates his cries for mercy, 
and imbitters his sins to him ; and which makes him loathe 
them all, and long for dehverance from them all. " Is God 
infinitely merciful and ready to forgive," says the penitent 
soul, "and have I been so basely ungrateful as to sin 
against such astonishing goodness, to affront and abuse such 
mercy and love ! Is sin so hateful to God, that his own 
dear Son must die ? How vile, how polluted and abomin- 
able must I then appear in the eyes of his holiness and 
justice, that am nothing but defilement and guilt, from the 
crown of my head to the soles of my feet — ^nothing but 
wounds, and bruises, and putrefying sores ! Has the blessed 
Saviour suffered his Father's wrath for my sins ? Have 
they nailed him to the cross, and brought him under the 
agonies of an accursed death ; and shall I be ever recon- 
ciled to my lusts any more, and go on to crucify the Son of 
God afresh ? May I obtain strength from the Lord Jesus 
Christ for victory over my corruptions ; and shall I not 
both resolve in his strength against them, and lie at his feet, 
that ' the law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus may make 
me free from the law of sin and death ?* Have I dishon- 
ored God so much already, loaded my precious Saviour 



MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. 7 

with so many indignities, and brought sucli a weight of 
guilt upon myself ; and is it not now high time to bid an 
utter defiance to my most darling lusts, the greatest ene- 
mies to God and my own soul ?" Such is the language of 
a gospel repentance. 

You cannot but see the great distinction, and even con- 
trariety, between a guilty flight of soul from God, like 
Adam after his fall, and an humbhnor self-condemnino^ flio-ht 
to God's pardoning mercy, like the prodigal, when return- 
ing to his Father's house ; between legal, slavish, self- 
righteous endeavors to atone for our sins and make our 
peace with God, and repairing only to the blood of Christ 
for cleansing from all sin ; between mourning for our guilt 
and danger, and mourning for our sins, as they are against 
God, against a precious Saviour, against infinite mercy and 
love ; and, in a word, between attempting a new life by 
the strength of our own resolutions and endeavors, and 
looking only to the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ for 
grace and strength, as well as pardon and freedom from 
condemnation. 

3. A legal repentance flows from an aversion to God and 
his holy law ; but evangelical repentance from love to both. 

The distress, the terror and amazement that awakened 
sinners are under, arise from their dreadful apprehensions of 
God and his terrible justice. They know they have greatly 
provoked him, and are afraid of his wrath ; and therefore 
want some covert, where they may hide themselves from 
his presence. They might before, perhaps, have some 
pleasing apprehensions of God, while they considered him 
as being all mercy without justice ; and while they could 
hope for pardon, and yet live in their sins. But, now they 
have some sense of his holiness and justice, he appears an 



8 MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. 

infinite enemy, and therefore most terrible to their souls. 
They are consulting, indeed, some way to be at peace with 
him, because they are afraid the controversy will issue in 
their destruction. They resolve upon new obedience, from 
the same motives that slaves obey their severe, tyrannical 
masters ; while the rule of their obedience is directly con- 
trary to the bent, bias, and disposition of their souls. Were 
the penalty of the law taken away, their aversion to it 
would quickly appear, and they would soon embrace their 
beloved lusts with the same pleasure and delight as former- 
ly. This is frequently exemplified in those who wear off 
their convictions and reformations together, and notwith- 
standing all their former religious appearances, discover the 
alienation of their hearts to God and his law by their sinful 
lives, and, as the apostle expresses it, show themselves 
*' enemies in their minds, by wicked works." 

But, on the contrary, the sincere gospel penitent sees an 
admirable beauty and excellency in a life of holiness, and 
therefore groans after higher attainments in it. He is sen- 
sible how much he has transgressed the law of God, how 
very far he is departed from the purity and holiness of the 
divine nature. This is the burden of his soul. Hence it is 
that he often walks in heaviness, and waters his couch with 
tears. He mourns, not because the law is so strict, or the 
penalty so severe, for he esteems " the law to be holy, and 
the commandment holy, just, and good ;" but he mourns, 
that though *' the law be spiritual," he is " carnal, sold un- 
der sin." He mourns, that his nature is so contrary to God, 
that his practice is so contrary to his will, and that he can 
make no better progress in mortifying the deeds of the flesh, 
in regulating his affections, appetites, and passions, and in 
living to God. He breathes with the same earnestness after 



MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. 9 

sanctification, as after freedom from wrath. He does not 
want to have the law bend to his corruptions, but to have 
his heart and hfe fully subjected to the law and will of God. 
There is nothing he so much desires as freedom from sin, 
proficiency in faith and holiness, and a life of fellowship with 
God. "O," says the penitent believer, "what a wicked 
heart have I, that is so estranged from the holy nature of 
God, and from his righteous law ! What a guilty w^retch 
have I been, who have walked so contrary to the glorious 
God, have trampled upon his excellent perfections, violated 
his holy law, and made so near an approach even to the 
nature of the devil ! ■ O for the cleansing efficacy of the 
blood of Christ, and the renewing influences of his Holy 
Spirit, to purify this sink of pollution, and to sanctify these 
depraved aff"ections of my soul. ' Create in me a clean 
heart, God, and renew a right spirit within me.' Let me 
be a partaker of the divine nature, and be brought near to 
God, whatever else be denied me. ' that my ways were 
directed to keep thy statutes.' " Such are the aspirations 
of sincere repentance. 

Thus the legal penitent looks upon God with dread, ter- 
ror, and aversion of soul : the evangelical penitent mourns 
his distance from him, and longs to be more transformed 
into his image. The one still loves his sins, in his heart, 
though he mourns that there is a law to punish them ; the 
other hates all his sins without reserve, and groans under 
the burden of them, because they are contrary to God and 
his holy law. The obedience of the one is by mere con- 
straint ; the imperfections of the other are matter of con- 
tinual grief, and he is constantly longing and striving after 
greater degrees of grace and holiness. The one can find no 
inward and abiding cpmplacency in the service of God ; th^ 

VOL. YITI. 41 



10 MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. 

other runs in the way of his commandments with dehght, 
and takes more pleasure in obedience than in any thing else. 

4. A legal repentance ordinarily flows from discourage- 
ment and despondency ; but an evangelical repentance is ac- 
companied with a confiding trust in God^s mercy. 

I have already considered how a legal repentance is 
excited and maintained by terrors of conscience and fearful 
apprehensions of the wrath of God. Some, indeed, by their 
external reformations, pacify conscience, and cry peace to 
their souls ; but while their concern continues, their de- 
sponding fears are the very life of it. They are afraid that 
God will never pardon and accept svich rebels as they have 
been ; and though they dare not neglect duty, they come 
with horror into the presence of God, as to an inexorable 
judge ; and have nothing to keep their souls from sinking 
into despair but their good designs and endeavors, which 
yet are too defective to give them comfortable hope. And 
what is all this but a most unorrateful undervaluinof the 
blood of Christ, limiting the goodness and mercy of God, 
and an implicit denying the truth of the whole Gospel of 
God our Saviour ? 

On the other hand, though the true gospel penitent may 
have a deeper impression of the greatness of his guilt than 
even the awakened, terrified legalist himself, yet he dare not 
despair of God's mercy. A fear and jealousy of our own 
sincerity may be consistent with true repentance, and per- 
haps sometimes serve to further its progress ; yet all doubts 
of the faithfulness of the gospel promises, of the extensive- 
ness of the divine mercy, and fears of our exclusion from 
the gospel offer ; all apprehensions of our not being elected, 
of our having sinned away the day of grace, or sinned 
against the Holy Ghost ; and all imaginations that our sins 



MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. H 

are so circumstanced as not to admit of pardoning mercy, 
are inconsistent with the actings of a true repentance. A 
sincere penitent looks over the highest mountains which are 
raised before him by the greatness of his sins, his own mis- 
giving heart, or the temptations of Satan, into an ocean of 
infinite goodness and mercy. Thither he will fly, and there 
he will hope, let his case appear ever so dark, and though 
every thing seems to make against him. And the more 
lively and comfortable his hope is, the more he is humbled 
and abased for his sins, and the more vigorous are his en- 
deavors after a life of new obedience. 

" I confess," says the truly penitent soul, "that my sins 
are like the stars of the firmament, and like the sand on the 
sea-shore, for multitude ; that they are of a scarlet and 
crimson dye ; and that it is of the infinite patience of God 
that such a guilty wretch is out of hell. But yet, great 
and dreadfully aggravated as are my sins, the merit of a 
Redeemer's blood is sufficient to atone for them all ; and 
infinite mercy is still greater than my greatest sins. I will, 
therefore, cast my guilty soul at the footstool of a sovereign 
God, and rely on infinite mercy through a Redeemer. I will 
depend upon the blood of Christ, which cleanseth from all 
sin. O how will mercy triumph over such sins as mine. 
How great glory will God bring to the riches of his infinite 
grace, in the salvation of such a sinner as I, if ever I am 
saved. How will heaven ring with eternal hallelujahs on 
my account. Surely, I have sinned enough already. Let 
me no more add to the number and guilt of my sins, by 
distrust of God's mercy, or by doubting the sincerity of his 
invitations. 

5. A legal repentance is teinporary, wearing off with the 
convictions of conscience which occasion it ; but an evan- 



12 MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. 

gelical repentance is the daily exercise of the true Chris- 
tian, 

We have sad and numerous instances of those who, for 
a while, appear under the greatest remorse for sin, and yet 
quickly wear off all their impressions, and return to the 
same course of impiety which occasioned their distress and 
terror ; and thereby declare to the world that their good- 
ness, like Ephraim's, was but as *' a morning cloud and the 
early dew." And besides these, there seem to be some who 
quiet conscience and speak peace to their souls, from their 
having been in distress and terror for their sins, from their 
reformation of some grosser immoralities, and from a formal 
course of duty. They have repented, they think, and there- 
fore conclude themselves at peace with God, and seem to 
have no great care or concern about either their former im- 
pieties or their daily transgressions. They conclude them- 
selves in a converted state, and are therefore easy, careless, 
and secure. These may think, and perhaps speak loftily 
of their experiences; they may be blown up with joyful 
apprehensions of their safe state, but have no impressions 
of their sins, no mourning after pardon, no groaning under 
the burden of a wicked heart, imperfect duties, and renewed 
provocations against God. They perform their duties in a 
careless manner, with a trifling, remiss frame of soul, while 
the great concerns of an unseen, eternal world, are but 
little in their minds ; and all their religion is a mere cold 
formality. They maintain the form, but are unconcerned 
about the power of godliness. 

On the other hand, a saving evangelical repentance in- 
volves a continual self- abasement and abhorrence of all sin, 
both in the heart and life. The true penitent does not for- 
get his past sins, and grow careless and unconcerned about 



MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. 13 

them, as soon as he obtains peace in his conscience, and a 
comforting hope that he is reconciled to God ; but the 
clearer evidences he obtains of the divine favor, the more 
does he loathe, abhor, and condemn himself for sin, the 
more vile does he seem in his own eyes, and the more ag- 
gravated and enormous do his past sins appear. A sense 
of pardoning mercy makes Paul appear to himself " the 
chief of sinners," and speak of himself as a pattern of hope 
to all that shall come after him. The true penitent not 
only continues to abhor himself on account of his past guilt 
and defilement, but finds daily cause to rencAV his repent- 
ance before God. He finds so much deadness, formality, 
and hypocrisy in his duties, so much carnaUty, worldly- 
mindedness, and unbelief in his heart, so much prevalence 
of his sinful affections, appetites, and passions, and so many 
foils by the sin that easily besets him, that he cannot but 
''groan, being burdened, while he is in this tabernacle." 
Repentance, therefore, is the daily continued exercise of the 
Christian. ''Have I hope," says the penitent soul, "that 
God has pardoned my sins ? What an instance of pardon- 
ing mercy is this ! How adorable is that wonderful grace, 
which has plucked such a brand out of the fire ! And am 
I still daily oflfending against such mercy and love ? Am I 
yet doing so little for him, who has done so much for me ? 
Ah, vile, sinful heart ! Ah, base ingratitude to such amaz- 
ing goodness ! for more victory over my corruptions ; 
for more thankfulness for such mercies ; for more spiritu- 
ahty and heavenly-mindedness ! What need have I, every 
day, to have this polluted soul washed in the blood of 
Christ, and to repair to the glorious Advocate with the 
Father for the benefit of his intercession ! Not a step can 
I take in my spmtual progress without fresh suppHes from 



VOL. VIII. 



41* 



14 MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. 

the fountain of grace and strength ; and yet how often am 
I provoking him to withdraw his influences, in whom is all 
my hope and confidence. * wretched man that I am ! who 
shall deliver me from this body of death ?' " Thus the 
true penitent " goes with his face Zionward, mourning as 
he goes." And thus, in his highest attainments of comfort 
and joy, will he find cause to be deeply humbled before 
God, and to wrestle with him for renewed pardon, and new 
supplies of strengthening and quickening grace. 

The difference between these two sorts of penitents is 
like that between the running of water in the paths after a 
shower, and the streams flowing from a living fountain ; a 
legal repentance lasting no longer than the terrors which 
occasion it, but an evangelical repentance being a continued 
war with sin. 

6. A legal repentance does at most produce only 3. par- 
tial and external reformation ; but an evangelical repentance 
is a total change of heart and life, a universal turning from 
sm to G-od. 

As some of the more gi-oss iniquities most commonly 
lead the way to that distress and terror which is the life of 
a legal and insincere repentance ; so a reformation of those 
sins too frequently wears off the impression, and gives peace 
and rest to the troubled conscience, without any further 
change. Or, at best, there will be some darling lusts re- 
tained, some right hand or right eye spared, some sweet 
morsel rolled under the tongue. If the legal penitent be 
afraid of the sins of commission, he may still live in the 
omission or the careless performance of known duty. Or, 
if he be more forward in the duties of God's immediate 
worship, he may still live in acts of injustice, strife, and 
uncharitableness towards men. If he shows some zeal and 



MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. 15 

activity in the service of God, lie will yet, perhaps, have 
his heart and affections inordinately attached to the world, 
and pursue it as the object of his chief desire and delight. 
If he avoids all open sins, he yet little regards the sins of 
his heart, but lives in envy, malice, pride, carnality, unbe- 
lief, or some other such heart- defiling sin. To finish his 
character, whatever seeming progress he may make in re- 
ligion, his heart is "not right with God," but is still going 
after his idols, still estranged from the power of godliness. 
The character of the sincere penitent is directly contrary 
to this. He finds, indeed, continued occasion to lament the 
great imperfections of his heart and life, and accordingly 
seeks renewed pardon and cleansing in the blood of Christ. 
But though he has " not already attained, nor is already 
perfect," he is " pressing towards perfection." He is watch- 
ing, striving against all his corruptions ; aiming at, and 
endeavoring after further conformity to God, in all holy 
conversation and godliness. He is never satisfied with a 
partial reformation, Avith external duty, or with any thing 
short of a life of vital piety. He does not renounce one 
lust and retain another ; content himself with the duties of 
the first table of the law, and neglect those of the second ; 
nor quiet himself in a life of mere formal godliness ; nor 
can he rest till he "rejoices in the testimony of his con- 
science, that in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with 
fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of God, he has his con- 
versation in the world." All the actings of his mind, as 
well as his external conduct, fall under his strictest inspec- 
tion, and he is ever earnest to approve himself to Him who 
"knows his thoughts afar ofi^'." His reformation extends not 
only to the devotions of the church, but of his family and 
his closet ; not only to his conversation, but to his thoughts 



16 MARKS OF TRUE REPENTANCE. 

and affections ; not only to the worship of God, but to the 
duties of every relation he sustains among men ; and, in a 
word, his repentance produces heavenly-mindedness, hu- 
mility, meekness, charity, patience, forgiving of injuries, 
self-denial ; and is accompanied with all other fruits and 
graces of the blessed Spirit. " It is the desire of my soul," 
says the sincere penitent, '' to keep the way of the Lord, 
and never depart from my God. I would refrain my feet 
from every evil way, and walk within my house with a per- 
fect heart. I know I have to do with a God who trieth the 
heart ; I would, therefore, set the Lord always before me, 
and serve him with a perfect heart and a willing mind." 

A legal repentance is an external reformation only, des- 
titute of all the graces of the blessed Spirit. True repent- 
ance is a change of the heart, of the will and affections, as 
well as of the outward conversation ; a change which is 
accompanied with all the fruits and graces of the Spirit of 
God, The one aims at just so much religion as will keep 
the mind easy, and calm the ruffles of an awakened con- 
science ; the other aims at a holy, humble, watchful, and 
spiritual walk with God, and rests in no degree of attain- 
ments whatsoever. 

Reader, I have thus laid before you some of the distin- 
guishing marks of true repentance, not to gratify curiosity, 
or as a subject of useless speculation, but that, renouncing 
all sin, and casting yourself on the mercy of Christ, you 
may, through the sanctifying influences of the Holy Spirit, 
exercise and practise that repentance xvhich is '^iinto life, not 
to he repented of.^^ 



i¥o. 396. 



MISTAKES OP PARENTS. 



BY REV. JOHN A. VAUGHAN, D. D. 



The attention of parents is here invited to the consider- 
ation of their pecuHar mistakes, duties, and encourage- 
ments ; principally the first. 

OBJECT OF SABBATH-SCHOOLS MISTAKEN. 

The Sabbath-school is an important help to the parent 
in training his child for God; but its object is too often mis- 
apprehended. In practice the parent seems to say, " My 
duties in the religious instruction of my offspring are now 
much relieved, if not entirely superseded. The teacher 
will see to this ; he is far more capable than I am. If I 
say too much, I shall only weary my child. I will send 
him regularly to the school, and there he will grow wise 
unto salvation." 

Here you may date the origin of many a child's want of 
interest in the Sabbath-school. Here you may see the cause 
of that unwilling mind, that wandering eye, that withering 
indifference, which so often meets the patient teacher, when 
the Sabbath lesson is taken in hand, or when the subject of 
religion is any way presented to the attention. It is not 
usually because you talk of religion that your children are 
weary, but because you have not done it earlier, or, doing it, 
have been grossly injudicious. It is not enough that you 
simply pray with them, and then leave them to their teacher : 
you must yourself labor for them, as well as pray. How 
can you expect that a pupil who spends but one hour in 168 
with his teacher will be essentially benefited, if the remain- 
ing 167 of the week are under the influence of a parent 
who, it may be, is a warm admirer of Sabbath-schools, but 
goes no further ; who never bestows a thought upon the 
appointed lesson, or upon the teacher who labors for him, 



2 MISTAKES OF PARENTS. 

and never accompanies bis children to the school to watch 
their growing interest in divine truth ? 

But begin early; consult frequently with the teacher; let 
your observing pupil have two instructors, who shall be 
one in their aim, their desires, their labors, their prayers. 
Let this be evident to him. Let him be instructed pleas- 
antly in the subject of the lesson at home. Then occasion- 
ally, at least, follow him to the school ; manifest that yours 
is the ivork of Christian education, and that you employ the 
school to assist in it ; and you will not long complain of 
want of interest, unless past neglect has hardened the pupil 
to indifference. 0, if Sabbath-schools were the common 
resort of parents, the united voice of thanksgiving would 
much oftener accompany the petition for converting grace. 

But all this is far from enough. The hoolcs from the 
Sabbath-school library should be carefully inspected, not 
only to know their tendency, but that you may converse 
upon them, illustrate and apply what you find useful, and 
examine your children in what they read. By these means 
you will interest them, and check that sad propensity to 
seek for novelty rather than improvement, unhappily pro- 
moted by the present system of Sabbath-school reading. 
Says a learned judge, "I read every book my children bring 
into the house, even to the penny sheet." 

INQUIRY AT A SABBATH-SCHOOL AS TO PREVIOUS PREPARATION. 

The usual amount of this domestic preparation may be 
inferred from the following results of inquiries in a respect- 
able Sabbath-school. Two questions were put to each pu- 
pil. 1. Was your lesson attended to at home? 2. Were 
you assisted? Of 184 members of the school, (it being 
winter,) 103 were present. To the first question, 66 an- 
swered in the affirmative. To the second, 24 ; and these 
last were assisted by 1 7 persons — the attention really given 
to the lesson being in some of these cases very far from a 
careful study. On that day no parent of any pupil visited 
the school. Every pupil in a Sabbath-school, even the 
youngest, should have an appointed lesson, if it be only a 
verse in one of Dr. Watts' hymns for children. And unless 
parents set apart a regular time for attending to this lesson, 
and see to it themselves, they cannot expect the needful 
preparation will be made. 



MISTAKES OF PARENTS. 3 

TIME GIVEN TO RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION. 

Such instruction often loses its weight because it is seen 
by children to bear but a very small proportion, in the time 
allotted to it, to the various other subjects which are urged 
upon their attention. If it really were so important, is their 
natural inference, we should hear more of it. Let parents 
take this rebuke home, for it is just. It is not enough to 
send your child for six hours a day to school, and to allow 
him as many more for amusement or some common em- 
ployments, and then recite before him, in your evening de- 
votions, that religion is the most important subject to which 
old or young can possibly attend. Will he believe you ? 
Or father, will not your prayers be to him a mere form ? 
Instead of thus keeping religion out of sight, there are a 
thousand ways in which, by example and by conversation, 
you may so mingle the motives to piety with daily business, 
and even amusements, that your child shall be at no loss to 
determine what rank holiness holds in your heart, and what 
rank it should occupy in his. Be on the watch, and you 
will not fail in opportunity. Two boys, in a boat on a river, 
being upset, were taken from the water nearly exhausted, 
and conveyed home. The moment they were sufficiently 
recovered, the mother addressed them, and in feeling lan- 
guage spoke of their dehverance: "Kneel down, my boys," 
said she, "and let us thank God for your preservation." 
Better far than swooning* away w^ith fright, as is too often 
the case with a fond mother. A lady who was then pres- 
ent remarked, " 1 shall never forget the impressiveness of 
that scene." 

MODE OF CONVEYING RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION— ILLUSTRATION. 

Parents frequently misapprehend the proper mode of 
conveying what they most earnestly desire their children 
should know and receive. This may arise from mistaken 
views of the youthful capacities. There is a beautiful sim- 
plicity in the mind of a child, w^hich requires patience and 
common sense in the mode of address. There is a freedom 
of inquiry peculiar to the intelligent child, which should be 
answered with much discretion. A little infant scholar of 
four, asked her sister, who was only three years older, 
" How can God wipe away the tears from their eyes when 
he hasn't got any handkerchief?" "It doesn't mean so," 



4 mSTAKES OF PARENTS. 

says her sister; ''it means that he will keep them from cry- 
ing." Startling as such queries may sometimes be, it should 
always be borne in mind from whence they proceed, and 
that much may then be allowed which at another age would 
be a direct impropriety. Even a smile in the midst of the 
most sacred things, which at forty might betray want of 
becoming seriousness, may frequently be expected in the 
child of four or of fourteen, 

A cause of frequent failure in instruction, is the use of 
language not adapted to the capacities and feelings of chil- 
dren. A child perhaps rejects a general proposition, when 
a circumstance or anecdote within its own compass or ob- 
servation, involving the same truth, might be fastened upon 
its attention. Parents of deep piety often lose sight of this 
law of the mind, and forget that the manner of the Bible 
itself is founded upon this very law. It was designed not 
only for the learned and reflecting, but for the uncultivated 
and the young, who are in this respect on the same footing. 
Where an important truth is to be impressed, we find a nar- 
ration or a parable is given involving it, and the inference 
to the inquiring mind is irresistible, though the submission 
of the heart may not immediately follow. 

Now follow this plan closely in early religious instruc- 
tion. Think not to impress your children Avith eloquent and 
elaborate descriptions of holy truth or holy affections, but 
proceed by illustration and example. What would cause 
the adult Christian to glow with delight, may be lost upon 
your little auditor of five, ten, or tAvelve, bent perhaps the 
whole time upon some scheme which better suits his active 
and impatient little mind and limbs. Suppose your subject 
is a particular providence. You have deeply felt the near- 
ness of God in some of his dealings, and, full of pious emo- 
tion, you seek to arrest your child with the current of your 
own reflections. But he is neither able nor willing to un- 
derstand, perhaps will not attend, and you are disappointed. 
An injury is thus done to you and to him. Now try an- 
other mode. Watch your opportunity and improve it. Go 
then to the Bible, lead your child gently along the journey 
of Abraham to Mount Moriah. The little listener will soon 
notice every incident. When you see this, point him to the 
uplifted knife; and then, just as the son is about to die be- 
neath the hand of the father, vour child will hear the voice 



MISTAKES OF PARENTS. 5 

of God averting the blow. Tell liim in tlie same way of 
Elijah fed by ravens ; or of Joseph's extraordinary history. 
Carry him at another time to the plain assertion of Christ, 
that not a " sparrow falls to the ground without our heavenly 
Father ;" that the very " hairs of our head are all numbered ;" 
and now he is prepared for the practical deduction, "Fear 
not, ye are of more value than many sparrcws." 

KNOWLEDGE OF SIN— CARELESSNESS IN FORGIVING FAULTS. 

The principle just illustrated may be applied success- 
fully to every important truth of this description. Urge 
upon a child continually that all men have sinned, and un- 
less he has been otherwise interested in religious inquiry, 
these words will soon fall powerless upon the ear. But he 
has himself committed some fault which causes uneasiness. 
Leave this until you perceive a favorable moment, when 
there may be a more than usual sense of God's presence, 
perhaps Avhen the activity of the day is past, and your child 
is committing himself quietly to rest. Now remind him of 
his fault ; show him the unhappiness so closely connected 
with sin ; point out some instances of the mournful retribu- 
tions of sin, especially in the young, in your own neighbor- 
hood. He will at once perceive and feel that there is some- 
thing wrong, something unhappy in self-indulgence, and 
that he himself is not exempt. Now call sin by its right 
name, and it will at least'be known, if not avoided, in what- 
ever garb it may appear. This will in most cases be a great 
point gained ; and if you avoid the common error of con- 
founding a parent's forgiveness with that of God, you may 
do much to lead him to the only source of pardon, to the 
Saviour. You may soon convince him, that although your 
share in the offence may be forgiven, God alone can forgive, 
so far as his commands have been broken. How sad the 
delusion which here overspreads the Avhole business of edu- 
cation ! The child is sorry for a fault ; a lie perhaps has 
been told ; some care has been taken to enlighten the con- 
science, and he feels its condemning power. He comes to 
his parent and asks forgiveness in such a manner that the 
parent grants it at once. Now this may be right, but it is 
far from enough. Has there been no offence against the 
law of God, which parental love cannot clear away ? While 
the child thinks the whole account settled, is there not 

VOL. vni. 42 



6 MISTAKES OF PARENTS. 

"written against him a sentence in heaven, where he has 
sought no forgiveness ? Never, then, suffer your child to 
forget the solemn truth, which was admitted by the Jews 
of old, *' Who can forgive sins but God only ?^^ If all sin 
is an offence against the great law of love to God, how can 
a serious parent dare thus to settle the account and silence 
conscience ? As well might the trembling criminal, who 
has dipped his hands in blood, think that all is settled, 
when a verdict of "not guilty" has been returned in his 
favor, or when a pardon is received from the highest author- 
ity in the state, or even when his sentence is executed. The 
difference is only in degree. In kind it is the same with 
the faults of childhood. One who freely and carelessly 
forgives a lie may do much to ruin his child. 

HEAVENLY EXJOYiMENTS ILLUSTRATED. 

The child must be at first approached through the 
senses. You must talk of what he can perceive, as the 
means of his attaining some idea of things unseen. For 
instance, your child has listened with delight to some elo- 
quent display of mind ; he has formed very exalted ideas 
of the intellect and attainments of others. It is immaterial 
whether he has felt this incipient admiration from a lecture, 
from an interestinir and intellicrent author, or from listeninfr 
to sensible conversation. Now point him to an eternal, an 
infinite Mind, and show him that there must be unspeaka- 
ble delight to the humble and the holy, in contemplating 
the powers and works of such a mind, and that to this de- 
light there can be no end. 

FRUITS OF RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION NOT ALWAYS EVIDENT AT 
THE TIME. 

Parents often seem to think that the religious character 
of their offspring must receive its whole impress in some 
single act. Struck by extraordinary cases of youthful con- 
version, and trusting that the special influences of the Spirit 
will cause the light suddenly to shine fully in the heart, 
there is a strong leaning to the belief that this favored mo- 
ment must be very distinctly marked. Now, with God 
such may be the case, but not perhaps with you. If it 
were, you might know too much ; and it would not be as 
with the "wind," which "bloweth where it listeth, and 



MISTAKES OF PARENTS. 7 

thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it 
Cometh or whither it goeth." No ; you must be stead}^ and 
unceasing in your influence, your instructions, your means. 
God may work with them or without them, as he shall see 
fit; but your labor in the Lord shall not be in vain. " In 
the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not 
thy hand, for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either 
this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good." 

DISCOURAGEMENT.— DR. MORRISON.— ISAAC BARROW. 

Closely connected with this, is the very common mis- 
take of discouragement. No feeling of this kind should 
ever prevail with the faithful parent. Want of success 
should lead to self-inquiry, to vigorous effort, to a faithful 
study of the subject in all its parts, but never to discour- 
agement. Such a feeling in the Christian betrays a want 
of humble confidence in the God of grace. The case of Dr. 
Morrison cannot be too often urged — the ragged, aban- 
doned, and hardened Sabbath-school boy, about to be dis- 
missed by his discouraged teacher — one eftbrt more, and 
he becomes the subject of penitence and of faith — then the 
learned and indefatigable translator for the Chinese, and 
then a star of first magnitude in the East, reflecting beams 
from the Sun of righteousness that may light millions to 
glory. Such was the early stupidity and hopeless conduct 
of that sound English divine, Isaac Barrow, that, strange 
to say, his father, in utter despair of his graceless son, cried 
out, that if called to part with any child, he hoped it might 
be Isaac. But God knew better. 

THE SAILOR CONVERTED BY MEANS OF THREE WORDS. 

A simple fact or two w^ill show how it may be with 
every one that is born of the Spirit, and how it is with 
many. A rough sailor who kept watch on deck during the 
still hours of midnight, becomes thoughtful. On a sudden 
the words, *' Pray loithout ceasing,'^ fall upon his memory, 
and then upon his conscience. What are these strange 
terms, and where did the command come from? He is 
roused to inquire, and soon recollects that, seven years be- 
fore, he had strolled over London on the Sabbath. On 
passing through the immense building of St. Paul's, he had 
observed in one part, separated from the rest, a congrega- 



8 MISTAKES OF PARENTS. 

tion at worship. He had looked in and remained long 
enough to hear the Avords, ''Pray without ceasing." He 
had forgotten them, but now the contrast between the com- 
mand and his neglect is forced upon him. He seeks divine 
forgiveness. He remembers that his chest contains at the 
bottom a despised and unopened Bible, which a careful 
mother had placed there years before. His impressions are 
deepened, the Holy Spirit sanctifies to him the truth, and 
"behold, he prayeth." 

A YOUNG MAN CONVINCED OF SIN WHILE DISTURBING A 
SABBATH-SCHOOL. 

Some time since a young man of Bellows Falls deter- 
mined to add to his Sunday sports and amuse his ungodly 
associates by a visit of intrusion to the Sabbath- school. He 
had scarcely obtained firm footing within the room, when 
this reflection came over him, he knew not how, but to 
shake it off was impossible: "What motiv^e can influence 
so many teachers to spend their time, their means, and un- 
ceasino: toil in the relimous instruction of others ? It must 
be something very different from that which actuates me in 
disturbing them. Their reward is not here ; mine is the 
wages of sin." He is for some time riveted to the floor, 
and when a teacher approaches with a friendly invitation, 
he suff'ers himself to be led like a lamb, and joins a class. 
His ungodly companions are his no longer, and he joins, 
shortly, the great company of those who are rejoicing on 
their way to heaven. 

Now, in each of the above cases, who will say that other 
means, applied faithfully, might not have availed, and saved 
years of sin and sorrow ? But who will say, in view of 
such cases, that there is ever ground for despair ? Still 
more, when we see, in ten thousand other cases, sorrowful 
warnings against delay, what parent, whose heart has been 
warmed with the hope of the Gospel, will venture to omit 
a single act of fidelity to his off"spring ? His hope of suc- 
cess will rest only upon such a conscientious and unremit- 
ting faithfulness, that he can joyfully leave the result with 
God, confiding in his promise. Do your duty, and " hope 
that your child will be a Christian." 



MISTAKES OF PARENTS. 9 

CONTRAST. 

The principle of contrast is too seldom improved. This 
appears to be a prominent feature in that word which " is 
quick and powerful, sharper than a two-edged sword :" the 
life of sin and its appalling consequences on the one hand ; 
the life of holiness with its cheering and peaceful posses- 
sions on the other. Let parents follow the example, and 
bring this principle more frequently into view. Pride may 
long affect to deny the difference, and refuse to make the 
self-application ; but enlightened conscience may at length 
be goaded on to a decision. It is not always requisite to 
picture the transgressor's self. Show him sometimes his 
reverse, and sin will often defeat its own designs, by bring- 
ing out in glowing colors its affecting contrast. When a 
portrait of impiety has been in vain presented, and the truth 
is resisted or evaded, then show him what he should be, 
what he may be, but what he is not. It may suit his pecu- 
liar temper and excite inquiry, though not a word may have 
been said in personal condemnation. No one can describe 
to another his heart so well as himself can see it, provided 
he will but look ; and this looking may be induced by means 
as various as the tempers of individuals. Says Cecil, that 
devoted man of God, "Parental influence hangs on the 
wheels of evil. I had a pious mother, who would talk to 
me, and weep as she talked. I flung out of the house with 
an oath, but wept too when I got into the street. Sympa- 
thy is the powerful engine of the mother." 

KINDNESS AND AUTHORITY. 

It is a difficult matter for any suitably to mingle kind- 
ness and authority in urging the claims of religion. In 
kindness there is danger of loose indifterence, or at least the 
appearance of it ; in authority, the parent fears producing 
formality, and perhaps disgust. Let him distinguish here 
between the feelings and the judgment of a child. The 
feelings may, by no means, be of that obstinately perverted 
character which the same inclinations would imply, were 
the judgment mature ; and yet how many parents either 
command the performance of religious duties Avhen persua- 
sion would be sufficient, or on the other hand, improperly 
leave the decision entirely to the youthful judgment when 
authority is necessary ! How many of the young, for ex- 
voL. vm. 42* 



10 MISTAKES OF PARENTS. 

ample, are just requested to attend the Sabbath-school. 
Nothing is felt of its importance by the child himself, and a 
little feeling of disrelish decides upon a step of perhaps 
immeasurable consequence to an immortal soul. With a 
well-educated child the decided ivish of a parent will be 
equivalent to a command ; and where it is not, the command 
should certainly be given and enforced. A child might be 
left to neglect public worship, the day-school, and every 
privilege, for want of parental decision, with just as much 
propriety as the benefit of a Sabbath-school. 

YOUTHFUL DIFFICULTIES. 

There will be with the young peculiar difficulties, and 
no less in the formation of religious character than in other 
things. These difficulties should be considered, and every 
proper means taken to remove them. It will not do to treat 
all the children even of one family alike in all things : a 
delicacy and discrimination are requisite, too often lost sight 
of in a hasty mode of family rule. The first movements of 
a religious cast are often extremely susceptible. They may 
be extinguished by a rough and unexpected treatment even 
of a Christian parent; or from a reserve frequently accom- 
panying these impressions, they may remain without sym- 
pathy, because unknown. On the other hand, they may, 
by a gentle cooperation, in humble dependence on divine 
grace, be fanned into a pure, steady, and heavenward flame. 

HOME MADE INTERESTING TO THE YOUNG. 

Sufficient pains are not generally taken to make home 
interesting and pleasant to the young. Well has it been 
said, that children should feel convinced that they may be 
more wicked elsewhere, but that they cannot be more happy. 
If this conviction is strongly fixed at an early age, there 
will be little desire for the false excitements of distant pleas- 
ure. There is a restlessness at this age, which must receive 
a right direction, or it will infallibly take a wrong one. If 
not in some measure consulted and made happy at home, 
company will be sought abroad, and that almost of neces- 
sity of a corrupting tendency. A parent, therefore, who 
expects his son or daughter to grow up with warm domes- 
tic attachments, and to seek their enjoyments principally at 
home, must endeavor to render those enjoyments satisfying. 



MISTAKES OF PARENTS. H 

He must sympathize with his children in their little interests, 
and thus gain an influence which he may use for God. In- 
struction and amusement must, for this, be pleasantly and 
systematically introduced. Listen to your child when he 
speaks of his little troubles and joys, and he will listen to 
you when you speak of God and the Bible. Gain his ear, 
and you may then whisper the things which concern his 
everlasting peace. But it would be unnatural to expect 
him to give up the fascinations of extended intercourse for 
home, Avithout any thing to fill the void. 

MATERIAL CARE. 

Man's life is his term of preparation for the scene be- 
yond the grave ; but it has been correctly observed, that 
practically considered, this season of preparation is in many 
cases over, long before the close of life. The chief hope 
of the parent lies before his child has attained the age of 
twenty ; and a father has usually but little continued influ- 
ence over his son after he is fifteen : even before this period 
the busy occupations of life leave the burden chiefly upon 
the mother, who can scarcely control an unruly spirit over 
ten or twelve. If, then, she would have her son a shining 
light in the regions of grace, she must think nothing of her 
ten years of labor and care for him, in comparison with the 
fearful loss to be avoided, and the more than worlds to be 
gained. O think how much one Christian mother does in 
training up for God some devoted servant — a Whitefield, a 
Scott, or a Chalmers — or who even o-ains over a Washingr- 
ton, or a Wilberforce, to the pure and disinterested love of 
his fellow-man ! She sets at work a moral power which 
goes on accumulating for ever. 

PATERXAL CARE. 

But let the father of a growing family also remember, 
pressing as his business may be, that very much depends 
upon his devoting systematically some portion of his time 
to that instruction of his family which no money can pro- 
cure. Let him by no means plead ignorance : if he begins 
in time, he can at least grow Avith his children in their 
attainments. He should remember that in a course of years 
a large family, brought up on sound and conscientious 
principles, will cost less than one child of expensive and 



12 MISTAKES OF PARENTS. 

dissipated habits. He should remember also that his chil- 
dren have eternal interests, for which he is bound to consult. 
And when is the child to meet the parent in this search 
for goodly pearls, if the one is wholly occupied in school 
through the day, and the other in business through the 
evening ? 

HIRING CHILDREN TO BE GOOD. 

There is an apparently trifling but very pernicious prac- 
tice which often prevails, of hiring children to do their 
duty, especially when of that description which is plainly 
commanded by God. If you pay them for obeying you, 
for attending upon religious instruction, or performing any 
religious duty, you lay the foundation for an inveterate 
perversion of heart and character. Ev^ery worthy motive 
is thus shut out, and a low feehng of selfish barter intro- 
duced. The plan may be less questionable, when occasionally 
applied to encourage any system of industry, or persever- 
ance, or self-denial not so obviously required by moral 
obligation ; but the simple fact that God has commanded, 
should silence every selfish inclination, and be felt in all its 
singleness. 

DISSIPATING AMUSEMENTS— VICE. 

Too often parents and even professed Christians are 
found indulging their children in amusements inconsistent 
with the grand business of Christian education, and perhaps 
also in vices which destroy the sensibility of conscience. 
Hard indeed must it be for a parent to interpose his au- 
thority, when such habits have been formed through his 
own neglect, or want of judgment, or silent acquiescence. 
But it must be done, or the double sin will lie at his door. 
The affecting example of Eli speaks in solemn and awful 
tones of rebuke to all who, from any cause, indulge their 
offspring in any known immorality. " I will judge his 
house for ever for the iniquity which he knoweth, because 
his sons made themselves vile, and he restrained them not." 

EDUCATION TO BE STUDIED AS A SYSTEM. 

If any pursuit requires study and system, it is parental 
duty in the business of education ; which, to be complete, 
requires the aid of religious principle from the foundation 



MISTAKES OF PARENTS. 13 

to the topstone ; and yet liow remiss are parents on this 
point. After bringing forward the older children, perhaps 
with injury at every step, they begin to see the sad effects 
of errors in judgment, even where the best intentions may 
have existed. They now reverse the system, but too late ; 
and, passing from one extreme to another, all is difficulty 
and anxiety. The elder pervert the younger ; and the 
difference in plan adds perplexity to the whole scene. It 
is the part of wisdom to avail ourselves of the experience 
of others, and yet how hard to acknowledge that we need 
it ! Otherwise, how is it that most lamentable mistakes in 
education, after having been often and clearly pointed out, 
are still followed in so many families, leading on to disap- 
pointment, disgrace, and ruin ? 

INSTANCES OF SUCCESS.— MODES OF ATTAINING IT. 

To encourage parents in the religious education of their 
children, God has said, " Train up a child in the way he 
should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it." 
So far, then, as a parent fails in what he might perform, if 
rightly instructed in his work, he is accountable for the 
result, and for the prevalence of evil. And when there are 
striking instances of success, they should be published and 
examined by others, and the best modes of proceeding 
should be sought out, and adopted systematically by all 
around. A few plain books of direction should be in the 
hands of every intelligent parent. Take a family as an 
example : the facts can be vouched for. The parents of 
this family are of exemplary piety ; the children (seven in 
number) all intelligent, well informed, and well educated, 
cheerful and active in the cause of their Redeemer, being 
all apparently of decided and winning piety. The five sons 
are in the ministry, or preparing for it. Is there nothing to 
be learned from such parents ? Go one step further. Says 
the father of this family to a female friend, "To you, 
madam, we are largely indebted for our success." " How ?" 
says the astonished acquaintance. " By lending us, many 
years since, a copy of the little work. Elementary Princi- 
ples of Education." Now, although this Avork is by no 
means a sufficient guide in Christian education, yet its use- 
fulness to these parents proves that all justifiable means 
are to be sought for gaining an influence over the young. 



14 MISTAKES OF PARENTS. 

Let another case be added. The mother of that ardent 
little Christian, Mary Lothrop, whose simple biography has 
excited so strong an interest in every reader, was asked by 
a friend how she succeeded in cultivating the religious affec- 
tions of her children, and fixing so deeply and so early such 
strong impressions of Christian obedience and faith. Her 
answer Avas full of interest and of sound philosophy, worthy 
the attention of parents, teachers, and even divines, and 
was to this effect : " I do not take the opportunity when 
mij own heart is warm in devotion, but I seek the moments 
when my children are interested and tender, and then I lead 
them to duty and to God. I then labor, and then my 
labors are blessed." 

PARENTAL MEETINGS— MATERNAL ASSOCIATIONS. 

Valuable hints are to be gathered by interchange of 
thought and comparison of experience. It is not improba- 
ble, if we may judge from experiments already made, that 
social rehgious meetings may hereafter be conducted with 
a more distinct reference to classification, and connected 
with mutual instructions in the duties of life peculiar to 
each portion of a Christian community. The Sabbath- 
school is one step towards this. Maternal societies may be 
another ; and we may hereafter find parents associated 
together to study out faithfully their responsibilities, and 
the Avay to meet them. Thus, vastly more energy, and 
prayer, and faith will be enlisted for securing the early con- 
version of children and youth. 

WARNINGS TO PARENTS NOT PIOUS. 

The foregoing remarks have been addressed principally 
to those personally interested in religion. But there are 
parents who feel that they are themselves destitute of piety, 
and yet are deeply concerned that their children should be 
brought up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. 
They wish success to Sabbath- schools, and send their chil- 
dren. Theb' language practically is, " My beloved offspring, 
I feel the importance of piety, of seeking that peace which 
the world can neither give nor take away. To be safe, you 
must remember your Creator in the days of your youth, 
and walk in his ways, and give yourselves to his service. I 
advise you urgently to do this ; but if you follow my advice — • 



MISTAKES OF PARENTS. 15 

and I trust you will — we must part, and perhaps for ever. 
You will be rising higher and higher towards the mansions 
of the just ; you will be ' seeking for glory, honor, immor- 
tality ;' ' eternal life ' will be your reward ; but I shall 
most likely go on. My habits are fixed, and the grave, I 
fear, will find me as I now am. I am moral, and kind to 
others ; but I am too old to think now of turning heartily 
to God. I am not happy, and have no reason to think I 
ever shall be ; but you may rejoice for ever." Strange, 
dreadful inconsistency ! and yet how many parents take 
their children by the hand, and without giving them a 
single warning, lead them with all the force of example 
steadily onwards towards the grave, without God and with- 
out hope ! how immensely important, then, that parents 
should possess a living faith, and show the way ; and by 
their own Christian character, by their unceasing instruc- 
tions and prayers, set in full view before their youthful 
dependents the difficult but sure path of life, and glory, 
and immortal blessedness ! 

ENCOURAGEMENT FOR FAITHFUL PARENTS. 

We may safely appeal to the experience of the Christian 
father and mother, to declare the joy they experienced when 
they have witnessed the blessing of God crowning their 
labors and prayers with success — when they have found 
Christ formed in the heart of their child — when the young- 
immortal, owing its existence to them, has turned from an 
unsatisfying world to the service of the living God, and 
become a meek, self-denying, ardent follower of the Lamb. 
Upon all others the trial is now urgently pressed ; they may 
expect their encouragements and rewards to be the same, 
if the work is undertaken in the same faith. And let every 
parent remember, that in whatever other ways the voice of 
God may speak, it should be heard with reverence, and 
obeyed. 

If you are unfaithful, even undesignedly, when you might 
have known your duty, your offspring may be deprived, by 
your means, of the choicest blessings of heaven. Receive 
then instruction, and be wise : " There is joy in the presence 
of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth." And 
if the repentance of even an aged wanderer, who has nothing 
to offer on his return but a worn-out self, can cause such 



16 MISTAKES OF PARENTS. 

joy in the world of light, who but a parent can tell the 
rejoicings unspeakable that swell a parent's bosom, when 
that sinner is a beloved child, a child now willing to devote 
body and soul, free and vigorous, to the service of a Sav- 
iour, where every name before had fallen as an unmeaning 
sound upon the ear ? 

Parents, your Sabbath- school teachers have labored with 
you to secure these rejoicings, and to multiply the joys of 
the heavenly host; how faithfully, how successfully, will 
be known only in the great day of account. You are now 
called upon to cooperate more cordially with them ; and 
may you be quickened and invigorated by the same assur- 
ance that animates them. They that turn many to right- 
eousness shall shine as the stars for ever and ever. 



WATCH AND PRAY. 

My soul, be on thy guard, 

Ten thousand foes arise. 
And hosts of sins are pressing hard 

To draw thee from the skies. 

watch, and fight, and pray ; 

The battle ne'er give o'er ; 
Renew it boldly every day, 

And help divine implore. 

Ke'er think the victory won, 

Nor once at ease sit down : 
Thy arduous work will not be done 

Till thou hast got thy crown. Heath. 



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