our eyes?--of _that day_ when you, and every one of us, shall awake from
the grave, and behold the Son of God, on his glorious tribunal, attended
by millions of celestial beings, of whose superior excellence we can now
form no adequate idea:--When, in presence of all mankind, of those holy
angels, and of the great Judge himself, you must give an account of your
past life, and hear your final doom, from which there can be no appeal,
and which must determine your fate to all eternity. Then think--if for a
moment you can bear the thought--what will be the desolation, shame, and
anguish of those wretched souls, who shall hear these dreadful
words:--_Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for
the devil and his angels_. Oh! my beloved child! I cannot support even
the idea of your becoming one of those undone, lost creatures. I trust
in God's mercy, that you will make a better use of that knowledge of his
will, which he has vouchsafed you, and of those amiable dispositions he
has given you. Let us therefore turn from this horrid, this
insupportable view, and rather endeavour to imagine, as far as is
possible, what will be the sensation of your soul, if you shall hear our
heavenly Judge address you in these transporting words--_Come, thou
blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the
foundation of the world_. Think, what it must be, to become an object of
the esteem and applause, not only of all mankind assembled together, but
of all the host of heaven, of our blessed Lord himself, nay, of his and
our Almighty Father: to find your frail flesh changed in a moment into a
glorious celestial body, endowed with perfect beauty, health, and
agility--to find your soul cleansed from all its faults and infirmities;
exalted to the purest and noblest affections, overflowing with divine
love and rapturous gratitude;--to have your understanding enlightened
and refined, your heart enlarged and purified, and every power and
disposition of mind and body adapted to the highest relish of virtue and
happiness! Thus accomplished, to be admitted into the society of
amiable and happy beings, all united in the most perfect peace and
friendship, all breathing nothing but love to God, and to each
other;--with them to dwell in scenes more delightful than the richest
imagination can paint--free from every pain and care, and from all
possibility of change or satiety:--but, above all, to enjoy the more
immediate presence of God himself--to be able to comprehend and admire
his adorable perfections in a high degree, though still far short of
their infinity--to be conscious of his love and favour, and to rejoice
in the light of his countenance!--but here all imagination fails:--We
can form no idea of that bliss which may be communicated to us by such a
near approach to the source of all beauty and all good:--We must content
ourselves with believing, that it is what _mortal eye hath not seen, nor
ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive_.
The crown of all our joys will be to know that we are secure of
possessing them _for ever_--What a transporting idea!
My dearest child! can you reflect on all these things, and not feel the
most earnest longings after immortality? Do not all other views and
desires seem mean and trifling when compared with this? And does not
your inmost heart resolve that this shall be the chief and constant
object of its wishes and pursuit, through the whole course of your life?
If you are not insensible to that desire of happiness, which seems woven
into our nature, you cannot surely be unmoved by the prospect of such a
transcendent degree of it; and that, continued to all eternity--perhaps
continually increasing. You cannot but dread the forfeiture of such an
inheritance as the most insupportable evil! Remember then--remember the
conditions on which alone it can be obtained. God will not give to vice,
to carelessness, or sloth, the prize he has proposed to virtue. You have
every help that can animate your endeavours:--You have written laws to
direct you--the example of Christ and his disciples to encourage
you--the most awakening motives to engage you--and you have, besides,
the comfortable promise of constant assistance from the Holy Spirit, if
you diligently and sincerely pray for it. O, my dear child! let not all
this mercy be lost upon you; but give your attention to this your only
important concern, and accept, with profound gratitude, the inestimable
advantages that are thus affectionately offered you.
Though the four gospels are each of them a narration of the life,
sayings, and death of Christ; yet, as they are not exactly alike, but
some circumstances and sayings, omitted in one, are recorded in another,
you must make yourself perfectly mistress of them all.
The ACTS of the holy Apostles, endowed with the Holy Ghost, and
authorized by their divine Master, come next in order to be read.
Nothing can be more interesting and edifying, than the history of their
actions--of the piety, zeal, and courage, with which they preached the
glad tidings of salvation--and of the various exertions of the wonderful
powers conferred on them by the Holy Spirit, for the confirmation of
their mission.
The character of St. Paul, and his miraculous conversion, demand your
particular attention: most of the apostles were men of low birth and
education; but St. Paul was a Roman citizen; that is, he possessed the
privileges annexed to the freedom of the city of Rome, which was
considered as an high distinction in those countries that had been
conquered by the Romans. He was educated amongst the most learned sect
of the Jews, and by one of their principal doctors. He was a man of
extraordinary eloquence, as appears not only in his writings, but in
several speeches in his own defence, pronounced before governors and
courts of justice, when he was called to account for the doctrines he
taught. He seems to have been of an uncommon warm temper, and zealous in
whatever religion he professed: this zeal, before his conversion, showed
itself in the most unjustifiable actions, by furiously persecuting the
innocent Christians: but though his actions were bad, we may be sure his
intentions were good; otherwise we should not have seen a miracle
employed to convince him of his mistake, and to bring him into the right
way. This example may assure us of the mercy of God towards mistaken
consciences, and ought to inspire us with the most enlarged charity and
good-will towards those whose erroneous principles mislead their
conduct: instead of resentment and hatred against their persons, we
ought only to feel an active wish of assisting them to find the truth;
since we know not whether, if convinced, they might not prove, like St.
Paul, chosen vessels to promote the honour of God, and of true religion.
It is not my intention now to enter with you into any of the arguments
for the truth of Christianity, otherwise it would be impossible wholly
to pass over that which arises from this remarkable conversion, and
which has been so admirably illustrated by a noble writer,[19] whose
tract on this subject is in every body's hand.
Next follow the EPISTLES, which make a very important part of the New
Testament: and you cannot be too much employed in reading them. They
contain the most excellent precepts and admonitions, and are of
particular use in explaining more at large several doctrines of
Christianity, which we could not so fully comprehend without them. There
are indeed in the Epistles of St. Paul many passages hard to be
understood; such, in particular, are the first eleven chapters to the
Romans; the greater part of his Epistles to the Corinthians and
Galatians; and several chapters of that to the Hebrews. Instead of
perplexing yourself with these more obscure passages of Scripture, I
would wish you to employ your attention chiefly on those that are plain;
and to judge of the doctrines taught in the other parts, by comparing
them with what you find in these. It is through the neglect of this
rule, that many have been led to draw the most absurd doctrines from
the Holy Scriptures. Let me particularly recommend to your careful
perusal the 12th, 13th, 14th, and 15th chapters of the Epistle to the
Romans. In the 14th chapter, St. Paul has in view the difference between
the Jewish and Gentile (or Heathen) converts at that time; the former
were disposed to look with horror on the latter, for their impiety in
not paying the same regard to the distinctions of days and meats, that
they did; and the latter, on the contrary, were inclined to look with
contempt on the former, for their weakness and superstition. Excellent
is the advice which the apostle gives to both parties: he exhorts the
Jewish converts not to judge, and the Gentiles not to despise;
remembering that the kingdom of heaven is not meat and drink, but
righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost. Endeavour to
conform yourself to this advice; to acquire a temper of universal
candour and benevolence: and learn neither to despise nor condemn any
persons on account of their particular modes of faith and worship;
remembering always, that goodness is confined to no party; that there
are wise and worthy men among all the sects of Christians; and that, to
his own master, every one must stand or fall.
I will enter no further into the several points discussed by St. Paul in
his various epistles--most of them too intricate for your understanding
at present, and many of them beyond my abilities to state clearly. I
will only again recommend to you, to read those passages frequently,
which, with so much fervour and energy, excite you to the practice of
the most exalted piety and benevolence. If the effusions of a heart,
warmed with the tenderest affection for the whole human race--if
precept, warning, encouragement, example, urged by an eloquence which
such affection only could inspire, are capable of influencing your mind,
you cannot fail to find, in such parts of his epistles as are adapted to
your understanding, the strongest persuasives to every virtue that can
adorn and improve your nature.
The Epistle of St. James is entirely practical, and exceedingly fine;
you cannot study it too much. It seems particularly designed to guard
Christians against misunderstanding some things in St. Paul's writings,
which have been fatally perverted to the encouragement of a dependance
on faith alone, without good works. But the more rational commentators
will tell you, that by the works of the law, which the apostle asserts
to be incapable of justifying us, he means not the works of moral
righteousness, but the ceremonial works of the Mosaic law; on which the
Jews laid the greatest stress, as necessary to salvation. But St. James
tells us, that, "If any man among us seem to be religious, and bridleth
not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, that man's religion is
vain." And that pure religion, and undefiled before God the Father, is
this: "to visit the fatherless and widow in their affliction, and to
keep himself unspotted from the world." Faith in Christ, if it produce
not these effects, he declares is dead, or of no power.
The Epistles of St. Peter are also full of the best instructions and
admonitions, concerning the relative duties of life; amongst which are
set forth the duties of women in general, and of wives in particular.
Some part of the second Epistle is prophetical; warning the church of
false teachers, and false doctrines, which would undermine morality, and
disgrace the cause of Christianity.
The first of St. JOHN is written in a highly figurative style, which
makes it in some parts hard to be understood: but the spirit of divine
love, which it so fervently expresses, renders it highly edifying and
delightful.--That love of God and of man, which this beloved apostle so
pathetically recommends, is in truth the essence of religion, as our
Saviour himself informs us.
The book of REVELATIONS contains a prophetical account of most of the
great events relating to the Christian church, which were to happen from
the time of the writer, St. John, to the end of the world. Many learned
men have taken a great deal of pains to explain it; and they have done
this in many instances very successfully: but, I think, it is yet too
soon for you to study this part of scripture; some years hence perhaps
there may be no objection to your attempting it, and taking into your
hands the best expositions to assist you in reading such of the most
difficult parts of the New Testament as you cannot now be supposed to
understand. May Heaven direct you in studying this sacred volume, and
render it the means of making you wise unto salvation! May you love and
reverence, as it deserves, this blessed and invaluable book, which
contains the best rule of life, the clearest declaration of the will
and laws of the Deity, the reviving assurance of favour to true
penitents, and the unspeakably joyful tidings of eternal life and
happiness to all the truly virtuous, through Jesus Christ, the Saviour
and Deliverer of the world!
Adieu.
FOOTNOTE:
[19] Lord Lyttelton.
LETTER IV.
ON THE REGULATION OF THE HEART AND AFFECTIONS.
YOU will have read the New Testament to very little purpose, my dearest
Niece, if you do not perceive the great end and intention of all its
precepts to be the improvement and regulation of the heart: not the
outward actions alone, but the inward affections, which give birth to
them, are the subjects of those precepts; as appears in our Saviour's
explanation[20] of the commandments delivered to Moses; and in a
thousand other passages of the gospels, which it is needless to recite.
There are no virtues more insisted on, as necessary to our future
happiness, than humility, and sincerity, or uprightness, of heart; yet
none more difficult and rare. Pride and vanity, the vices opposite to
humility, are the sources of almost all the worst faults, both of men
and women. The latter are particularly accused--and not without
reason--of _vanity_, the vice of _little_ minds, chiefly conversant with
trifling subjects. Pride and vanity have been supposed to differ so
essentially, as hardly ever to be found in the same person. "Too proud
to be vain," is no uncommon expression; by which I suppose is meant, too
proud to be over anxious for the admiration of others: but this seems to
be founded on mistake. Pride is, I think, an high opinion of one's self,
and an affected contempt of others: I say _affected_, for that it is not
a _real_ contempt is evident from this, that the lowest object of it is
important enough to torture the proud man's heart, only by refusing him
the homage and admiration he requires. Thus Haman could relish none of
the advantages in which he valued himself, whilst that Mordecai, whom he
pretended to despise, sat still in the king's gate, and would not bow to
him as he passed. But as the proud man's contempt of others is only
assumed with a view to awe them into reverence by his pretended
superiority, so it does not preclude an extreme inward anxiety about
their opinions, and a slavish dependance on them for all his
gratifications. Pride, though a distinct passion, is seldom
unaccompanied by vanity, which is an extravagant desire of admiration.
Indeed, I never saw an insolent person, in whom a discerning eye might
not discover a very large share of vanity, and of envy, its usual
companion. One may nevertheless see many _vain_ persons who are not
_proud_; though they desire to be admired, they do not always admire
themselves: but as timid minds are apt to despair of those things they
earnestly wish for, so you will often see the woman who is most anxious
to be thought handsome, most inclined to be dissatisfied with her looks,
and to think all the assistance of art too little to attain the end
desired. To this cause, I believe, we may generally attribute
affectation; which seems to imply a mean opinion of one's own real form,
or character, while we strive against nature to alter ourselves by
ridiculous contortions of body, or by feigned sentiments and unnatural
manners. There is no art so mean, which this mean passion will not
descend to for its gratification--no creature so insignificant, whose
incense it will not gladly receive. Far from despising others, the vain
man will court them with the most assiduous adulation; in hopes, by
feeding their vanity, to induce them to supply the craving wants of his
own. He will put on the guise of benevolence, tenderness, and
friendship, where he feels not the least degree of kindness, in order to
prevail on good-nature and gratitude to like and to commend him; but if,
in any particular case, he fancies the airs of insolence and contempt
may succeed better, he makes no scruple to assume them; though so
awkwardly, that he still appears to depend on the breath of the person
he would be thought to despise. Weak and timid natures seldom venture to
try this last method; and, when they do, it is without the assurance
necessary to carry it on with success: but a bold and confident mind
will oftener endeavour to command and extort admiration than to court
it. As women are more fearful than men, perhaps this may be one reason
why they are more vain than proud; whilst the other sex are oftener
proud than vain. It is, I suppose, from some opinion of a certain
greatness of mind accompanying the one vice rather than the other, that
many will readily confess their pride, nay, and even be proud of their
pride, whilst every creature is ashamed of being convicted of vanity.
You see, however, that the end of both is the same, though pursued by
different means; or, if it differs, it is in the importance of the
subject. Whilst men are proud of power, of wealth, dignity, learning, or
abilities, young women are usually ambitious of nothing more than to be
admired for their persons, their dress, or their most trivial
accomplishments. The homage of men is their grand object; but they only
desire them to be in love with their persons, careless how despicable
their minds appear, even to these their pretended adorers. I have known
a woman so vain as to boast of the most disgraceful addresses; being
contented to be thought meanly of, in points the most interesting to her
honour, for the sake of having it known, that her person was attractive
enough to make a man transgress the bounds of respect due to her
character, which was not a vicious one, if you except this intemperate
vanity. But this passion too often leads to the most ruinous actions,
always corrupts the heart, and, when indulged, renders it, perhaps, as
displeasing in the sight of the Almighty, as those faults which find
least mercy from the world; yet, alas! it is a passion so prevailing, I
had almost said universal, in our sex, that it requires all the efforts
of reason, and all the assistance of grace, totally to subdue it.
Religion is indeed the only effectual remedy for this evil. If our
hearts are not dedicated to God, they will in some way or other be
dedicated to the world, both in youth and age. If our actions are not
constantly referred to him, if his approbation and favour is not our
principal object, we shall certainly take up with the applause of men,
and make that the ruling motive of our conduct. How melancholy is it to
see this phantom so eagerly followed through life! whilst all that is
truly valuable to us is looked upon with indifference; or, at best, made
subordinate to this darling pursuit!
Equally vain and absurd is every scheme of life that is not subservient
to, and does not terminate in, that great end of our being--the
attainment of real excellence, and of the favour of God. Whenever this
becomes sincerely our object, then will pride and vanity, envy,
ambition, covetousness, and every evil passion, lose their power over
us; and we shall, in the language of scripture, "walk humbly with our
God." We shall then cease to repine under our natural or accidental
disadvantages, and feel dissatisfied only with our moral defects;--we
shall love and respect all our fellow-creatures, as the children of the
same dear parent, and particularly those who seek to do his will: All
our delight will be "in the saints that are in the earth, and in such as
excel in virtue." We shall wish to cultivate good-will, and to promote
innocent enjoyment wherever we are:--we shall strive to please, not from
vanity, but from benevolence. Instead of contemplating our own fancied
perfections, or even real superiority with self-complacence, religion
will teach us to "look into ourselves, and fear:" the best of us, God
knows, have enough to fear, if we honestly search into all the dark
recesses of the heart, and bring out every thought and intention fairly
to the light, to be tried by the precepts of our pure and holy religion.
It is with the rules of the gospel we must compare ourselves, and not
with the world around us; for we know, "that the many are wicked: and
that we must not be conformed to the world."
How necessary it is frequently thus to enter into ourselves, and search
out our spirit, will appear, if we consider, how much the human heart is
prone to insincerity, and how often, from being first led by vanity into
attempts to impose upon others, we come at last to impose on ourselves.
There is nothing more common than to see people fall into the most
ridiculous mistakes, with regard to their own characters; but I can by
no means allow such mistakes to be unavoidable, and therefore innocent:
they arose from voluntary insincerity, and are continued for want of
that strict honesty towards ourselves and others, which the Scripture
calls "_singleness of heart_;" and which in modern language is termed
_simplicity_,--the most enchanting of all qualities, esteemed and
beloved in proportion to its rareness.
He, who "requires truth in the inward parts," will not excuse our
self-deception; for he has commanded us to examine ourselves diligently,
and has given us such rules as can never mislead us, if we desire the
truth, and are willing to see our faults, in order to correct them. But
this is the point in which we are defective; we are desirous to gain our
own approbation, as well as that of others, at a cheaper rate than that
of being really what we ought to be; and we take pains to persuade
ourselves that we are that which we indolently admire and approve.
There is nothing in which this self-deception is more notorious than in
what regards sentiment and feeling. Let a vain young woman be told that
tenderness and softness is the peculiar charm of the sex, that even
their weakness is lovely, and their fears becoming, and you will
presently observe her grow so tender as to be ready to weep for a fly;
so fearful, that she starts at a feather; and so weak-hearted, that the
smallest accident quite overpowers her. Her fondness and affection
become fulsome and ridiculous; her compassion grows contemptible
weakness; and her apprehensiveness the most abject cowardice: for, when
once she quits the direction of Nature, she knows not where to stop, and
continually exposes herself by the most absurd extremes.
Nothing so effectually defeats its own ends as this kind of affectation:
for though warm affections and tender feelings are beyond measure
amiable and charming, when perfectly natural, and kept under the due
control of reason and principle, yet nothing is so truly disgusting as
the affectation of them, or even the unbridled indulgence of such as are
real.
Remember, my dear, that our feelings were not given us for our ornament,
but to spur us on to right actions. Compassion, for instance, was not
impressed upon the human heart, only to adorn the fair face with tears,
and to give an agreeable languor to the eyes; it was designed to excite
our utmost endeavours to relieve the sufferer. Yet, how often have I
heard that selfish weakness, which flies from the sight of distress,
dignified with the name of tenderness!--"My friend is, I hear, in the
deepest affliction and misery;--I have not seen her--for indeed I cannot
bear such scenes--they affect me too much!--those who have less
sensibility are fitter for this world;--but, for my part, I own, I am
not able to support such things.--I shall not attempt to visit her, till
I hear she has recovered her spirits." This have I heard said, with an
air of complacence; and the poor selfish creature has persuaded herself
that she had finer feelings than those generous friends, who are sitting
patiently in the house of mourning, watching, in silence, the proper
moment to pour in the balm of comfort;--who suppressed their own
sensations, and only attended to those of the afflicted person; and
whose tears flowed in secret, whilst their eyes and voice were taught to
enliven the sinking heart with the appearance of cheerfulness.
That sort of tenderness which makes us useless, may indeed be pitied and
excused, if owing to natural imbecility; but, if it pretends to
loveliness and excellence, it becomes truly contemptible.
The same degree of active courage is not to be expected in woman as in
man; and, not belonging to her nature, it is not agreeable in her: but
passive courage--patience, and fortitude under sufferings--presence of
mind, and calm resignation in danger--are surely desirable in every
rational creature; especially in one professing to believe in an
over-ruling Providence, in which we may at all times quietly confide,
and which we may safely trust with every event that does not depend upon
our own will. Whenever you find yourself deficient in these virtues, let
it be a subject of shame and humiliation--not of vanity and
self-complacence: do not fancy yourself the more amiable for that which
really makes you despicable; but content yourself with the faults and
weaknesses that belong to you, without putting on more by way of
ornament. With regard to tenderness, remember that compassion is best
shown by an ardour to relieve; and affection, by assiduity to promote
the good and happiness of the persons you love; that tears are
unamiable, instead of being ornamental, when voluntarily indulged; and
can never be attractive but when they flow irresistibly, and avoid
observation as much as possible: the same may be said of every other
mark of passion. It attracts our sympathy, if involuntary, and not
designed for our notice--It offends, if we see that it is purposely
indulged and obtruded on our observation.