THOUGHT.

It is the grandeur of all truth which _can_ occupy a very high place in

human interests, that it is never absolutely novel to the meanest of

minds: it exists eternally by way of germ or latent principle in the

lowest as in the highest, needing to be developed, but never to be

planted.--DE QUINCEY.

Many persons seem to suppose that the power of Thought, or at least the

power of thinking to any purpose, is a natural gift, possessed by few,

and unattainable by the many. This idea is a very pernicious error, for

one of the traits by which the human being is distinguished from the

brute is the possession of this power; and the progress that every human

being may make in learning to think well has no limit but the universal

one of finite capacity.

The distinction made between thoughtful and thoughtless persons is

commonly one of intellect alone; it should be quite as much one of

morality. Considered intellectually, a thoughtless person cannot be

successful in any but the very lowest walks of life. He brings nothing

but his hands to what he does. If these be strong, he may dig, perhaps,

as well as another man, but he can never make a good farmer; he may

use the axe or the hammer to good purpose, but he can never become a

master-workman. If he attempt anything more or higher than what his

hands can do under the guidance of another's brain, his effort is sure

to be followed by confusion and failure. Viewing a thoughtless person

in a moral light, he cannot be religious, he cannot be virtuous, and,

unless by accident, he cannot even be externally moral. He may, perhaps,

perceive that the grosser forms of wickedness are to be avoided, but he

can have no comprehension of the danger involved in the little vices of

everyday life; and cannot understand how every one of these vices, small

as it may seem, contains within itself the germ of some one of those

great and shocking sins forbidden in the commandments. He will,

therefore, without compunction, go on committing these small sins

until the habit of evil becomes so fixed, that, if he does not end by

committing great ones, it is more frequently from lack of temptation

than from any worthier reason.

The thoughtless person can never be depended upon for anything. We never

know where to find him, or what he will do in any particular position or

relation of life. All we can anticipate of him is, that he will probably

do something bad, or silly, or improper; accordingly as the act may

bear upon morality, sense, or manners.

Before going further, let it be understood that a thoughtless person

is not one without Thought. A human being without Thought is an

impossibility. Most, if not all, idiots think. It is the lack of

coherency, purpose, and effort in Thought that induces the habit of mind

commonly known as thoughtlessness. Without Thought, Imagination, and

Affection, one could not be a human being. Mankind differ from each

other, not in kind, but in degree. It is the low degree of activity in

either of these great divisions of the human mind that causes one to

seem thoughtless, unimaginative, or without affection. The end of all

training should be to develop each one of these faculties so that it

shall coöperate with the others, and all as fully as possible. A just

balance of power is the first requisite, and constant increase of it

the second; just as in the physical frame we ask, first, for just

proportion, and, as the product of this, for strength.

It is often said that no kind of sense is so rare as common sense; and

this is true, simply because common sense is attainable by all far more,

and is a natural gift far less, than most other traits of character.

Common sense is the application of Thought to common things, and it is

rare because most persons will not exercise Thought about common things.

If some important affair occurs, people try then to think, but to

very little purpose; because, not having exercised their powers on small

things, their powers lack the development necessary for great ones.

Hence, thoughtless people, when forced to act in an affair of

importance, blunder through it with no more chance of doing as they

should than one would have of hitting a small or distant mark at a

shooting-match, if previous practice had not given the power of hitting

objects that are large and near.

The thoughtless person perpetually acts and speaks as if it were of

no consequence what is said or done. If any one venture to suggest a

different mode of speech or action, the reply is pretty sure to be, "O,

it is of no consequence!" As if an immortal being, to whom a few short

years of probation had been given, the use or abuse of which must give

character to an eternity to come, could do or say what would have no

consequence! Let any one bring distinctly before himself the great truth

that we stand ever in the presence of the Almighty, stewards of his

bounty, children of his love, and could it be possible for him to

believe that it is of no consequence how that love is returned, and how

that bounty is used? Every word, every act of our lives, is either a use

or an abuse of his bounty, a showing forth either of our love for or our

indifference to him. Therefore, every word and act has a consequence,

ending not with the hour or day, but stretching forward into eternity.

Let this truth be admitted to the mind, and who could dare to be

thoughtless. Who would not wish to return the infinite love poured out

upon us, by consecrating all that we have and all that we are to the

service of the Infinite Father? When this consecration takes place, all

pure aspirations fill the heart, while the mind is ever thinking what is

the best way in which the will of the Lord may be done. Thoughtlessness

has no longer an abiding-place, for the mind now perceives that it must

be about its Father's business, and Thought becomes a delightful and

invigorating exercise, instead of the wearisome effort it seemed before.

If the mind hold to its integrity, without relapsing into its former

state of blind indifference to its high vocation, the cultivation of

the power of Thought will go on steadily and surely, and the mind will

become constantly more and more clarified from all folly and silliness.

When a person brings everything habitually to the standard of right and

wrong, he gradually learns to judge wisely of whatever subject he may

hold under consideration, provided he does not seek for that standard in

his own mind, but in the mind of the Lord, as he has given it to us in

the Word of eternal life. When this standard is sought only in the human

mind, nothing is fixed or permanent, and discord abounds in society much

as it would if the length and breadth of the fingers of each individual

were to be substituted for the standard inch and foot of the nation; but

if the Bible be honestly and humbly received as the standard by which to

judge of right and wrong, mankind would ever abide in brotherly love and

harmonious union. The element of discord is not in God's work, but in

the mind of man; and man becomes truly wise and capable of concord only

so far as, forgetting the devices of his own understanding, he becomes a

recipient of the truth that descends to him from on high.

It may be objected that the Bible has been the fruitful source of

contention and war; and some may suppose it cannot therefore be a

standard of union to the world; but it should be remembered that, when

it has become a cause of dissension, it has been by the perversion of

man, who has separated doctrine from life,--has put asunder that

which God joined. No contention has ever risen in the world regarding

religious life, but many and terrible ones regarding religious doctrine

separated from life; and it is perfectly apparent, that, had those who

were engaged in them, looked to religious life with the same earnestness

they did toward doctrine, all these dissensions must have ceased.

Christian life is, as it were, a building, of which faith is the

foundation. The foundation is subservient to the superstructure, and

should be strong and well laid; but has no value excepting as it is

the support of a worthy building. The Lord is very explicit in all his

teachings on the subject of life, and it is hardly possible that any one

could faithfully study his words, and then exalt abstract doctrine into

the place that belongs of right to Christian life.

Whoever studies the direct teachings of the Lord, recorded by the

Evangelists, and makes them the rules of his Thoughts, must necessarily

be wise. Everything connected with daily life, if his mind be really

permeated with these teachings, takes its proper place before him. He

sees what has a transient, and what a permanent value,--what is merely

temporal, and what eternal; and so learns to appreciate the relative

value of all things. Everything that occurs becomes a subject for his

thoughts to work upon, and while working in heavenly light his mind

grows in wisdom day by day. This action of Thought will not be confined

to events as they occur around him, but whatever is read, all the events

of the past, all art and science, are brought under the same analysis.

The thoughtless person reads merely for the amusement of the moment,

remembers little of what he reads, and that little to no purpose. A

fact is, to such a man, a mere fact standing by itself, and having no

relation to anything else. However much he may read, the thoughtless man

can never be instructed. He is of those who, seeing, perceive not, and

who, hearing, do not understand. The thoughtful person, on the contrary,

reads everything with a purpose. His mind works upon what he reads, and

he is instructed and made intelligent, even though he may see only

with the light of this world. His intelligence will, however, be very

different and very inferior in degree to that of the man who looks at

objects in the light of heaven. He will measure things by an uncertain,

varying standard, and will appreciate things only according to their

temporal value. He will, therefore, never become truly wise. With those

whose minds are nurtured by the words of the Lord, everything is judged

by the standard of eternal truth. Whatever is learned is digested by the

thoughts, and so the powers of the mind are strengthened and enlarged.

Thus the mind becomes constantly more and more wise. The merely

intellectual man has the desire to become wise, but his eye is not

single, and therefore his mind is obscured by many clouds,--the dark

exhalations of worldliness. When a man fixes his eye upon the Lord he is

filled with light, and sees with a clearness of vision such as can be

gained from no other source.

The cultivation of Thought lies at the root of all intellectuality,

while it elevates and enlarges the sphere of the Affections. Affection

is above Thought, but it is sustained and invigorated by its influence.

Thought being the foundation upon which Affection is built, the

strength, permanence and reliability of Affection must depend on the

solidity and justice of the underlying Thought.

The mind may be stored with the most varied and extensive knowledge, and

yet be neither improved nor adorned thereby. Robert Hall once remarked

of an acquaintance, that he had piled such an amount of learning upon

his brain, it could not move under the weight. It is little matter

whether the amount of learning be large or small; the brain is only

encumbered by it, unless it has taken it into its own texture, and made

it by Thought a part of itself. Some persons love facts as a miser loves

gold, merely because they are possessions; but without any desire to

make use of them. A fact or thought is just as valuable in itself as

a piece of money. Gold and silver are neither food, nor raiment, nor

shelter; but we value them because through their means we can obtain all

these. So facts and thoughts are neither rationality, nor wisdom, nor

virtue, and their value lies in their being mediums whereby we may

obtain them all.

Undigested learning is as useless and oppressive as undigested food; and

as in the dyspeptic patient the appetite for food often grows with the

inability to digest it, so in the unthinking patient an overweening

desire to know often accompanies the inability to know to any purpose.

Thought is to the brain what gastric juice is to the stomach,--a

solvent to reduce whatever is received to a condition in which all that

is wholesome and nutritive may be appropriated, and that alone. To learn

merely for the sake of learning, is like eating merely for the taste

of the food. The mind will wax fat and unwieldy, like the body of the

gormand. The stomach is to the frame what memory is to the mind; and it

is as unwise to cultivate the memory at the expense of the mind, as it

would be to enlarge the capacity of the stomach by eating more food than

the wants of the frame require, or food of a quality that it could not

appropriate. To learn in order to become wise makes the mind active and

powerful, like the body of one who is temperate and judicious in meat

and drink. Learning is healthfully digested by the mind when it reflects

upon what is learned, classifies and arranges facts and circumstances,

considers the relations of one to another, and places what is taken into

the mind at different times in relation to the same subjects under their

appropriate heads, so that the various stores are not heterogeneously

piled up, but laid away in order, and may be referred to with ease when

wanted. If a person's daily employments are such as demand a constant

exercise of the thoughts, all the leisure should not be devoted to

reading, but a part reserved for reflecting upon and arranging in the

mind what is read. The manner of reading is much more important than

the quantity. To hurry through many books, retaining only a confused

knowledge of their contents, is but a poor exercise of the brain; it is

far better to read with care a few well-selected volumes.

There is a strong tendency towards superficial culture at the present

day, which is the natural result of the immense amount of books and

periodicals constantly pouring from the press, and tempting readers to

dip a little into almost everything, and to study nothing. Much is said

of the pernicious consequences arising from lectures and periodicals, as

though a short account of anything must of necessity be a superficial

one; but this is far from the truth. A quarto volume on one theme may

be entirely superficial, while a lecture or review-article on the same

theme may contain the whole gist of the matter. Prolixity is oftener

superficial than brevity. Books are superficial if they relate only

to the outside of a subject,--if they describe only its husk; and the

reverse, if they give its kernel. Many an able review-article contains

the kernel of a whole volume, and if the pleased reader of the

review goes to the book itself, expecting to enjoy that in a degree

proportionate to its size, he will often find he has got nothing but a

dry husk for his pains.

Those who have little time for books, but who wish really to know many

things, can accomplish a great deal by being careful to hunt for meats

rather than for shells and husks; for though the outsides of things make

a great show, and can be displayed by the pedant to great advantage

before those who are superficial as himself, they contain no healthful

nutriment for the mind. Take, for instance, the study of botany. Let

a person master the whole vocabulary of the science, and know the

arrangement of its classifications so well that he can turn at once to

the description of any plant he may find. Let him do this until, like

King Solomon, he knows every plant by name, from the "hyssop on the wall

to the cedar of Lebanon"; but if at the same time he knows nothing

more about them than the name, his knowledge of botany is entirely

superficial, though he may have spent a vast deal of time and labor

in its acquisition. Let another person have studied the physiology of

plants till he has learned all that has yet been discovered of their

curious and beautiful structure,--till he appreciates as far as mortals

may the Divine wisdom, that even in the formation of a blade of grass

transcends not only all that man with all his pride of science and

mechanical skill can perform, but goes far--we cannot even guess how

far--beyond all that human intellect can comprehend; and still more if

the mind of this student be lifted upward in adoration as he learns, he

is the true botanist, though he may have studied far less, if we count

by time, than his superficial brother.

So it is with all the sciences. The kernel is what nourishes the

mind,--the knowledge of what God has created, and not the mere power of

repeating the classifications and vocabularies that man has invented to

describe these creations: not that these also have not an eminent use;

but still it is one that should always be esteemed secondary in all our

studies.

So, too, it is with history. One may have all the important dates,

names, and facts of the world's history at the tongue's end, and yet be

none the wiser; for such knowledge is but the surface of history. To

know history well, is to have so arranged its facts in the mind that it

may be contemplated as a continuous exhibition of God's providence. It

is to study the succession of events, not as separate units, but as

links of one vast chain, on every one of which is inscribed a phrase

discoursing of the progress of the human race, and showing the growth of

man in the complex, from infancy to adolescence. Further than that, we

can hardly venture to believe the race has yet advanced. Thus studied,

history is the noblest of all sciences, since it treats of the highest

of God's creations; but studied as a mere congeries of facts, all

sciences are alike worthless; and from the mousings of the mere

antiquarian to the dredgings of the student of the shelly coverings of

the Mollusca, all end in naught.

When a person's employment is one that does not require a constant

exercise of the thoughts, there is the greater need of a constant supply

of nutritious food for the mind, that it may be growing all the time by

reflection, and thus be saved from falling into a morbid state, such

as too often results from long confinement to an occupation demanding

little exertion of its powers. The farmer at his plough, the mechanic at

his bench, the seamstress at her needle, and a host of others, too

often suffer the thoughts to wander into realms of morbid egotism and

discontent, when, if they would turn them upon moral or intellectual

themes, they might be growing wiser and better every day.

It may be objected, that those who are obliged to work hard through the

whole week cannot, on the Sabbath, take enough intellectual food to last

them for Thought during the week. Every person can, if he will, find

time for a chapter in the Bible every day, and therein lies wisdom, that

all humanity combined can never exhaust, and which ever opens richer

stores the more it is wrought upon. Then the human race are everywhere

around us, and every individual is a volume to be read. We are vexed,

and perhaps tormented, by the vices or foibles of those with whom we

are thrown in contact. Let us not stop in vexation, but study our own

hearts, and see if there is not some kindred vice or foible in ourselves

that perhaps troubles our friends quite as much as this disturbs us; for

it is often the case that our own vices, when we meet them in others,

are precisely those which irritate us most; and we are almost always

more irritable through our vices than through our virtues. Again, we

find persons exciting our admiration through their virtues. Let us not

stop in cold admiration, but reflect how we may engraft similar virtues

upon our own souls. It is deep and earnest Thought alone that can teach

us to know ourselves, and without this knowledge we are in constant

danger of cherishing repulsive vices such as we should abhor in others,

and of neglecting the culture of virtues such as in others we esteem

indispensable. Society at large, too, is around us, and domestic

circles, with all their complex relations, their jarring discords, or

their heavenly harmonies; and all are full of food for Thought. The true

and the false, the right and the wrong, are everywhere, and the highest

wisdom is to be able to distinguish one from the other. He who has

spent his whole life in intellectual pursuits may, in this greatest

wisdom,--the only wisdom that belongs to eternity equally with time,--be

the veriest fool; while he who has patiently and prayerfully and

obediently studied no book but the Bible may be so taught of God that he

shall possess all that man while on earth can possess of this highest

wisdom.

It is beautifully said by William von Humboldt, that "exactly those

joyful truths which are the most needful to man--the holiest and

the greatest--lie open to the simplest, plainest mind; nay, are not

unfrequently better, and even more entirely, grasped by such a one,

than by him whose greater knowledge more dissipates his thoughts. These

truths, too, have this peculiarity, that, although they want no profound

research to attain to them, but rather make their own way in the mind,

there is always something new to be found in them, because they are in

themselves inexhaustible and endless."

While the Bible is left to us, while human beings surround us, while our

own souls are to be cleansed, renewed, and saved, we miserably deceive

ourselves if we think we lack material for Thought. We are thinking

perpetually, whether we will or no, and let us look to it that we think

to some good purpose. How much Thought is worse than wasted in planning

how wealth, which too often profiteth not, may be acquired, while the

true riches that the Lord is ever offering for our acceptance are

forgotten! How often are the Thoughts poisoned with envying the lands of

one's neighbor, while one's own soul is lying an uncultivated waste.

How often is the mind cankered with vexation at the intellectual

achievements of an old schoolmate, whom in school days we never deemed

wiser than ourselves, when all that has wrought the present difference

between us is, that he thought and strove while we dreamed and loitered.

In its purely religious action, Thought is the fountain of that Faith

which forms the base of St. Paul's trinity of the primal elements

of Character,--the foundation upon which hope and charity are to be

elevated. How important, then, is it that this foundation should be

wisely laid! Many persons think much in relation to religious subjects

from the love of metaphysical reasoning; while their lives are not

influenced by the doctrines they profess. This is an abuse of Thought,

one of its fruits is bigotry. The more strongly a man confirms himself

in any doctrine that he does not apply to life, the more elevated he

becomes in his own estimation,--the more puffed up with spiritual

pride,--the more full of contempt and hatred towards those who disagree

with him. With such persons, purity of life is as nothing compared with

faith in a certain set of dogmas. There are some who think much of the

vices of life, but always in relation to their neighbors, and thereby

engender that form of bigotry called misanthropy. Both these classes

misuse the faculty of Thought, making it subserve the purposes of

contempt and hatred and debasing narrow-mindedness, instead of

ministering to Christian love, that hopeth all things of its brother,

and judges as it would be judged.

The more we study human nature out of ourselves, and in the light of the

Understanding, the less we love it; but the reverse takes place when we

study our own hearts at the same time that we study the characters of

our fellow-beings, and both in the light of Christian truth. We cannot

hate our fellow-beings while we perceive that we are all of one

family,--while we feel our own weakness and sinfulness; and we cannot

despair of human nature while we believe that Infinite Wisdom has become

its Redeemer and Saviour.

If Thought be strongly turned towards religious subjects, the mind must

necessarily form to itself many doctrines which will be its true creed,

whatever external form of Church creed it may avow, or even if it

disavow all creeds. At the present day, it is not uncommon to hear

creeds spoken of with contempt, as the effete remains of a past age;

and the remark is often made, that it is of no consequence what a man

believes if he do but lead a good life. The religious opinions we hold

constitute the morality of our internal life; and it is difficult to

understand how internal morality can be of no consequence, while

external morality is of so much. It would seem that external morality is

but a mask, unless it truly represent the internal morality. Still it is

not surprising that many superficial observers should be found ready to

express their aversion to creeds, when we consider the abuses into which

Churches and Governments have rushed in their efforts to establish and

maintain their favorite dogmas; or when we observe how the bigoted

supporters of creeds become blinded to every other consideration, and

learn to look upon life as of little importance when compared with

doctrine. It was probably in contemplation of such bigotry that the

Apostle exclaims, "Show me thy faith without works, and I will show thee

my faith by my works." This saying is often quoted in defence of the

idea that faith is of no consequence compared with works; but this is no

logical deduction from the text. "I will show thee my faith by my works"

expresses no disregard or undervaluing of faith, but asserts the great

truth that faith becomes a living reality only when it forms itself into

works. The quality of works depends, not on the works themselves, but

upon the faith that inspires them. For instance, three men of equal

wealth may each give the same sum of money to some charity. Externally

the act is the same in each individual, yet the common sense of the very

same persons who a few moments before may have asserted that faith is

nothing, and works everything, does not hesitate to estimate it in a

totally different manner. One of the donors has made up his mind that

ease is the only good. He has taught himself to believe that it is

wise to avoid all trouble, and to give rather than make the effort of

resisting importunity; and he gives because he carries this belief into

effect. Another is an ambitious man, who believes that power and the

good opinion of society are the best among good things; and he gives

to obtain the praise of men and the influence in society which follows

praise. The third believes that the first good of life is making others

happy, and with systematic benevolence examines every claim upon his

bounty, and, if he finds it worthy, never dismisses it unsatisfied. It

was the faith within the act that gave this distinctive quality to the

three donations. The first put his faith in ease, the second in the

opinion of the world, and the third in doing good to the neighbor; and

the common sense of the community judges the actions accordingly. All

the actions of life range themselves under one or other of the three

heads represented by these gifts; namely, the love of self, or ease; the

love of the world, or ambition; and the love of the neighbor, or true

charity. Every man is probably governed in turn by each of these loves;

but in every man one of them takes the lead and dominates over the other

two; and just in proportion as he gives himself up to the dominion

of one of these loves and rejects the sway of the others he leads a

consistent life. Society may assert that life is everything, and faith

nothing, when it talks abstractly; but its common sense ever shows more

wisdom by transferring the quality of the motive to the act, as often as

it finds any clew to the knowledge of motive. Of course, society makes

many blunders in these judgments, because it reads the heart of man

very imperfectly; but the nature of man leads him constantly to attempt

penetrating the heart before forming his opinion of an action.

There is no need of restricting the word creed to the forms of faith

adopted by particular churches. Whatever a man believes is his creed,

and every man has a creed, however much he may be opposed to forms of

faith; and this creed is the rule of his life, however strongly he may

assert, and however implicitly believe, that faith is of no importance.

Take, for instance, a man who devotes his whole energies to the pursuit

of riches from a conviction that they are the greatest good this world

affords. If he have large caution, he will take care not to break the

laws of the land; but everything short of that he will do to attain his

loved object. Perhaps he has large love of approbation; he will then

be a little more cautious, and will do nothing that can injure his

reputation as a gentleman; at least unless he believes that what he does

will not be known in society. Perhaps, however, he has neither of these

restraining traits, and is of a violent disposition; he will then be

ready to rob or murder, if such means seem to promise to give him his

desires. Shall we say this man has no creed, when his faith in the value

of riches impels him to devote body and soul to the acquisition of gain?

Does not his creed run thus: "I believe in gold as the one great good,

and for this will I sacrifice all else that I possess." And does not his

life and death devotion to this creed put to shame the feeble efforts of

many of us who believe that we devote ourselves to more worthy ends?

So it is with those who employ themselves exclusively in the attainment

of intellectual wealth. Faith that this is the one great good incites

them to unwearied labor,--causes them to forget food, sleep, friends,

everything, in order that they may acquire abundant stores of learning;

and all because they have taken as their creed, "I believe that learning

is better than all beside, and for this will I labor day and night."

So it is with the ambitious man. Who labors more devotedly than he; ever

keeping his creed in mind, "I believe that power and reputation are

above all other possessions, and to gain them I will sacrifice time,

labor, truth, and justice."

So it is with every man and every woman the world over. The slothful

even--those who seem impelled to nothing--refrain from effort because

they put their faith in idleness as the one thing above all others

desirable.

Mankind are possessed of Understanding no less than Affection; and by

this, their inherent nature, they are compelled to believe no less than

to love. It is vain to talk of cultivating the Affections that charity

may be perfected in humanity, and at the same time omit all care of the

faith. The mind will and must believe so long as it continues to think;

and it is as unsafe to leave it without cultivation as to abandon the

heart to the instruction of chance. The question is not, shall we or

shall we not adopt a creed; for however strongly we may resist, we

cannot refrain from holding one; but, what creed shall we adopt?

Accordingly as we answer this question so will the measure of bur wisdom

be both here and hereafter.

The human race may, in this respect, be divided into three

classes,--those who adopt good creeds, those who adopt evil creeds, and

those who, too indolent or too heedless distinctly to adopt any rule of

life, spend their days in vascillating between the two; but the latter,

by reason of the greater tendency to sin than to holiness inherent with

the human race, tend, year by year, more and more decidedly towards the

evil.

It is impossible that any person should lead a consistent life unless a

creed be adopted and steadfastly acted upon; because unless one holds

distinct opinions in relation to life and duty, one is drawn hither and

thither by impulse and passion, as the mind's mood varies from time to

time, so that the words and actions of to-day will be often in direct

opposition to those which were yesterday, or which will be to-morrow.

In order to lead a life worthy an immortal being, a child of God, the

first step to be taken is to come to a distinct understanding of

what one wishes to be and to do. The biographies of those who have

distinguished themselves in the world, either for goodness or for

greatness, frequently show that in early life they adopted certain modes

and directions of effort, and have attained to eminence by steadily

persevering in one direction. Among the papers of these persons, written

rules have been found which they have laid down for themselves as

creeds, and in harmony with which they have built up their Characters;

and herein lies the secret of their success.

The living in accordance with such creeds will not insure greatness or

distinguished reputation, because after all our efforts, no one can be

sure of worldly and external success. Events which it was impossible

to provide for, or even to foresee, will often confound the best

preparations of humanity, because the providence of God overrules all

the events of life, according to the eternal dictates of infinite

wisdom and mercy,--a wisdom that knows when it is best for us to succeed

and when to fail in our wishes and endeavors, and a mercy which, looking

to our eternal welfare, sometimes makes us sorrowful here that we may

the more rejoice hereafter.

Perhaps the cause which most frequently prevents the adoption of a creed

is the failing to recognize the seriousness of life in this world. Few

persons can be found so senseless or so reckless as not to recognize the

seriousness of death. Probably few could look upon the solemn stillness

of the lifeless human countenance without a feeling of awe at the

thought that ere long their day too must come when the beating of

the busy heart shall cease, and the now quick blood shall stay its

course,--when the hand shall lose its cunning and the brain its power.

Such impressions are too often transitory, passing away with the object

that awoke them, because persons do not stop to consider why it is that

solemnity and awe pervade the presence of death. If they did, they would

feel that this solemnity was reflected upon life, and life would became

to them serious as death. Both would be serious, but neither sorrowful;

for then death would lose its terror and would be looked forward to

simply as the beginning of eternal life. The solemnity of life lies in

the fact that it is a preparation for eternity; and the solemnity of

death in the fact that the preparation is over and the eternity begun.

In all this there is no cause of sadness, but infinite cause for

thoughtful seriousness.

When the true solemnity of life is comprehended, and the Character is

moulded in accordance with the ideas that in consequence possess the

soul, a growth of the whole nature is induced that prevents all the

repulsive characteristics of old age. Too often old age is utterly

disagreeable through the indulgence of ill-temper, fretfulness, and

selfish indifference to the wishes and pleasures of the young. Such

traits of Character could never possess us if the true import of

life were comprehended, and the Character formed in harmony with its

teachings. A Character that grows in grace daily must become more and

more beautiful and attractive with advancing years. Each day, as it

finds it better fitted for heaven, must find it less sullied by the

imperfections of earth.

We sometimes see persons discontented and peevish because they are

old,--because they feel that they must soon pass away from the

earth. Could this be, if they believed that life on earth was only

a preparation for an eternal life in heaven? Could they shrink with

aversion at the thought of death if they believed it to be the portal of

heaven? The follies and the vices, the weariness and the sadness, the

discontent and the moroseness of life, all spring from the want of a

just conception of its relations and its value, such as can be attained

only by calm, deliberate reflection, out of which wise opinions evolve,

and are gradually shaped into a creed such as forms the bone and muscle

of a wise and noble Character.

Evil is ever the result of the abuse of some good; for nothing was

created evil. The narrow creeds of various churches, by which men's

souls have been unworthily bound, have sprung from the falsification of

the fact that man requires faith in truth that he may be able to lead a

life of goodness. Had the makers of these creeds gone directly to

the Bible for their materials, instead of looking into their own

minds,--had they been content to accept the Ten Commandments given to

the Jewish, or the Two given to the Christian Church, much mischief

might have been avoided; but, not satisfied with the simplicity and

directness of God's word, they built up creeds from their own minds, not

as guides to a holy life, but as chains to compel the minds of other men

into harmony with their own. Just in proportion to the energy with which

they strove to impress themselves upon the people through these creeds

was their indifference to that life' of holiness which should be the end

of all creeds.

The centuries that have passed since the Christian dispensation was

proclaimed have many of them been darkened even to blackness by insane

endeavors to write creeds of man's devising, in letters of fire and

blood, upon the nations. The day for such deeds has passed away from

most lands calling themselves Christian; and now men are inclining to

rush into the opposite extreme, and to mistake licentiousness in belief

for liberty of conscience. Such an extreme naturally follows the

opposite one that preceded it; but out of the anarchy of faith that now

prevails the providence of God. will surely, in his own good time, lift

up his children into the liberty wherewith those who obey him are made

free. Then will it be understood that the truth is not a chain to bind

the soul, but a shining light illuminating all the dark places of the

earth, and pouring into every soul that worthily receives it a living

warmth, that shall clothe the whole being with the beautiful garments

of heavenly charity. Then shall it be seen that all true creeds are

contained within the two commandments of the Son of God. Thou shalt love

the Lord with all thy heart and soul and mind and strength; and thy

neighbor as thyself.