He, who in private society allows himself in violent anger, or unhallowed bitterness, or acrimonious railing, in reprehending the faults of another, might, did his power keep pace with his inclination, have recourse to other weapons. He would probably banish and burn, confiscate and imprison, and think then as he thinks now, that he is doing God service.

If there be any quality which demands a clearer sight, a tighter rein, a stricter watchfulness than another, zeal is that quality. The heart where it is wanting has no elevation; where it is not guarded, no security. The prudence with which it is exercised is the surest evidence of its integrity; for if intemperate, it not only raises enemies to ourselves, but to God. It augments the natural enmity to religion, instead of increasing her friends.

But if tempered by charity, if blended with benevolence, if sweetened by kindness, if evinced to be honest by its influence on your own conduct, and gentle by its effect on your manners, it may lead your irreligious acquaintance to inquire more closely in what consists the distinction between them and you. You will already, by this mildness, have won their affections. Your next step may be to gain over their judgment. They may be led to examine what solid grounds of difference subsist between you and them. What substantial reason you have for not going their lengths. What sound argument they can offer for not going yours.

But it may possibly be asked, after all, where do we perceive any symptoms of this inflammatory distemper? Should not the prevalence, or, at least, the existence of a disease be ascertained, previous to the application of the remedy? That it exists is sufficiently obvious, though it must be confessed, that among the higher ranks it has not hitherto spread very widely; nor is its progress likely to be very alarming, or its effects very malignant. It is to be lamented that in every rank, indeed, coldness and indifference, carelessness and neglect, are the reigning epidemics. These are diseases far more difficult of cure, diseases not more dangerous to the patient than distressing to the physician, who generally finds it more difficult to raise a sluggish habit than to lower an occasional heat. The imprudently zealous man, if he be sincere, may, by a discreet regimen, be brought to a state of complete sanity; but to rouse from a state of morbid indifference; to brace from a total relaxation of the system, must be the immediate work

of the great physician of souls; of him who can effect even this, by his Spirit accompanying this powerful word, Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light.

CHAP. XVIII.

Insensibility to Eternal Things.

INSENSIBILITY to eternal things, in beings who are standing on the brink of eternity, is a madness which would be reckoned among prodigies, if it were not so common. It would be altogether incredible, if the numberless instances we have of it, were only related, and not witnessed, were only heard of, and not experienced.

If we had a certain prospect of a great estate, and a splendid mansion which we knew must be ours in a few days; and not only ours as a bequest, but an inheritance; not only as a possession, but a perpetuity; if, in the mean time, we rented, on a precarious lease, a paltry cottage in bad repair, ready to fall, and from which we knew we must at all events soon be turned out, depending on the proprietor's will, whether the ejectment might not be the next minute; would it argue wisdom or even common sense, totally to overlook our near and noble reversion, and to be so fondly attached to our falling tenement, as to spend great part of our time and thoughts in supporting its ruins by props, and concealing its decays by decorations? To be so absorbed in the little sordid pleasures of this frail abode, as not even to cultivate a taste for the delights of the mansion, where such treasures are laid up for us, and on the possession of which we fully reckon in spite of our neglect; this is an excess of inconsideration, which must be seen to be credited.

It is a striking fact, that the acknowledged uncertainty of life drives worldly men to make sure of every thing depending on it, except their eternal concerns. It leads them

to be regular in their accounts, and exact in their bargains, They are afraid of risking ever so little property, on so precarious a tenure as life, without insuring a reversion. There are even some who speculate on the uncertainty of

life as a trade. Strange, that this accurate calculation of the duration of life should not involve a serious attention to its end! Strange, that the critical annuitant should totally overlook his perpetuity! Strange, that in the prudent care not to risk a fraction of property, equal care should not be taken, not to risk eternal salvation!

We are not supposing flagitious characters, remarkable for any thing which the world calls wicked; we are not supposing their wealth obtained by injustice, or increased by oppression. We are only supposing a soul drawn aside from God, by the alluring baits of a world, which, like the treacherous lover of Atalanta, causes him to lose the victory by throwing golden apples in his way. The shining baits are obtained, but the race is lost!

To worldly men of a graver cast, business may be as formidable an enemy as pleasure is to those of a lighter turn: business has so sober an air that it looks like virtue, and virtuous it certainly is, when carried on in a proper spirit, with due moderation, and in the fear of God. To have a lawful employment, and to pursue it with diligence, is not only right and honorable in itself, but is one of the best preservatives from temptation.*

When a man pleads in his favor, the diligence business demands, the self-denying practices it imposes, the patience, the regularity, the industry indispensable to its success, when he argues that these are habits of virtue, that they are a daily discipline to the moral man, and that the world could not subsist without business, he argues justly: but when he forgets his interests in the eternal world, when he neglects to lay up a treasure in heaven, in order that he may augment a store which he does not want, and, perhaps, does not intend to use, or uses to purposes merely secular, he is a bad calculator of the relative value of things.

Business has an honorable aspect as being opposed to idleness, the most hopeless offspring of the whole progeny of sin. The man of business comparing himself with the man of dissipation, feels a fair and natural consciousness of his own value, and of the superiority of his own pursuits. But it is by comparison that we deceive ourselves to our ruin. Business, whether professional, commercial, or political, endangers minds of a better cast, minds which look

*That accurate judge of human life, Dr. Johnson, has often been heard, by the writer of these pages, to observe, that it was the greatest misfortune which could befall a man, to have been bred to no profession, and pathetically to regret that this misfortune was his own.

down on pleasure as beneath a thinking being. But if business absorb the affections, if it swallow up time, to the neglect of eternity; if it generate a worldly spirit; if it cherish covetousness; if it engage the mind in long views, and ambitious pursuits, it may be as dangerous, as its more inconsiderate and frivolous rival. The grand evil of

both lies in the alienation of the heart from God. Nay, in one respect, the danger is greater to him who is the best employed. The man of pleasure, however thoughtless, can never make himself believe that he is doing right. The man plunged in the serious bustle of business, cannot easily persuade himself that he may be doing wrong.

Commutation, compensation, and substitution, are the grand engines which WORLDLY RELIGION incessantly keeps in play. Hers is a life of barter, a state of spiritual traffic, so much indulgence for so many good works. The implication is, "C we have a rigorous master," and it is but fair to indemnify ourselves for the severity of his requisitions; just as an overworked servant steals a holiday. "These persons," says an eminent writer,* "maintain a meum and tuum with heaven itself." They set bounds to God's prerogative, lest it should too much encroach on man's privilege.

We have elsewhere observed, that if we invite people to embrace religion on the mere mercenary ground of present pleasure, they will desert it as soon as they find themselves disappointed. Men are too ready to clamor for the pleasures of piety, before they have, I dare not say, entitled themselves to them, but put themselves into the way of receiving them. We should be angry at that servant, who made the receiving of his wages a preliminary to the performance of his work. This is not meant to establish the merit of works, but the necessity of our seeking that transforming and purifying change which characterizes the real Christian; instead of complaining that we do not possess those consolations, which can be consequent only on such a mutation of the mind.

But if men consider this world on the true scripture ground, as a state of probation; if they consider religion as a school for happiness indeed, but of which the consummation is only to be enjoyed in heaven, the Christian hope will support them; the Christian faith will strengthen them They will serve diligently, wait patiently, love cordially,

*The learned and pious John Smith.

obey faithfully, and be steadfast under all trials, sustained by the cheering promise held out to him "who endures to the end.'

There are certain characters who seem to have a graduated scale of vices. Of this scale they keep clear of the lowest degrees, and to rise above the highest they are not ambitious, forgetful that the same principle which operates in the greater, operates also in the less. A life of incessant gratification does not alarm the conscience, yet it is equally unfavorable to religion, equally destructive of its principle, equally opposite to its spirit, with more obvious vices.

These are the habits which, by relaxing the mind and dissolving the heart, particularly foster indifference to our spiritual state and insensibility to the things of eternity. A life of voluptuousness, if it be not a life of actual sin, is a disqualification for holiness, for happiness, for heaven. It not only alienates the heart from God, but lays it open to every temptation to which natural temper may invite, or incidental circumstances allure. The worst passions lie dormant in hearts given up to selfish indulgences, always ready to start into action as occasion calls.

Voluptuousness and irreligion play into each other's hands: they are reciprocally cause and effect. The looseness of the principle confirms the carelessness of the conduct, while the negligent conduct in its own vindication shelters itself under the supposed security of unbelief. The instance of the rich man in the parable of Lazarus, strikingly illustrates this truth.

Whoever doubts that a life of sensuality is consistent with the most unfeeling barbarity to the wants and sufferings of others; whoever doubts that boundless expense and magnificence, the means of procuring which were wrung from the robbery and murder of a lacerated world, may not be associated with that robbery and murder,-let him turn to the gorgeous festivities and unparalleled pageantries of Versailles and St. Cloud.-There the imperial harlequin, from acting the deepest and the longest tragedy that ever drew tears of blood from an audience composed of the whole civilized globe, by a sudden stroke of his magic wand, shifts the scene to the most preposterous pantomime :

Where moody madness laughing wild
Amidst severest wo,

gloomily contemplates the incongruous spectacle, sees the