CHAPTER XX.

A FEW OF THE LESSONS I HAVE LEARNED ON MY WAY THROUGH LIFE.

And now for a few of the lessons which I have learned on my way through

life.

1. One, alas! is, that it is very difficult to bring young people to

benefit by the experience of their elders. It would be a happy thing if

we could put old men's heads on young men's shoulders; but no method of

performing the operation has, as yet, been hit upon. It might answer as

well, if old men could empty their heads into the heads of the young.

But this is a task almost as difficult as the former. The heads of the

young are generally full of foolish thoughts, and vain conceits, and

wild dreams of what they are to be, and do, and enjoy in the days to

come, with large admixtures at times of more objectionable materials; so

that there is no room for the counsels and admonitions of their elders.

Then there are some who do not _like_ to be counselled or admonished.

Having set their minds on the attainment of a certain object, they are

unwilling to listen to any but such as commend their course, and

encourage them with promises of success. There are others who think

they have no need of counsel or admonition. Counsel and admonition are

proper enough for some people, but they are not required in their case,

they imagine. They do not exactly think themselves beings of a superior

order, beyond the reach of ordinary dangers; but they _act_ as if they

thought so. In words they would acknowledge themselves to be but men,

liable to the common frailties of their race; but their conduct seems to

say, "It is impossible _we_ should ever err or sin as some men do; we

are better constructed, and are born to a happier lot." Their purpose is

to do right, and it never enters their minds that they can ever do

wrong. And if you tell them that they are in danger of becoming

intemperate, or skeptical, or of falling into any great error or sin,

they feel hurt, and say, "Do you suppose we are dogs that we should do

such things?" Dogs or not, when the time of trial comes, they do them.

And then they discover, that men are not always so wise, so good, or so

strong as they suppose themselves; that people may be the subjects of

weaknesses of which they are utterly unconscious, till assailed by some

unlooked for temptation; and they mourn at the last, and say, "How have

we hated instruction, and despised the counsel of the Holy One." And now

they see that the strongest need a stronger one than themselves to

shield them, and that the wisest need a wiser one than themselves to

guide them, if they are to be kept from harm.

We have no disposition to be severe with such persons, for we belonged

to the same unhappy class ourselves. It never once entered our minds in

our earlier days, that we could ever fall away from Christ. We saw that

others were in danger, but we never supposed we were in danger

ourselves. We preached from the text, "Let him that thinketh he

standeth, take heed lest he fall," and we pressed the solemn warning on

our hearers with the greatest earnestness; but we never applied it to

ourselves. We supposed ourselves secure. And if any one had told us that

we should one day cease to be a Christian, and above all, if any man had

said that we should fall into unbelief, and be ranked with the opponents

of Christianity, we should have thought him insolent or mad. Yet we know

what followed. We cannot therefore deal harshly with our too

self-confident brethren. But we must give them faithful warning. Be on

your guard, my dear young friends. You are not so free from defects, nor

so far from danger, as your conscious innocence, or the great deceiver,

may insinuate. There may be tendencies to evil within you, and

temptations in the mysterious world around you, of the character and

force of which you have no conception. It was as great and good a man as

you perhaps that said,

"Weaker than a bruised reed,

Help I every moment need."

And he was wise that said,--

"Beware of Peter's words,

Nor confidently say,

'I never _will_ deny thee, Lord;'

But, 'Grant I never may.'"

There are devices of the wicked one of which you are not yet aware;

"depths of Satan" which you have not yet fathomed; and terrible

possibilities of which, as yet, you have never dreamed. I say again, Be

on your guard. "Be not high-minded, but fear." "Blessed is the man that

feareth always." None are so weak as those who think themselves strong.

None are in such danger as those who think themselves secure.

Man, even at best, is not so great, so wise, so strong, as some are

prone to suppose: and when, cut off from Christ and His people, from the

Bible and prayer, he trusts in his own resources, he is poor, and weak,

and frail in the extreme. There are no errors, no extravagances, no

depths of degradation, into which the lawless self-reliant man may not

fall. When I had lost my faith in Christ, and had freed myself from all

restraints of Bible authority and Church discipline, I said to myself,

"I will be a MAN; all that a man acting freely, giving his soul

full scope, tends naturally to become; and I will be nothing else." I

had come to the conclusion that man was naturally good--that, when

freely and fully developed, apart from the authority of religion,

churches and books, he would become the perfection of wisdom, and

goodness, and happiness. I said to myself, "Christ was but a man; and

the reason why He so much excelled all other men was, that He acted

freely, without regard to the traditions of the elders, the law of

Moses, or any authority but that of His own untrammelled mind. I will

follow the same course. I will free myself from the prejudices of my

education, from the influence of my surroundings, and from the authority

of all existing laws and religions, and be my own sole ruler, my own

sole counsellor, my own sole guide. I will act with regard to the

religion of Christ, as Christ acted with regard to the religion of

Moses; obey it, abolish it, or modify it, as its different parts may

require. I will act with regard to the Church authorities of my time as

Jesus acted with regard to the Scribes and Pharisees of His day; I will

set them aside. I will be a man; a free, self-ruled, and self-developed

man."

Alas, I little knew the terrible possibilities of the nature of man when

left to itself. I had no conception of its infinite weakness with regard

to what is good, or its fearful capabilities with regard to what is bad.

I had no idea of the infinite amount of evil that lay concealed in the

human heart, ready, when unrepressed, to unfold itself, and take all

horrible forms of vice and folly. I indulged myself in my mad

experiments of unlimited freedom till appalled by the melancholy

results. I did not become _all_ that unchecked license could make me;

but I became so different a creature from what I had anticipated, that I

saw the madness of my resolution, and recoiled. I came to the verge of

all evil. God had mercy on me and held me back in spite of my impiety,

or I should have become a monster of iniquity. Man was not made for

unlimited liberty. He was made for subjection to the Divine will, and

for obedience to God's law. He was made for fellowship with the good

among his fellow-men, and for submission to Christian discipline. He can

become good and great and happy only by faith in God and Christ, by

self-denial, by good society, by careful moral and religious culture,

and by constant prayer and dependence on God. I now no longer say, "I

will be a _man_;" but, "Let me be a Christian." I no longer say, "I will

be all that my nature, working unchecked, will make me;" but, "Let me

be all that Christ and Christianity can make me. Let me check all

tempers at variance with the mind of Christ; and all tendencies at

variance with His precepts. Let the mouth of that fearful abyss which

lies deep down in my nature be closed, and let the infernal fires that

smoulder there be utterly smothered; and let the love of God and the

love of man reign in me, producing a life of Christ-like piety and

beneficence. Let all I have and all I am be a sacrifice to God in

Christ, and used in the cause of truth and righteousness for the welfare

of mankind."

The enemy of man has many devices. In my case, as in the case of so many

others, he transformed himself into "an angel of light." He did not say,

"Give up your work: forsake Christ; desert His Church; indulge your

appetites; give yourself to selfish, sensual pleasure; free yourself

from religious restraint, from moral control, from scruples of

conscience, and live for gain, or fame, or power." On the contrary; his

counsel was, "Perfect your creed; perfect your knowledge; reform the

Church; expose its corruptions; reform the ministry; expose its errors;

go back to the simplicity of Christ; return to the order of the ancient

Church; pay no regard to prevailing sentiments, or to established

customs; begin anew. Resolve on perfection; it is attainable; be content

with nothing less. Assert your rights. Be true. Prove all things; hold

fast to what is good, but cast away whatever you find to be evil. Call

no one master but Christ; and what Christ requires, ask no one but

yourself. Be true to your own conscience. God has called you to restore

the Church to its purity, to its simplicity, to its ancient power. Be

faithful, and fear no opposition. Free inquiry must lead to truth, and

truth is infinitely desirable. Assail error; assail men's inventions;

spare nothing but what is of God. It is God's own work you are doing; it

is the world's salvation for which you are laboring; and God's own

Spirit will guide you, and His power will keep you from harm." All this

was true; but it was truth without the needful accompaniment of pious

caution. It was true, but it was truth without the needful amount of

humility, of meekness, of gentleness, and of self-distrust. It was

truth, but it was truth put in such a form as to do the work of

falsehood. It was an appeal to pride, to self-conceit, to

self-sufficiency. It was truth presented in such a shape, as to abate

the sense of my dependence on God; as to make me forgetful of my own

imperfections; as to exclude from my mind all thoughts of danger, and so

prepare me for mistakes, mishaps, and ultimately ruin. It is not enough

to aim at good objects: we must be humble; we must be sensible that our

sufficiency is of God; we must be conscious of our own weakness, of our

own imperfections, and of our own danger, and move with care, and

watchfulness, and prayer. We must not please ourselves with thoughts of

the wonders we will achieve, of the services we will render to the

world, and of the honor we shall gain; but cherish the feeling that God

is all, and be content that He alone shall be glorified. We are but

earthen vessels; the excellency of the power is of God.

O my poor soul, how do I grieve when I think of thy early dreams, and of

thy sad awakening. Like Adam, I lived in a Paradise of bliss, suspecting

no evil, and dreading no change. I had been trained to piety from my

earliest years. The Bible was my delight. Christ and Christianity were

my glory and joy. The Church was my home. To preach the Gospel, to

defend God's cause, and to labor for the salvation of the world, were

the delight of my life. I was successful. I was popular. I had many

friends, and was passionately beloved. Wherever I went, men hailed me as

their spiritual father. The chapels in which I preached were crowded to

their utmost capacity, and men regarded me as the champion of

Christianity. They applauded my labors in its behalf, and testified

their esteem and admiration by unmistakable signs. At one time I might

have applied to myself the words of Job, "When the ear heard me, then it

blessed me; and when the eye saw me, it gave witness to me. The young

men saw me, and gave me reverence; and the aged arose and stood up. Unto

me men gave ear, and waited; and kept silence at my counsel. They waited

for my words as for the showers; and opened their mouths as for the

latter rain. I chose out their way, and sat chief, and dwelt as a king

in the army, as one that comforteth the mourners." And everything

seemed to foretell a continuance of my happy lot. My prejudices and my

convictions, my tastes and my affections, my habits and my inclinations,

my interests and my family, all joined to bind me to the cause of Christ

by the strongest bonds. And I seemed as secure to others as to myself.

Hence I looked forward to a life of ever-increasing usefulness,

reflecting credit on my family and friends, and conferring blessings on

mankind at large. I revelled in hopes of a reformed Church, and a

regenerated world; and, passing the bounds of time, my spirit exulted in

the prospect of a glorious immortality. Yet "when I looked for good then

evil came; and when I waited for light there came darkness." I fell

away. My happy thoughts, my joyous hopes, my delightful prospects, all

vanished. I underwent a most melancholy transformation. The eyes that

gazed on me with affectionate rapture, now stared at me with affright

and terror; and brave, stout men wept over me like children. The light

of my life was extinguished. My dwelling was in darkness. "I was a

brother to dragons, and a companion to owls." And there was nothing

before me but the dreary prospect of a return to nothingness. And can

you, my young friends, dream of safety with facts like these in view?

Again, I say, be on your guard. An easy, dreamy self-security is the

extreme of madness. Our only safety is in watchfulness and prayer. Our

only sufficiency is of God.

"O, never suffer me to sleep

Secure within the reach of hell;

But still my watchful spirit keep

In lowly awe and loving zeal:

And bless me with a godly fear,

And plant that guardian angel here."

2. The second lesson I would name is this: It is dangerous to allow bad

feeling to get into your hearts towards your Christian friends, or your

brother ministers. It is especially dangerous to allow it to remain

there. It works like the infection of the plague. Try therefore to keep

your minds in a calm and comfortable state towards all with whom you

have to do. Guard against rash judgments and groundless suspicions; or

you may take offence when no offence is meant. But even when people do

you harm on purpose, it is best to be forbearing. We never know the

force of temptation under which men act; or the misconceptions under

which they labor. We may ourselves have caused their misdoings by some

unconscious error of our own. It is well to suspect ourselves sometimes

of unknown faults, and to go on the supposition that what appears

unkindness in others towards us, may be the result of some unguarded

word or inconsiderate action on our part towards them. 2. Keep your

hearts as full as possible of Christian love. The more abundant your

love, the less will be your liability either to give or take offence. 3.

And do not overrate the importance of men's misconduct towards you. We

are not so much in the power of others as we are prone to imagine. The

world is governed by God, and no one can hurt us against His will. Do

that which is right, and you and your interests are secure. So take

things comfortably. And try to overcome evil with good. And if you find

the task a hard one, seek help from God.

3. Another lesson which I have learned on my way through life is, that

it is dangerous to indulge a spirit of controversy. There may be

occasions when controversy is a duty; but it is best, as a rule, just to

state what you believe to be the truth, and leave it to work its way in

silence. If people oppose it, misrepresent it, or ridicule it, then

state it again at the proper time, with becoming meekness and

gentleness, and then commit it to the care of its great Patron. It is

difficult to run into controversy without falling into sin. Men need to

be very wise and good to be able to go through a controversy honorably

and usefully; and by the time they are qualified for the dangerous work,

they prefer more peaceful employment. Controversy always tends to

produce excess of warmth, and warmth of a dangerous kind. It often

degenerates into a quarrel, and ends in shame. Men go from principles to

personalities; and instead of seeking each other's instruction, try only

to humble and mortify each other. They begin perhaps with a love of

truth, but they end with a struggle for victory. They try to deal fairly

at the outset, but become unscrupulous at last, and say or do anything

that seems likely to harass or injure their opponents. The beginning of

strife is like the letting out of water from a reservoir; there is first

a drop, then a trickle, then a headlong rushing torrent, bearing down

all before it, and sweeping away men and their works to destruction. It

is best, therefore, to take the advice of the proverb, and "leave off

contention before it be meddled with."

4. Another lesson that I have learnt on my way through life is, that

ministers should deal very tenderly with their younger brethren. They

should teach them, so far as they are able, and check them when they see

them doing anything really wrong; but they should never interfere

needlessly with their spiritual freedom. Young men of mind and

conscience _will_ think. They will test their creeds by the Sacred

Oracles, and endeavor to bring them into harmony with the teachings of

Christ and His Apostles. And it is right they should. It is their duty,

as they have opportunity, to "prove all things." And few young men, of

any considerable powers, can compare the creeds which they receive in

their childhood with the teachings of Sacred Scripture, without coming

to the conclusion, that on some points they are erroneous, and on others

defective; that on some subjects they contain too much, and on others

too little. And good young men will naturally feel disposed to lay aside

what they regard as erroneous, and to accept what presents itself to

their minds as true. In some cases they will make mistakes. The only men

that never think wrong, are those who never think at all. There never

was a child born into the world that learned to walk without stumbling

occasionally, and at times even falling outright. And there never was a

spiritual child that learned to travel in the paths of religious

investigation, without falling at times into error. But what is to be

done on such occasions? What does the mother do when her baby falls?

Does she run and kick the poor little creature, and say, "You naughty,

dirty tike, if ever you try to walk again, I will throw you into the

gutter?" On the contrary, she runs and catches up the dear little thing;

and if it has hurt itself, she kisses the place to make it well, and

says, "Try again, my darling; try again." And it _does_ try again: and

in course of time it learns to walk as steadily as its mother; and when

she begins to stagger under the infirmities of age, it takes her hand,

and steadies her goings.

And so it should be in spiritual matters. When a good young man falls

into error, we should treat him with the tenderness and affection of a

mother. "We were gentle among you," says Paul to the Thessalonians,

"even as a nurse cherisheth her children." And this is the example that

we should follow towards our younger brethren. Whether we would keep

them from erring, or bring them back when they go astray, we should

treat them tenderly.... We should try to win their love and confidence.

Men can often be led, when they cannot be driven. There are numbers who,

if you attempt to drive them, will run the contrary way; who, if you

treat them with respect, and show them that you love them, will follow

you where-ever you may go.

But you must give them time. They cannot always come right all at once.

When a fisherman angles for large fish, he provides himself with a

flexible, elastic rod, and a good long length of line; and when he has

hooked his prey, he gives it the line without stint, and allows it to

dart to and fro, and plunge and flounder at pleasure, till it has tired

itself well, and then he brings it to the bank with ease. If he were to

attempt to drag the fish to the shore at once, by main force, it would

snap his rod, or break his line, and get away into the deep; and he

would lose both his fish and his tackle. And so it is in the world of

mind. When we have to do with vigorous and active-minded young men, we

must allow their intellects a little play. We must wait till they begin

to feel their weakness. We must place a little confidence in them, and

give them a chance both of finding out their deficiencies, and of

developing their strength.

It would not be amiss if elder preachers could go on the supposition

that they are not quite perfect or infallible themselves,--that it is

possible that their brethren may discover some truth in Scripture, that

has not yet found its way into their creed; or detect some error in

their creed, that has lurked there unsuspected for ages. And they ought

to be willing to learn, as well as disposed to teach.

But in any case, if our studious young brethren miss their way

sometimes, we must be kind and gentle towards them, and in our endeavors

to save them, must proceed with care. Deal harshly with them, and you

drive them into heresy or unbelief. Deal gently and lovingly with them,

and you bring them back to the truth. How often the disciples of Jesus

erred with regard to the nature of His kingdom, and the means by which

it was to be established. Yet how patiently He bore with them. And in

this, as in other things, He has left us an example that we should tread

in His steps. The sun keeps the planets within their spheres, and even

brings back the comets from their far-off wanderings, by the gentle

power of attraction. And the Sun of Righteousness keeps His spiritual

planets in their orbits, and brings from the blackness of darkness the

stars that wander, by the same sweet power. And the secondary lights of

the world must keep their satellites in their orbits, and bring back to

their spheres the stars that fall or lose their way, by kindred

influences. The mightiest and divinest power in the universe is

LOVE.

5. And now comes a lesson to the young thinkers. Suppose your elder

brethren should treat you unkindly; suppose they should discourage your

search after truth, and require you to conform your creed to their own

ideas, and your way of speaking to their own old style of expression;

suppose that they should look with suspicion on your endeavors to come

nearer to the truth, and, whenever you give utterance to a thought or an

expression at variance with their own, should denounce you as heretics,

and threaten you with excommunication, what should you do?

We answer, go quietly on in the fear of the Lord. Make no complaint, but

prepare yourselves for expulsion. When expelled, go quietly to some

Church that can tolerate your freedom, and work there in peace as the

servants of God. Cherish no resentment. Commit your cause to God, and,

laboring to do His will, leave Him to choose your lot.

Even the trials that come from the ignorance or wickedness of men, are

of God's appointment. We are taught that it was by God's ordination

that Judas betrayed Christ; that God employed the wickedness of the

traitor for the accomplishment of His great designs. David said,

referring to Shimei, "Let him curse, for God hath commanded him." God

employed the wickedness of Shimei, to try and punish David. Wesley has

embodied the sentiment in one of his hymns, as follows:

"Lord, I adore Thy gracious will;

Through every instrument of ill

My Father's goodness see:

Accept the complicated wrong

Of Shimei's hand, and Shimei's tongue,

As kind rebukes from Thee."

Joseph said, God had sent him down to Egypt to save many souls alive.

His wicked brethren were only the instruments of his banishment. _They_

meant it for _evil_, _God_ turned it to _good_. And so in your case: God

may be using the ignorance or the wickedness of your persecutors to

separate you from a body for which you are not fitted, and to place you

in one where you will be more useful and more happy. When we do right,

God will make the errors, and even the sins of our enemies, work for our

good.

6. Another lesson which I have thoroughly learnt is, that though men may

become unbelievers through other causes than vice, they cannot continue

unbelievers without spiritual and moral loss. The inevitable tendency of

infidelity is to debase men's souls. And here I speak not on the

testimony of others merely, but from extensive observation and personal

experience. I have known numbers whom infidelity has degraded, but none

whom it has elevated. We do not say that every change in a Christian's

belief is demoralizing. Disbelief in error, resulting from increase of

knowledge, may improve his character; but the loss of faith in Christ,

and God, and immortality, can never do otherwise than strengthen a man's

tendencies to vice, and weaken his inclinations towards virtue. When

infidels say that their unbelief has made them more virtuous, they

attach different ideas to the word virtuous from those which Christians

attach to it. They call evil good, and good evil. The secularists call

fornication and adultery virtue. But this is fraud. That infidelity is

unfavorable to what men generally call virtue, and friendly to what men

generally call vice, infidels themselves know. Their passions and

prejudices may make them doubt the bad influence of their unbelief for a

time, but not long. I myself questioned the downward tendency of

infidelity in my own case for a time, but facts proved too strong for me

in the end. My friends could see a deterioration both in my temper and

conduct. And there was a falling off in my zeal and labors for the good

of mankind from the first. There was a falling off even in my talents.

There was a greater tendency to self-indulgence. It was owing to the

still lingering influence of my early faith, and of my early Christian

tastes and habits, that I was no worse. The virtue which I retained I

owed to the religion on which I had unhappily turned my back. When

unbelievers are moral, they are so, not in consequence, but in spite of

their unbelief. When Christian believers are bad, they are so, not in

consequence, but in spite of their religion. Infidelity tends to destroy

conscience. It annihilates the great motives to virtue. It strengthens

the selfish and weakens the benevolent affections and tendencies of our

nature, and smoothes the road to utter depravity. The farther men wander

from Christ, and the longer they remain away, the nearer they approach

to utter degeneracy.

It seldom happens that men who have lived long under the influence of

Christianity, become grossly immoral as soon as they lose their faith:

but they decline in virtue from the first, and utter depravation comes

in time. I have seen a tree growing prostrate on the ground, when many

of its roots had been torn up from the soil; but it grew very poorly;

and the growth it made was owing to the hold which the remainder of its

roots still had on the soil. The branch that is cut off from the tree

may retain a portion of its sap, and show some signs of languishing life

for weeks; but it dies at length. And so with the branches cut off from

the spiritual vine; they gradually wither and decay. The iron taken

white hot from the furnace, does not get cool at once; but it gradually

comes down to the temperature of the atmosphere with which it is

surrounded. The prodigal did not get through his share of his father's

property in a day, but he found himself perishing of hunger at length. A

man does not die the moment he ceases to eat, but he _will_ die if he

_persists_ in his abstinence. A man may live in an unhealthy district,

and breathe unwholesome air for some time, without apparent injury; but

disease will show itself in the end. It is not uncharitableness that

makes us speak thus, but charity itself. It is desirable, that both

believers and unbelievers should know the truth on this important

subject. Infidelity is the enemy of all virtue, and consequently of all

happiness; and it is necessary that this should be generally and

thoroughly known, and that the old-fashioned prejudice against it should

be allowed to keep its ground, and remain as strong as ever. And

Christians must show their charity towards unbelievers, not by abating

men's horror of infidelity, but by endeavoring to deliver them from its

deadly power.

7. And here comes another lesson. Do not suppose that unbelievers are

irreclaimable. There is always good ground to hope for the conversion of

those unbelievers who retain a respect for virtue, if they are properly

treated; and even those who are sunk in vice should not be abandoned in

despair. Several of those who have returned to Christ during the last

ten years, were men who had gone far in various forms of wickedness. And

many of those converts from infidelity of whom we read in old religious

books, were persons of immoral character. And though habits of vice are

not easily broken off, yet the miseries they entail on men may rouse

them to more vigorous efforts for their deliverance. And it sometimes

happens that those who are poor in promise, are rich in performance. You

remember the Saviour's parable of the two sons. The Father said to the

first, "Son, go work to-day in my vineyard." And he answered and said,

"I will not," but afterwards he repented and went. And the father said

to the second, "Go." And he answered and said, "I go, Sir," and went

not. And this, said Christ, is what takes place between Me and mankind.

I say to the fair-seeming people, "Give yourselves to God;" and they

answer, "We will, Lord," but still live on in selfishness and sin. I

say to abandoned profligates, "Give yourselves to God;" and they answer,

"We will not;" but on thinking the matter over, they repent and live to

God. Harlots and publicans enter the kingdom of God, while scribes and

pharisees remain without. The oyster, if you look at its outward

covering, is a "hard case;" yet within, it is soft and tender in the

extreme. The ugliest caterpillar is but an undeveloped butterfly, and in

time, if placed under favorable influences, may leave its crawling, and

mount aloft on wings of gold and silver. And it often happens that the

worst children make the best men. The fiercest persecutor of the early

Church became the chief of the Apostles. He was honest when dragging the

saints to prison; and all that was wanted to make him a preacher of the

faith which he labored so madly to destroy, was LIGHT.

And so it is still. Some of the most unhappy and unpromising of men and

women may require but a gentle word, a glimmer of light, or a

manifestation of your kind concern for their welfare, to win their

hearts to God. It does not appear that any of the early Christians

supposed that there was anything good in the heart of Saul the

persecutor, and nothing is said of any attempt on their part to convince

him of his error. And many, even when they heard he was converted, could

not believe the story. And even Ananias, when told by God Himself that

the converted persecutor was praying, could not get over his fears and

suspicions all at once. When God said, "Go, and help the poor man,"

Ananias answered, "Lord, I have heard by many of this man, how much evil

he hath done to Thy saints at Jerusalem." But the Lord said unto him,

"Go thy way, haste to his help, for he is a chosen vessel unto Me, to

bear My name before the Gentiles, and to kings, and to the children of

Israel." At last Ananias went his way, and visited the praying penitent.

But even after this, when Paul had been preaching for some time with

great success, and had made the greatest sacrifices, and braved even

death itself, in the cause of Christ, there were numbers who doubted his

sincerity. "When he went to Jerusalem, and attempted to join himself to

the disciples, they were all afraid of him, and did not believe that he

_was_ a disciple." Barnabas however, good man, took him by the hand, and

succeeded at length in obtaining for him, to some extent, the advantages

of Church fellowship.

Here then we have a couple of lessons; the first is, to seek the

conversion of unbelievers; the second is, to guard against an excess of

skepticism in ourselves with regard to the sincerity of those who appear

to be converted. It would be well in forming our judgments of persons

professing religion, to follow the rule laid down by Christ, "By their

fruits ye shall know them. A good tree cannot bring forth bad fruit, nor

a bad tree good fruit." If men live soberly, righteously, and godly--if

they make great sacrifices, and incur reproach and persecution for

Christ, and labor zealously in His cause, it is no great stretch of

charity to go on the supposition, that their profession of faith in God

and Christ is sincere.

8. But suppose the churches should treat a convert from infidelity as

the church at Jerusalem treated Paul, what should he do? We would say,

Take all quietly, and go zealously on with your work. You are the

servant of God, and not of man; and you must not desert your Master,

because a number of His servants err in their judgment of you, or show,

in their conduct towards you, a lack of charity. Serve your Redeemer all

the more faithfully. This was the course which Paul took. He "increased

the more in strength;" and he abounded the more in labors. It would be a

poor excuse for the neglect of your duty to God and Christ, to

yourselves and your fellow creatures, to say, "The churches did not

treat us as kindly as they ought; they doubted our sincerity." Such

conduct would not only be exceedingly wicked, but extremely foolish. It

would be the surest way to confirm the doubts of the churches, and make

them feel, that in treating you coldly, they had acted wisely. The

surest way to gain the confidence of the Church, is not to care too much

about it. If you show that you are satisfied with the favor of God, and

with your own sweet consciousness of the happy change you have

experienced, everything else will come in its season. Goodness will draw

after it the reputation of goodness. The shadow will follow the

substance. And whether it does or not, your duty is to be resigned and

cheerful. A man that has really been converted from infidelity to

Christianity, will be so happy, and will feel so thankful for the

blessed change, if he appreciates it as he ought, that he will hardly

care whether he has the favor and confidence of his brethren or not.

There is no intimation that the returned Prodigal looked black at his

father, and threatened to go back again into the far country, because

his elder brother refused to join in his welcome home. The probability

is, that he felt so ashamed of his sin and folly, so overpowered with

the tenderness of his father, and so happy to find himself at home

again, that he never inquired whether other people were satisfied or

not. The father noticed the unhappiness of his elder son, and sought to

soothe and comfort him; but the younger son was occupied with other

thoughts; and having suffered long the grievous pangs of hunger, he

would, for a time at least, be busy at the table, speculating in

raptures, it may be, on the difference between the flesh of "the fatted

calf," and "the husks that the swine did eat."

It is, in one respect, an advantage to the converted unbeliever to be

treated by the Church with shyness. It affords him an opportunity of

proving his attachment to Christ and Christianity, in a way in which he

could not prove it, if every one welcomed him with demonstrations of

affection, and signs of joy. None are so slow to believe in the

sincerity of a converted infidel as infidels themselves; and to be able

to give to his old associates a proof so decisive of the genuineness of

his change, and of the value he puts on Christianity, will be regarded

by the convert as a privilege of no light value. And it is fit and

proper, as well as better for the convert, that he should be reminded of

his former weakness, and incited to watchfulness and humility, by the

pain of some kind of life-long disadvantage.

9. Let no one expect to get through the world without trouble. The thing

is not possible. Nor is it desirable. We _need_ a little trouble now and

then to keep us awake; and God will take care that we have it. We had

better therefore look for it, and when it comes, bear it patiently. It

is no use fretting or fuming; it only makes things worse. When we are

restless under little troubles, God sends us greater ones; and if our

impatience continues, he sends us greater still. And there is no remedy.

An eel may wriggle itself "out of the frying-pan, into the fire;" but it

cannot wriggle itself back again out of the fire, even into the

frying-pan. And so it is with us. We may wriggle ourselves out of one

little trouble, into two greater ones; but we cannot wriggle ourselves

back again out of the two greater ones, into the little one. The longer

we resist the will of God, the worse we shall fare. We had better

therefore bear the ills we have, than plunge into others that we know

not of. It is best to submit at once. If we were wise we should say with

the Redeemer, "The cup that My Father giveth me, shall I not drink it?"

God knows what is best for us, and He will never inflict on us a pang

which He does not see to be necessary to our usefulness and welfare. It

is not for His own pleasure that He afflicts us, but for our profit,

that we may be partakers of His holiness.

And sorrow is the seed of joy. And pain adds to the sweetness of our

pleasures. Hunger sweetens our food, and thirst our drink, and weariness

our moments of rest; and "our light afflictions, which are but for a

moment, work out for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of

glory."

We are quite mistaken when we look at our trials as unmixed evils. They

"are blessings in disguise." The dripping clouds which hide the sun,

enrich the earth. The difficulties with which we have to contend,

increase our strength. The tail of the kite, which seems to pull it

down, helps it to rise. And the afflictions, which seem to press us to

the ground, help to raise us to heaven.

Let us take our lot with meekness then, and learn in all things to say

to our Heavenly Father, "Thy will be done."

10. Join the Church. The Church is an institution of Heaven, and

connection with it is necessary to your spiritual safety. Some think

they can stand alone; but when they make the attempt, they fall. No one

can stand, who does not use the means which God has given him for his

support; and one of those means is fellowship with the Church. Without

civil society men gradually sink into barbarism; and without religious

society Christians sink into earthliness and impiety.

Some of the sweetest and most beautiful of our flowering shrubs, and

some of the richest of our fruit-bearing trees, are unable to raise

themselves from the ground without the assistance of their stronger

kindred. This is the case with the honeysuckle, the ivy, and the grape

vine. Left to themselves on the open plain, they sprawl upon the ground,

choked with the grass, and cropped and trampled on by beasts, until at

length they perish. But placed in woods or hedgerows, they clasp with

their living tendrils, or embrace with their whole bodies, their

vigorous neighbors, climb to the light and sunshine by their aid,

display their blossoms, and bear their rich delicious fruit in full

perfection. And we are like these trees. We must have support from

others, or perish.

This is not all. Even the stoutest and strongest trees, such as the oak,

the ash, and the sycamore, do best in company. Plant those trees in

groves, and guard them from the crushing steps and greedy maws of

cattle, and they grow up tall, and straight, and smooth. They shield

each other from the stormy winds, and they show a sort of silent

emulation, each raising its head as high as possible, to catch the

freshest air and the fullest streams of light. But plant one of those

trees alone in the open field, and leave it unfenced and unguarded, and

the probability is, it will perish. If it should escape destruction, its

growth will be retarded, and its form will be disfigured. It will have

neither size nor comeliness. It will be cropped by the cattle, and bent

and twisted by the winds; it will be stunted and dwarfed, crooked and

mis-shapen, knotted and gnarled, neither pleasant to the eye, nor good

for timber. Not one in a thousand would ever become a tall, a straight,

and a majestic tree.

Mr. Darwin says, that on some large tracts on which, while they were

unenclosed and unprotected, there was not a tree to be seen, there soon

appeared, after the land was enclosed by a fence, a countless multitude

of fine Scotch firs. The seeds of these trees had been sown by some

means, and they had germinated, and the embryo trees had sprung up; but

the cattle had cropped the tender shoots, or crushed and trampled them

down, and not one had been able to raise its head above the grass or

heather. On looking down and searching carefully among the heather, he

found in one square yard of ground, no fewer than thirty-two small

trees, one of which had been vainly trying to raise its head above the

heather for six and twenty years. After this tract of land had been

enclosed for awhile, it was covered thick with a countless multitude of

fine young trees. And so it is with Christians. Leave them in the open

common of the world, and they gradually come down to a level with the

tastes and manners of the world. Place them within the guarded

enclosures of the Church, and they rise to the dignity and glory of

saints. "He that walketh with wise men shall be wise; but a companion of

fools shall be destroyed." Hence "the Lord added to the Church daily

such as should be saved."

When you get into the Church, stay there as long as you honestly can;

and honor it by a truly Christian life; and aid it by your labors; and

support it liberally with your money. The best spent money in the world

is that which is employed in promoting the spread of Christianity. And

try to live in peace both with your pastor and your fellow-members. Obey

the rules. Do not dream of unlimited liberty; you cannot have it; and it

would do you no good if you could, but harm. And unlimited liberty for

one, would be slavery or martyrdom for the rest. Judge the Church and

your pastors charitably, as you would like to be judged yourself. Expect

to find imperfections in them, and make as much allowance for them as

you can, that they may be led to make allowances for the imperfections

they find in you. Look more at the good that is in your brethren than at

the evil; it will cause you to love them the more, and make you feel

happier in their company. If any of them be overtaken in a fault, try to

restore them, in the spirit of meekness. And let the mishaps of your

brethren remind you that _you_ too are exposed to temptation.

Calculate on meeting with trials or unpleasantnesses in the Church

occasionally; for offences are sure to come. Churches are made up of

men, and men are full of imperfections, so that misunderstandings, and

even misdoings at times, are inevitable. You may be misjudged or

undervalued. There will be differences of tastes and opinions, and even

clashings of interest, between you and your brethren. And trials may

come from quarters from which you could never have expected them, and of

a kind that you could not possibly anticipate. But make up your minds,

by the help of God, to bear all patiently. Remember how God has borne

with you; and consider what Jesus suffered from the weaknesses, the

errors, and the sins of men; and how meekly and patiently He endured.

And understand that others may have to bear with as many

unpleasantnesses from you, as you have to bear with from them. You may

misunderstand or undervalue others, as much as they misunderstand or

undervalue you. And others may be as much disappointed in you, as you

are in them. And you may try their patience, as much as they try yours.

We know when we are hurt by others, but we do not always know when

others are hurt by us. And we can see the defects of others, when we

cannot see our own. And we should consider, that _they_ will know when

they are hurt by us, when they may not know that we are hurt by them;

and that _they_ will be able to see our imperfections, when they will be

quite unconscious of their own. And if we would not have them to make

too much of _our_ defects and blunders, we must not make too much of

_theirs_. If they can bear with _us_, we must learn to bear with _them_,

and think ourselves well off to have things settled so. If we could see

ourselves as God sees us, we might be more astonished that others should

be able to bear with us, than that we should be required to bear with

them.

And the trials we meet with in the Church will do us good, if we look at

them in a proper light, and receive them in a proper spirit. They will

reveal to us the defects of our brethren, and draw us to labor for their

improvement. And in laboring for the improvement of others, we shall

improve ourselves.

And the unpleasant friction which takes place between us and our

brethren, will only tend to smoothe the ruggedness of our temper, and

rub off the unevennesses of our character, provided we can keep

ourselves from impatience and resentment. In going along the course of a

brook or a river, you sometimes come upon a bend, where you find a heap

of smooth and nicely rounded pebble stones thrown up. Did you ever ask

yourselves how these pebbles came to be so round and smooth? When broken

off from their respective rocks, they were as irregular in form, they

had as sharp corners, and as rough, and ragged, and jagged edges, and

were altogether as ugly and unsightly things as any fragments of rocks

you ever looked upon. But they got into the water, and the stream rolled

them along, and rubbed them gently one against another, and this was the

way they came to be so round and smooth. There is no doubt, that if the

stones could have talked, and if they had had no more sense than we

have, whenever they found that their neighbor stones were rubbing them,

they would have screamed out, "Oh! how you scratch;" never dreaming that

they were scratching the other stones just as much at the same time. But

fortunately the stones could not talk; and though they had not so much

sense as we have, they had less nonsense, and that served them as

well--so they took their rubbing quietly; and hence the smoothness of

their surface, and the beauty of their shape. Now here we are, living

stones in the great stream of time, tumbled about and rubbed one against

another. Let us take our rubbing patiently, and give ourselves a chance

of getting rid of our unevennesses, and of being brought to a comely

shape. Have patience, my friends. The trouble will not continue long.

When we have got our proper shape, God will remove us to our proper

places in that living temple which He is building in the heavens, and

our rubbing will be at an end for ever.

When I was first invited by the Primitive Methodists of Tunstall to

preach in their chapel, one of the class-leaders and local preachers in

the circuit threw up his plan, and sent in his class-book, saying he

would not belong to a society that would allow Joseph Barker to preach

in their pulpits. He was under a wrong impression with regard to my

views. One of the Tunstall travelling preachers went to see him, and

told him that he was laboring under a mistake, and advised him to take

back his class-book and plan. "Come," said he, "and have a little talk

with Mr. Barker." He came, and found he had been mistaken. "Forgive

me," said he. "I cannot," said I; "you have committed no offence. I will

save my pardons till you do something really wicked." "Then let us

pray," said he; and we knelt down, and prayed for one another, and we

all felt better. He came that night to hear me lecture. The subject was

THE CHURCH. I spoke of the unpleasantnesses with which we

sometimes meet from our brethren, and while exhorting my hearers to take

their trials patiently, I used the illustration I have given here. The

old man sat on my left in the front of the gallery, and was much

excited. He wept. At length, unable any longer to restrain his feelings,

he cried aloud, "Glory; Hallelujah; I'll stop and be rubbed." He did

stop. But he had not much more rubbing to endure. In less than twelve

months, on retiring one night to rest, in his usual health, he passed

away suddenly, and peacefully, to his rest in heaven. Let us "stop and

be rubbed." Better be rubbed in the Church, than thrown out into the

broad highway of the world, and broken with the strong man's hammer.

11. And now with regard to reform. It is right that we should be

reformers. There are plenty of evils both in the Church and the State,

as well as in individuals, and it is our duty to do what we can to abate

or cure them. But there is a right and a wrong way of going about the

business, and if we would avoid doing mischief while we are trying to do

good, we must proceed with care.

Reformers must learn to wait as well as to work. You cannot make

churches, or states, or even individuals, all that you would like them

to be, in a moment. You cannot make yourselves what you would like to be

as quickly as you would wish. If you are like a man that I know, you

will find the improvement of your own habits, and tempers, and manners,

a task for life. And if the change for the better is so slow in

yourselves, whom you have in your hands continually, and with whom you

can take what liberties you please, what can you expect it to be in

others? It is the law of God that things shall pass from bad to good,

and from better to best, by slow and almost imperceptible gradations.

All the great and beneficent operations of Nature are silent and slow.

Nothing starts suddenly into being; nothing arrives instantly at

perfection; nothing falls instantly into decay. The germination of the

seed, the growth of the plant, the swelling of the bud, the opening of

the flower, the ripening of the fruit, are all the results of slow and

silent operations. Still slower is the growth of the majestic forest.

And the trees of greatest worth, which supply us with our choicest and

most durable timber, have the slowest growth of all. And so it is with

things that live and move. Their growth is silent as the grave. And man,

the highest of created beings, advances to maturity most tardily of all.

Our development is so gradual, that the changes we undergo from day to

day are imperceptible. And the development of our minds is as gradual as

the growth of our bodies. We gather our knowledge a thought, a fact, a

lesson at a time. We form our character, a line, a trace, a touch a day.

Society is subject to the same law. Churches and nations are collections

of individuals, each changing slowly, and must therefore themselves

change more slowly still. You cannot force the growth of a single plant

or animal at pleasure; still less can you force at will the advancement

or improvement of society. You may change a nation's laws and

institutions suddenly, but the change will be of no service, so long as

the minds of the people remain unchanged.

All the great beneficent changes of Nature are gradual. How slowly the

darkness of the night gives place to the morning dawn, and how slowly

the grey dawn of the morning brightens into noon! How slowly the cold of

winter gives place to the warmth of spring and summer. How slowly the

seed deposited in the ground springs up, putting forth first the blade,

then the ear, and then the full ripe corn in the ear. And how slowly we

grow up from babyhood to manhood, and how slowly we pass on from early

sprightly manhood, to the sobriety and wisdom of age. And how slowly the

nations advance in science, in arts, and in commerce; in religion, and

morals, and government. And so it is in all the works of God. Even the

startling phenomena presented by the earth's surface, which earlier

philosophers supposed to be the result of violent and sudden

convulsions, are now regarded as the result of the slow and ordinary

action of natural powers. Leisurely movement is the eternal and

universal law. And it is no use complaining; you cannot alter it. You

cannot make a hen hatch her eggs in less than three weeks, do what you

will. You may crack the shells, thinking to let the chickens out a

little earlier; but you let death in, and the chickens never do come out

at all. "The more haste the less speed." I have had proof of this more

than once in my own experience. I once lived in a house terribly

infested with rats, and I wanted to get rid of them as quick as I could,

for they were a great nuisance. But, I was in too big a hurry to

succeed. One night I heard a terrible splashing in the water-tub in the

cellar. "That's a rat," said I, "I'll dispatch that, anyhow:" and I took

the lighted candle and poker, and hastened into the cellar, thinking to

kill the creature at once. When the rat saw me with candle and poker, it

made an extra spring, completely cleared the edge of the tub, and got

safe away into its hole. I was in such a hurry to kill it, that I saved

its life. When I got to it, it was drowning itself as nicely as it could

do; and if I had had patience to wait, it would have been dead in ten

minutes. But because I would not wait, and let it die quietly, it would

not die at all. And it may be living now for anything I know, and may

have bred a hundred other rats since then, and all because I would not

give it time to die in peace. There are rats everywhere still. There are

rats in the Church, rats in the State; rats in palaces, and rats in

hovels. There are rats of despotism and tyranny, rats of slavery and

war, rats of rebellion and anarchy. There are rats of superstition and

idolatry, rats of heresy and infidelity, rats of intemperance and

licentiousness. And it is right to try to kill them off. But we had

better go to work carefully. We cannot put things right in an instant.

And when wicked laws, or vicious principles have received their death

blow, we had better give them time to die in quiet. Haste and impatience

may spoil all.

12. Though unbelief may not always be a sin, it is always a great

calamity. As we have said, its tendency is always to immorality, and

immorality always tends to misery and death. Byron perished in his

prime, and his short life and his untimely death were both unhappy.

Unbelievers are seldom happy in their domestic relations. And in cutting

themselves off from God, they reduce the noblest affections of their

souls to starvation. They have no suitable exercise or gratification for

their natural instinctive gratitude, their reverence, or their love.

They have nothing in which they can securely trust. Even their family

and social affections often decline and die.

Many unbelievers are poor, and infidel poverty is always envious. The

world is a very trying one to unbelievers: hardly anything pleases them;

and nothing pleases them long. Rulers do not please them: they are

despots and tyrants. Their fellow subjects do not please them: they are

cowardly slaves. Their masters do not please them: they are

extortioners. Their men do not please them: they are knaves. The rich do

not please them: they are leeches, caterpillars, cormorants. The poor do

not please them: they are mean, deceitful and dishonest. Religion does

not please them; it is superstition: and philosophy does not please

them; it is a bore and a sham. Priests do not please them; they are

cheats: and the people do not please them; they are dupes. The climates

do not suit them: they are too hot, or too cold; too damp, or too dry;

and the seasons do not please them--they are always uncertain, and

seldom right. The world at large disgusts them: it takes the part of

their enemies. It favors the religious classes, and mocks and tortures

the infidel philosopher. Their bodies are not right; they are always

ailing, and threatening to give way: and their minds are not right; they

are never contented and at rest. There is nothing right in the present;

and there is nothing promising in the future. They think themselves the

wisest people in the world, yet people in general regard them as fools;

and they themselves can see that their fancied wisdom does not prove

their friend.

They can give no explanation of the mysteries of the universe. They

cannot account for the facts which geology reveals with regard to the

natural history of the globe. They cannot account for the mechanism of

the heavens, or the chemistry of the earth. They cannot account for

life, organization, or intelligence. They cannot account for instinct.

They cannot account for the marks of design which are everywhere visible

in Nature, nor for the numberless wonders of special arrangement and

adaptation manifest in her works. They cannot account for the difference

between man and the lower animals. Animals can indulge themselves freely

and take no harm; man cannot indulge himself freely without misery and

ruin. Animals can be happy without self-denial; man cannot. Man excels

in the gift of reason, yet commits mistakes, and perpetrates crimes,

which we look for in vain among the beasts of the field. Man, with a

thousand times more power than the brutes, and with immensely greater

capacities and opportunities for happiness, is frequently the most

miserable being on earth. On the supposition that man was made for a

different end, and endowed with a different nature from the brutes--on

the supposition that man was made for virtue, for piety, for rational,

religious self-government, for voluntary obedience to God, for the joy

of a good conscience, for heaven--in a word, on the supposition that the

Scriptural and Christian doctrine about man is true, all this is

explained; but on the infidel theory all is a torturing, maddening

mystery.

And let infidels do what they will, and say what they please, the world

at large will hold to the religious theory. Mahometans, Pagans, and

Christians all insist that man is made for higher work, and meant for a

higher destiny, than the lower animals. The Christian theory is accepted

by the highest of our race. They regard it with the deepest reverence.

The books that unfold it they regard as divine. They read them in their

families. They read them in their temples. They teach them in their

schools. They publish them in every language; they send them round the

globe. In England and America, the first of the nations, you see them

everywhere. You meet with them in hotels, in boarding-houses, at railway

stations, and on steam packets; in asylums and infirmaries; in barracks

and in prisons; in poor-houses and in palaces; in the drawing-rooms of

the wealthy, and in the hovels of the poor. The greatest scholars and

rarest geniuses devote their lives to the diffusion of their doctrines;

and there is no probability of a change. If Christianity be false, the

world is mad: if it be true, the case of the infidel is deplorable in

the extreme.

And that many portions of the Christian system _are_ true, is past

doubt. They carry the evidence of their truth on their very face. And

other portions admit of easy proof. The truth of many Christian

doctrines can be proved by experience. And the rest are probable enough.

There is nothing absurd, nothing irrational in Christianity. The

teachings of Christ are the perfection of goodness. They are the

perfection of wisdom and beauty. Even Goethe could say, "The human

race can never attain to anything higher than Christianity, as presented

in the life and teachings of its Founder." And again he says, "How much

soever spiritual culture may advance, the natural sciences broaden and

deepen, and the human mind enlarge, the world will never get beyond the

loftiness and moral culture of Christianity as it shines and glistens in

the Gospels."--_Farhenlehre_, iii. 37.

And nothing can be more true.

Look for a few moments at Christ and Christianity.

And, first, what is Christ as presented in the Gospels?

1. He is, first, holy, harmless, undefiled; a lamb without blemish and

without spot. This is the lowest trait in His character. Yet it is a

great thing for any one to remain innocent in a world like this, with a

nature like ours.

2. But He was, second, an example of the highest moral and spiritual

excellence. He was devout, pious, resigned, towards His Heavenly Father.

He was full of benevolence towards men. He did good. The happiness of

mankind was the end, and doing good the business, of His life. He had no

other object. He paid no regard to wealth, to power, to pleasure, or to

fame. He was so fixed and single in His aim, that there is no room for

mistake. To do good, to bless mankind, was His meat and drink.

3. And He did good to men's bodies as well as to their souls. While He

taught the ignorant, and reformed the bad, and comforted the penitent,

He healed the sick, gave sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, bread

to the hungry, and life to the dead.

4. He enjoined the same way of life on His disciples. "Freely ye have

received," said He, "freely give."

5. While He lived and labored for the good of all, He paid special

attention to the poor.

6. Yet He never flattered the poor, nor pandered to their prejudices or

passions. He never taught them to envy the rich, or revile the great, or

to throw the blame of their sorrows on others.

7. While kind to the poor, He was just and respectful to the rich. His

conduct to Nicodemus, to Zaccheus, to the young man that came to

question Him about the way to heaven, and to the Roman centurion, was

courteous and comely to the last degree. He was faithful, but not harsh.

8. He was good to all classes. He loved the Jews, yet He was just and

kind to the Samaritans, to the Syro-phenician woman, and to the Roman

soldier.

9. He was especially kind to women, even to the fallen ones. He showed

none of that indifference or disdain for woman that the proud barbarian

exhibits, or of that heartless contempt which the vicious sensualist

manifests. He rose alike above the selfish passions and the inveterate

prejudices of his age, and conferred on the injured sex the blessings of

freedom and dignity, of purity and blessedness.

10. He showed the tenderest regard to children. "He took them in His

arms and blessed them," and said, "Suffer little children to come unto

Me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven."

11. He was kind to the outcast. He was a friend of publicans and

sinners. He went among the lowest, the most neglected, the most

despised, the most hated and dreaded of mankind, and labored for their

salvation. The parables of the Lost Sheep, and of the Prodigal Son,

speak volumes in His praise.

12. He was always gentle, tolerant, and forgiving. He refused to bring

down fire from heaven on the villagers that had slighted Him, saying

"The Son of Man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them."

He commended the virtue of Samaritan heretics. He has nothing harsh even

for the infidel Sadducee. He complies with the unreasonable wishes of

the skeptical Thomas. He pardons Peter. He is severe with the Scribes

and Pharisees only, who made void the law of righteousness by their

traditions, and took the key of knowledge, and used it, not to open, but

to keep shut the door of the kingdom of heaven.

13. As a reformer, He went to the root of social and political evils,

and sought the reform of laws, institutions, and governments, by

laboring for the instruction and renovation of individuals.

14. He was patient as well as disinterested. He was willing to sow, and

let others reap; to labor, and let others enjoy the fruits of his

labors.

15. He formed a Church, employing the social instincts and affections of

His followers as a means of perpetuating and extending His beneficent

influence in the world.

16. He checked the impertinence, and silenced the vanity of captious

cavillers.

17. He carried the truth into markets and sea-ports, as well as taught

it in the temple and in the synagogues.

18. He had the eloquence of silence as well as of speech.

19. He could suffer as well as labor. He bore reproach and insolence,

and at last laid down His life for mankind.

20. He could make allowances even for His murderers. When they mocked

Him in His dying agonies, He could say, "Father, forgive them; they know

not what they do."

He excelled as a teacher.

1. He was very practical; seeking always to bring men to be merciful, as

their Father in Heaven is merciful.

2. He was very plain; using the simplest forms of speech, and the most

natural and touching illustrations.

3. He presented truth and duty in His parables in the most impressive

forms.

4. His doctrines about God and providence, about duty and immortality,

about right worship and the proper employment of the Sabbath; about true

greatness, and the forgiveness of injuries; about gentleness and

toleration; about meekness and humility; about purity and sincerity, as

well as on a great variety of other subjects, were the perfection of

true philosophy. His parable of the talents, His remarks on the widow

and her two mites, and on the woman and the box of ointment, showing

that nothing is required of us beyond our powers and opportunities, are

striking, instructive, and impressive in the highest degree.

5. He made it the duty of all whom He taught to instruct others. His

words, "freely ye have received, freely give;" and the sentence, "It is

more blessed to give than to receive," are among the divinest oracles

ever heard on earth.

6. He illustrated and enforced all His lessons by a consistent example.

He practised what He taught.

7. And He commanded His disciples to do the same. "Let your light so

shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your

Father which is in heaven."

8. There can be nothing juster or kinder than His great rule, "All

things whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so

unto them."

9. His doctrine that God will treat men as they treat each other, is

most striking and important. "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall

obtain mercy." "With what judgment ye judge ye shall be judged; and with

what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again." "If ye forgive

men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will forgive you your

trespasses; but if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will

your heavenly Father forgive you your trespasses."

10. His remarks on riches and poverty, on honor and reproach, on

suffering and glory, though regarded by some with shyness and distrust,

contain a world of important truth.

11. His lessons on spiritual or religious freedom, on self-denial, on

the true mark of discipleship, on the great judgment, on the future of

Christianity, and on the heavenly felicity, are all remarkable for their

wisdom, and for their purifying and ennobling tendency.

But it would require volumes to do Christ and His doctrine justice. And

I feel as if I were wronging the Saviour to speak of His worth and

doctrine, when I have neither time nor space duly to set forth their

transcendent excellency. Every peculiar trait in His character that I

have named, deserves a treatise to present it in all its importance and

glory; and I, alas, can give but a sentence or two to each.[A]

But Christ has our devoutest love and gratitude, and our profoundest

reverence. And the more we contemplate Him, the more constrained we feel

to regard Him, not only as the perfection of all human excellence, but

as the revelation and incarnation of the eternal God. And we feel it a

great honor and unspeakable privilege to be permitted to bear His name,

to belong to His party, and to labor in His cause. We are indebted to

Him for everything that gives value to our existence, and we give Him,

in return, with cheerfulness and gladness, our heart, our life, our all.

Ah, why did I so late Thee know,

Thee, lovelier than the sons of men?

Ah, why did I no sooner go

To Thee, the only ease in pain?

Ashamed I sigh, and inly mourn

That I so late to Thee did turn.

[A] Since the above was written we have published a book

entitled JESUS: A PORTRAIT. Look at it.

CONCLUDING REMARKS.

1. While the tendency of infidelity is to make men miserable, it is the

tendency of Christianity to make men happy. When I was living at

Burnley, an infidel came to me one morning and said, "Barker, we may say

what we will, but those Ranters, (meaning the Primitive Methodists) are

the happiest men alive. There is one lives next to me, and he sings all

the day long. He gets up singing and goes to bed singing." They _are_

the happiest men alive. And real Christians of all denominations are

happy.

2. Some time after my return to Christianity, I spent a few days in the

house of a Primitive Methodist, a farmer, on the Cheshire Hills. I

seemed in Paradise. The master and the mistress were cheerful and kind,

and the daughters and girls were almost continually singing delightful

Christian melodies while busy at their work. One moment they were

singing of a BEAUTIFUL STREAM, and then of a HAPPY LAND. One would

begin, "Jesus, Lover of my soul"--and when that was finished, another

would begin with, "When I can read my title clear, to mansions in the

skies,"--and the singing and the work went on together all the day. It

was heaven. And a thousand such facts might be given.

3. My own experience is in harmony with these facts. My return to Christ

made me happy beyond measure. It brought me enjoyments, transports, to

which, for years, I had been an utter stranger. The fact is, for a long

time the worth of my life was well-nigh gone. I lived, because I felt I

_ought_ to live, for the sake of those who were dear to me. But for

myself, the light and joy of my life seemed gone for ever. My existence

was a long dark struggle with crushing destiny. Though naturally

hopeful, I was made to feel the bitterness of blank despair. I had

moments of relief, but I had weeks of gloom and despondency. Now all is

changed. I have moments of sadness and depression; but weeks and months

of joy and gladness. I see the universe in an entirely different light.

And instead of murmuring at Nature as cruel, I adore a gracious and

merciful God. Of my errors and misdoings I must always feel ashamed, and

a consciousness of them must for ever tend to make me sad at times; yet

notwithstanding all drawbacks, I have enjoyed more satisfaction, more

real happiness, a hundred times over, during the last twelve months,

than I enjoyed during the whole period of my alienation from God. The

simple-hearted Christian knows what he says, when he tells you "There's

something in religion." It has a power and a blessedness altogether

different from anything else under heaven. Knowledge is sweet, and love

is sweet, and power and victory are sweet; but religion--the religion of

Christ--is sweeter, infinitely sweeter than all. It is the life and

blessedness of the soul. It is its greatness, its strength, its glory:

its joy, its paradise, its heaven.

4. If the churches abound with defects, the cause is in humanity, and

not in Christianity. Men are not imperfect because they are Christians,

but because they are not Christian enough. The worst men are the

farthest from Christianity, and the best are nearest to it. And the

worst creeds are the least Christian, and the best are the most

Christian. And Christianity is better than the best. There is not a

virtue on earth, nor a truth in the universe, which does not form a

part, or a consistent and fitting appendage, of the Christian system.

The best, the wisest, the noblest man on earth is no better, no wiser,

no nobler, than the teachings of Jesus tend to make the whole human

race.

5. The influence which Jesus exerted on the world, and the influence

which He is still exerting, is the mightiest and most beneficent ever

experienced by mankind; and the monument which He has raised for

Himself, the Christian Church, with all its institutions, its

literatures, its agencies and achievements is, beyond all comparison,

the grandest, the noblest, and in all respects the most magnificent and

glorious that the history of the world can boast. He has indeed gained

for Himself a name above every name; a glory and a power which have no

equal and no resemblance; and His followers may well adore Him as the

brightness of the Father's glory, and the express image of His love and

majesty.

6. And what can we do better than chime in with the anthem of His

worshippers? What can we do better than teach His beneficent doctrines,

and follow His glorious example? Talk as we will, the noblest and the

happiest life a man can live is a life of Christian love and

beneficence. And the best association on earth is that which is

organized on the principle of love to Christ, pledged to the

self-sacrificing labors of a wise philanthropy, the work of serving and

blessing mankind.

7. A belief in Christ gives one a power to do good to mankind which no

skeptic can have. It kindles love, and stimulates to activity, as

nothing else does. And it inspires courage, and produces patience, and

gives comfort under persecution. And it lays on us no unnecessary

restraints. It leaves us free to every good word and to every good work.

And it is friendly to science and to unlimited progress. It offers a

bond of union for all great minds, and for all good hearts. It increases

our power to reform both churches and states, without urging us to wild

and revolutionary measures, which might imperil the interests of both.

To accept this religion, to avow this faith, involves nothing of which

we need be ashamed, but everything in which we may reasonably glory. We

escape alike the follies of theological dreamers, and the gloom and

horrors of infidel philosophy. We live amidst the soft mild glories of

eternal light; we cheer ourselves with the richest and most glorious

hopes, and we spend our lives in the grandest contemplations and the

noblest occupations the heart of man can conceive.

8. The vainest of all vain things, the most unseemly and revolting of

all forms of pride, is the pride of disbelief in God and immortality.

And the maddest if not the wickedest of all occupations, is to labor to

destroy the faith and blight the hopes of others. What good, humane, or

merciful motive can a man have to impel him to such a horrible

undertaking?

9. How soothing the thought that your sufferings are marked by a loving

God, and will be overruled for your good! And how cheering the thought,

when life is in danger, or drawing to a close, that death is the gate of

a higher life! And how comforting the thought, when your loved ones are

leaving you, that they are going before you to a happier home, and that

by-and-by you will see their faces, hear their voices, and share their

presence and society again! And what a relief, when visiting the sick,

the sorrowing, or the dying, to be able to speak to them of an infinite

Father, of another life, and of brighter scenes, and of a happier lot,

in a better land!

10. We have spent time enough among the dead. And you can see with your

own eyes which are the living, loving, and laboring portions of the

Church. You can see which portions build the most schools, teach the

most children, reclaim the most drunkards and profligates, and do most

to develop and cultivate the religious and moral sentiments of the

masses. And one of the lessons we always pressed on you was, to judge a

tree by its fruits. We do not intend to swerve from our plan of avoiding

sectarian and theological controversy; but we may ask you to compare the

amount of good religious work done by the Methodists in fifty years,

with the good done by the so-called liberal Christians, and to draw

your own conclusion. The Primitive Methodists alone, with the smallest

amount of means, have done incalculably more good in fifty years, than

the Unitarians, with unlimited supplies of wealth, and all the

advantages of learning and position, have done in a hundred and fifty

years. We have cast in our lot with the living, working portion of the

Church. It is our home. We had rather be a doorkeeper of the humblest

living, hard-working church in the land, than dwell with the spiritually

dead and cold in the palaces of princes. We will help the men that are

doing the hard and needful work of humanity. If you can see such men as

the Primitive Methodists and the orthodox Churches generally, working as

they _do_ work, and succeeding as they _do_ succeed, and not respect

them and love them, and take part in helping them, you have not the

heart of tenderness and the spirit of Christian manliness for which we

have given you credit.

11. The influence of Christianity cannot be otherwise than beneficial;

nor is it possible that Christianity should become the ruling power on

earth without greatly abating, if not entirely curing the evils of

humanity, and making mankind as happy as their nature and capacities

admit.

Imagine Christianity to be received and reduced to practice by all the

people on earth, what would be the result? Disease would gradually

diminish. Nine-tenths of it would quickly disappear; and life would be

both happier and much longer.

Along with disease would go want, and the fear of want. All would be

well fed, well clad, well housed, and well supplied with all the

necessaries and comforts of life. The world is stored with abundance of

natural wealth. The surface of the earth is vast enough, and its soil is

rich enough, to supply homes and plenty to all its inhabitants, if they

were fifty times as numerous as they are.

Three or four hours a day would be the utmost length of time that men

would need to labor. The cessation of war would set the soldiers free

for productive employment. The peaceful disposition of the people at

home would allow the police forces to devote themselves to useful labor.

The idle classes would set to work, and the wasteful classes would

become economical. A limit would be fixed to the extravagances of

fashion. Things comely and useful would satisfy the desires of both men

and women. The powers of nature would be pressed more generally into our

service, and compelled to do our drudgery both in the mine and on the

farm. A sense of justice would dispose men to be content with their

share of the blessings of Providence, and Christian generosity would

prompt the rich to supply the wants of the helpless. The dangers of

useful toil would be diminished. The catalogue of mournful accidents in

flood and field, in mines and factories, would be abridged. Oppression

would cease. The wisest and best would be our legislators and rulers.

Patriots, philanthropists, and philosophers would take the place of

selfish politicians. Political trickery would give place to honorable

statesmanship. All cruel forms of servitude would cease. All wicked laws

would be abolished. All needless burdens would be removed from the backs

of the people. All would be well taught. All dreams of impossible

equality, and all thoughts of violent and bloody revolutions, would pass

away. Vice and crime would disappear, with all the tortures both of mind

and body which they occasion. Commerce would flourish. All nations would

freely and lovingly exchange their surplus products. All classes would

deal with each other honorably. Each one would do to others as he would

that others should do to him. No one would suffer from fraud, or from

the fear of fraud. Trade would be a mutual exchange of benefits.

Business would be a pleasant pastime, gainful to all, and ruinous to

none.

Marriage would be universal, and would prove in every case a comfort and

a blessing. The family circle would be the abode of love, and peace, and

joy. Each home would be a little heaven. Children would be wisely

trained and carefully nurtured in knowledge and piety. The virtues and

the graces would adorn their lives from youth to age. All talent and

skill, the powers of eloquence and of poetry, the influences of music

and of song, and all the powers of art would serve the cause of truth

and virtue, of religion and humanity.

Superstition would die. Unnatural conceptions of God, and cruel,

wasteful, and useless forms of worship, would give place to faith in a

God of light and love, of wisdom and of purity, and to a spiritual,

rational, and rapturous kind of devotion. All ignorant dread of natural

phenomena would give place to joyous and loving admiration, and to

devoutest adoration, of the great eternal Ruler of the world. If

calamities came they would be accepted as divine appointments, as

needful means of everlasting good. Death would lose its terrors. Belief

in a blessed immortality would enable us to pass from earth in peace and

joy. Bereavements would be less distressing. The departure of our

friends would be but a transition to a better state of being.

The world itself would change. Its beauties would become more beautiful;

its glories would become more glorious, and all its joys and pleasures

would be more transporting. The eye, the ear, the taste, the smell would

all become the inlets of more and richer enjoyments. Science and

literature in their divinest forms would become the common lot of our

race. The glory of God's character and the brightness of the eternal

future, would shed unwonted radiance over the present life, and make it

rapturous, glorious, and divine. The religion of Christ, while raising

men to heaven, would bring down heaven to earth.

On the other hand, the want of trust in God and of a hope of immortality

tends to darken earth, and to embitter life. When men are severed from

God and Christ, they suffer loss both in character and enjoyment. We can

speak from experience. We never ruined our health by vicious indulgence.

We never became the slave of intemperance or licentiousness. We never

dishonored our family, or lost the love and confidence of our wife and

children. But we lost our trust in God, and our hope of immortality. And

the heavens above grew dark, and the earth became a desolation. Life

lost its value, and sorrow its consolation; and many and many a time we

wished that we had never been born. For hours have we trod the earth

with heavy heart and downcast eyes, groaning beneath a weight of sadness

indescribable. Loss of faith in Christ, even with men of a naturally

cheerful and hopeful spirit, renders life a burden too heavy to be

borne. Hence for years before we fully regained our own faith in

Christianity, we encouraged others to cherish theirs. An infidel once

said, that the Christian's hope, if false, was worth all this world's

best truths; and we felt the truth of the remark, and shrank from

attempts to take from men the inestimable treasure. And now we would

rather die than shake or undermine the faith of any Christian soul on

earth. To the work of cherishing a belief in Christ in our own heart,

and nurturing it in the hearts of others, we consecrate our life, our

all. We would rather live on a crust, in a mud hut, with faith in God

and Christ, than feast on all the dainties of the earth, in the palace

of a king, with the hopelessness and gloom of the Atheist.

We have no disposition to exaggerate; but we are constrained to say,

that if all the wisdom and all the virtue on earth had dwelt in one man,

and if that one man had presented a revelation of God with a view to

supply the strongest, the mightiest, the most touching, the most tender,

the most varied, and the most irresistible inducements to renounce all

selfishness and sin, and to live a pure and godly, a holy and a useful,

a divine and glorious life, that revelation could have assumed no

better, no more perfect or effective form, than that which is presented

in the revelation of God by Jesus Christ. We feel, while we contemplate

it, that it can have no fitter or truer name than that bestowed on it by

the Apostles, 'The power of God to salvation to every one that

believeth.' And we are reminded of the words, 'We all, with open face

beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same

image from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of the Lord.'

Of course the destruction of this belief can operate no otherwise than

as an encouragement to evil, and a discouragement to good. The loss of

Christian belief in God can be to the virtues and the graces of the

heart and life, but as a blight to plants and flowers. The Christian

belief makes it summer to the soul, giving birth, and power, and full

development to all that is godlike and glorious in human character. The

loss of that belief is winter to the soul; killing with its frosts each

form of life and beauty, and making all a waste and desolation.

There have been three great disbelievers in God in our own country

during the present century, all of whom have written books denouncing

marriage, and counselling unbounded sensual license. If their counsels

were generally taken, the result would be a state of society as horrible

as that portrayed in the beginning of Paul's Epistle to the Romans, and

a return to faith in God alone could save the race of man from utter

extinction. But we will not dwell on this dreadful side of the subject.

We know the effects of the light and warmth of the sun; and we may

safely be left to infer the horror, the misery, the world-wide ruin, and

the utter dreariness and desolation that would follow if the orb of day

were extinguished, or for ever and utterly withdrawn. Religion is the

sun of the spiritual world; it is its light and life, its joy and

blessedness; and its extinction would be the death and destruction of

our race.

While belief in God is favorable to virtue generally, it tends also to

produce displays of superior excellence; of unusual courage,

perseverance, and endurance. The believer in God may brave the most

appalling dangers. His feeling is, that he who is for him is greater

than all that can be against him. It is no vain boast in him to say, 'I

fear God, and know no other fear.' It is natural that he should say,

when threatened by mistaken or malignant men, 'You may kill me, but you

cannot hurt me.' The Christian believer can afford to be a martyr. When

excited by ungodly or inhuman opposition, he naturally displays the

martyr's courage. He can bear too to suffer disrepute. He can trust his

reputation to his omniscient and almighty Friend. He can bear to look

with patience both on the adversity of the good, and the prosperity of

the bad. He knows the fate,--he sees the end,--of both. The Judge of all

the earth will do right. He knows no evil but sin. He knows no security

but righteousness.

And Christian faith is a fountain of all conceivable _comfort_. It is a

comfort to feel secure. It is a comfort to feel strong. It is a comfort

to feel assured that we are beloved of God. It is a comfort to feel that

we love Him in return. It is a comfort to believe that the universe has

a Head, a Lord, a Ruler. It is a comfort to believe that we are not

orphans, fatherless inhabitants of a Godless world. There is pleasure in

admiration and reverence. There is pleasure in feelings of gratitude.

There is a pleasure in tracing the wonders and beauties of creation to a

living, loving Creator. It adds to the pleasure of science to believe,

that behind the wonderful phenomena which we behold, there is a Great

Unseen from whose all-loving heart they all proceed. It is a pleasure to

believe that our ways are ordered by infinite wisdom. It is a pleasure

to believe that our sorrows are known to an almighty sympathizing

Friend. It is a pleasure to believe that our kindred and friends have a

helper greater than ourselves. It is a pleasure to believe that our lot

is appointed by an infinite Father; that we shall not be permitted to be

tried beyond our strength; that in every temptation, a way will be made

for our escape; that nothing can harm us, however painful; that nothing

can destroy us, however terrible; that all things work together for our

good. In short, there is no end to the strength which a Christian belief

in God is calculated to give to our virtue, or to the consolation which

it is calculated to impart to our souls.

But what can be sadder than to be without God, and without hope, in a

world like this? With all our science how little we know! How terrible

the thought that we have no unerring guide! With all our powers how

feeble we are! How terrible the thought that we have no almighty friend!

And vast and numberless as are the provisions that are made for our

happiness, how often we are thwarted, how prone we are, even in the

midst of plenty, to be dissatisfied; and how soon we may perish! And how

sad the thought that there is no restorer! Is it strange that, when

faith in God is lost, the value of life is felt to be gone?

We have no harsh word for the doubter or the disbeliever, but we raise

our warning voice against the dangers which beset the way of youth, and

counsel all to consider well their steps. 'There are ways which at times

seem right unto men, but the end thereof is death.' 'The fear of the

Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and to depart from evil is

understanding.' Science has advanced; arts have multiplied; governments

have changed; and many are tempted to believe that the principles of

religion and virtue are exploded. But woe to the man that yields to the

temptation. His days shall be darkened with grief; and his heart

distracted with horror. But peace and purity and joy shall be the lot of

the faithful Christian. The light of life shall shine upon his path. The

wisdom of the Holy One shall be his guide; and, living and dying, he

shall be secure.

12. The Christian has the highest, the happiest employment. He works in

the spirit of eternal love. He works for the highest and the holiest

ends. And he works in hope. He sees the harvest in the ploughing of the

field, the coming crop in the scattered seed. The result of his labors

may come slowly, but he can afford to wait. The Lord reigneth; and the

plans of His eternal love can never fail.

And all things rich and beautiful are his. The earth and its fulness are

his. The heavens and their glories are his. All sights of beauty, all

sounds of melody, all emotions of wonder, all transports of delight are

his. There are no forms, no elements of bliss from which he is excluded.

All the innocent pleasures of sense, all that can delight the soul

through the eye, the ear, the taste, or the feelings; all that is rich

in art; all that is rapturous in song; all the pleasures of science and

literature, all are his.

And all earth's blessings, all pure and harmless pleasures, he can enjoy

more truly and more fully than other men. While his faith in God gives

greater beauty and glory to the universe, his hope of immortality gives

greater sweetness to his earthly life. The brightness of the eternal

world throws a celestial radiance over the present, and gives to earth a

portion of the blessedness of heaven.

A FEW TESTIMONIES OF GREAT MEN IN FAVOR OF CHRISTIANITY.

We live in the midst of blessings, till we are utterly insensible of

their greatness, and of the source from which they flow. We speak of our

civilization, our arts, our freedom, our laws, and forget entirely how

large a share of all is due to Christianity.--_Coleridge._

There never was found in any age of the world, either philosopher or

sect, or law or discipline, which did so highly exalt the public good as

the Christian faith.--_Bacon._

As the man of pleasure, by a vain attempt to be more happy than any man

can be, is often more miserable than most men are; so the skeptic, in a

vain attempt to be wise beyond what is permitted to man, plunges into a

darkness more deplorable than that of the common herd.--_Colton._

Since the introduction of Christianity, human nature has made great

progress; but it has not got in advance of Christianity. Men have

outgrown other institutions and systems, but they may grow for ever and

not outgrow Christianity.--_Channing._

I have lived long enough to know what I did not at one time

believe--that no society can be upheld in happiness and honor without

the sentiment of religion.--_La Place._

It is heaven on earth to have one's mind to move in charity, to rest on

Providence, and follow truth.--_Bacon._

Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity,

religion and morality are most essential. In vain would that man claim

the tribute of patriotism, who should labor to destroy those great

pillars of human happiness; these firmest props of virtue. And let us

not suppose that morality can be maintained without religion. Whatever

may be conceded to the influence of refined education on minds of

peculiar structure, reason and experience both forbid us to expect

national morality to prevail in the absence of religious

principle.--_Washington._

I have carefully and regularly perused these Holy Scriptures, and am of

opinion, that the volume, independently of its divine origin, contains

more sublimity, purer morality, more important history, and finer

strains of eloquence, than can be collected from all other books, in

whatever language they may have been written.--_Sir William Jones._