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WILBERFORCE, WILLIAM (1759-1833), was a philanthropist and advocate of the abolition of the slave trade.

Born at Hull, he was educated at St. John's College, Cambridge. In 1780 he became M.P. for Hull, later for Yorkshire, and formed an intimate friendship with William Pitt (Prime Minister of Britain), whose devoted supporter he was. It was while traveling on the continent 1784-5 that he came under the influence of Philip Doddridge's book The Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul. Reading his NT reading he was converted to Evangelicalism and determined to lead henceforth a strictly Christian life.

In this purpose he was guided by John Newton, who opposed his wish to take Holy Orders and persuaded him to serve the cause of Christianity in Parliament, a vocation for which he was particularly well fitted by his oratorical gifts. In 1787 he founded a society for the reformation of manners. About the same time, under the influence of T. Clarkson, he began to interest himself in the slave trade, which he determined to take up in Parliament. In 1797 he settled at Clapham, where he became a prominent member of the so-called 'Clapham Sect'.

His Practical View of the Prevailing Religious System of Professed Christians (1797), a call to take seriously the duties of a Christian, esp. those of repentance and hatred of sin, enjoyed great popularity and established his reputation as the acknowledged leader of the Evangelical party. He contributed generously to the charities of Hannah More and helped in the foundation of the Church Missionary Society (1798) and the Bible Society (1803).

Throughout these years the abolition of the slave trade continued to be his chief concern, and after many vicissitudes the Bill, which had repeatedly been refused passage in the Lords, finally became law in 1807. Later he supported the movement for the complete abolition of slavery, which was effected by the Emancipation Act of 1833, shortly before his death. In 1813 he defended Catholic Emancipation; he also advocated the introduction of English missionaries into India and long championed the cause of Sunday observance. In 1825 he resigned his seat in Parliament owing to failing health. ---adapted from the Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, Pg. 1479 and Christian History Institute sources.

VIEW OF THE MODERN RELIGIOUS SYSTEM

I pity the man who can travel from Dan to Beersheba, and cry "It is all barren." No man has a right to be idle--Not to speak of that great work which we all have to accomplish, and surely the whole attention of a short and precarious life is not more than an eternal interest may well require; where is it that in such a world as this, health, and leisure and affluence, may not find some ignorance to instruct, some wrong to redress, some want to supply, some misery to alleviate? Shall Ambition and Avarice never sleep? Shall they never want objects on which to fasten? Shall they be so observant to discover, so acute to discern, so eager, so patient to pursue, and shall the benevolence of Christians want employment? Yet thus life rolls away with too many of us in a course of "shapeless idleness." Its recreations constitute its chief business. Watering places--the sports of the field--cards! never failing cards!--the assembly--the theatre--all contribute their aid--amusements are multiplied, and combined, and varied, "to fill up the void of a listless and languid life;" and by the judicious use of these different resources, there is often a kind of sober settled plan of domestic dissipation, in which, with all imaginable decency, year after year wears away in unprofitable vacancy.

Even old age finds us pacing in the same road of amusements, which our early youth had tracked out. Meanwhile, being conscious that we are not giving in to any flagrant vice, perhaps that we are guilty of no irregularity, and it may be, that we are not neglecting the offices of Religion, we persuade ourselves, that we need not be uneasy. In the main, we do not fall below the general standard of morals, of the class and station to which we belong, we may therefore allow ourselves to glide down the stream, without apprehension of the consequences.

Some, of a character often hardly to be distinguished from the class we have been just describing, take up with sensual pleasures. The chief happiness of their lives consists in one species or another of animal gratification; and these persons perhaps will be found to compose a pretty large description. It will be remembered that it belongs not to our purpose to speak of the grossly and scandalously profligate, who renounce all pretensions to the name of Christians; but of those who, maintaining a certain decency of character, and perhaps being tolerably observant of the forms of Religion, may yet be not improperly termed sober sensualists. These, though less impetuous and more measured, are not less staunch and steady, than the professed votaries of licentious pleasure, in the pursuit of their favorite objects. "Mortify the flesh, with its affections and lusts," is the Christian precept; a soft luxurious course of habitual indulgence, is the practice of the bulk of modern Christians; and that constant moderation, that wholesome discipline of restraint and self-denial, which are requisite to prevent the unperceived encroachments of the inferior appetites, seem altogether diffused, as the exploded austerities of monkish superstition. Christianity calls her professors to a state of diligent watchfulness and active services. But the persons of whom we are now speaking, forgetting alike the duties they owe to themselves and to their fellow creatures, often act as though their condition were meant to be a state of uniform indulgence, and vacant, unprofitable sloth. To multiply the comforts of affluence, to provide for the gratifications of appetite, to be luxurious without diseases, and indolent without lassitude, seems the chief study of their lives. Nor can they be clearly exempted from this class, who, by a common error, substituting the means for the end, make the preservation of health and spirits, not as instruments of usefulness, but as sources of pleasure, their great business and continual care.

Others again seem more to attach themselves to what have been well termed the "pomps and vanities of this world." Magnificent houses, grand equipages, numerous retinues, splendid entertainments, high and fashionable connections, appear to constitute, in their estimation, the supreme happiness of life. This class too, if we mistake not, will be found numerous in our days; for it must be considered, that it is the heart, set on these things, which constitutes the essential character. It often happens that persons, to whose rank and station these indulgences most properly belong, are most indifferent to them. The undue solicitude about them is more visible in persons of inferior conditions and smaller fortunes, in whom it is not rarely detected by the studious contrivances of a misapplied ingenuity to reconcile parade with economy, and glitter at a cheap rate. But this temper of display and competition is a direct contrast to the lowly, modest, unassuming carriage of the true Christian; and wherever there is an evident effort and struggle to excel in the particulars here in question, a manifest with thus to rival superiors, to outstrip equals, to dazzle inferiors; it is manifest the great end of life, and of all its possessions, is too little kept in view, and it is to be feared that the gratification of a vain ostentatious humor, is the predominant disposition of the heart.

As there is a sober sensuality, so is there also a sober avarice, and a sober ambition. The commercial and the professional world compose the chief sphere of their influence. They are often recognized and openly avowed, as just master principles of action. But where this is not the case, they assume such plausible shapes, are called by such specious names, and urge such powerful pleas, that they are received with cordiality, and suffered to gather strength without suspicion. The seducing considerations of diligence in our calling, of success in our profession, of making handsome provisions for our children, beguile our better judgments. "We rise early, and take late rest, and eat the bread of carefulness." In our few intervals of leisure, our exhausted spirits require refreshment; the serious concerns of our immortal souls, are matters of speculation too grave and gloomy to answer the purpose, and we fly to something that may better deserve the name of relaxation, till we are again summoned to the daily labors of our employment.

Meanwhile Religion seldom comes in our way, scarcely occurs to our thoughts; and when some secret misgivings begin to be felt on this head, company soon drowns, amusements dissipate, or habitual occupations insensibly displace or smother the rising apprehension. Professional and commercial men perhaps, especially when they happen to be persons of more than ordinary reflection, or of early habits of piety not quite worn away, easily quiet their consciences by the plea, that necessary attention to their business leaves them no time to think on these serious subjects at present. "Men of leisure they confess should consider them; they will themselves do it hereafter when they retire; meanwhile they are usefully or at least innocently employed." Thus business and pleasure fill up our time, "and the one thing needful" is forgotten. Respected by others, and secretly applauding ourselves (perhaps congratulating ourselves that we are not like such an one, who is a spendthrift, or a mere man of pleasure, or such another, who is a notorious miser) the true principle of action is no less wanting in us, and personal advancement or the acquisition of wealth, is the object of our supreme desires and predominant pursuit. It would be to presume too much on the reader's patience to attempt a delineation of the characters of the politician, the metaphysician, the scholar, the poet, the virtuoso, the man of taste, in all their varieties.

Of these and many other classes which might be enumerated, suffice it to remark, and to appeal to every man's own experience for the truth of the observation, that they in like manner are often completely engrossed by the objects of their several pursuits. In many of these cases indeed, a generous spirit surrenders itself wholly up with the less reserve, and continues absorbed with the fuller confidence, from the consciousness of not being led to its object by self-interested motives. Here therefore these men are ardent, active, laborious, persevering, and they think, and speak, and act, as those, the whole happiness of whose life turns on the success or failure of their endeavors. When such, as we have seen it, is the undisturbed composure of mere triflers, it is less wonderful that the votaries of learning and of taste, when absorbed in their several pursuits, should be able to check still more easily, any growing apprehension, silencing it by the suggestion, that they are more than harmlessly, that they are meritoriously employed. "Surely the thanks of mankind are justly paid to those more refined spirits, who, superior alike to the seductions of ease, and the temptations of avarice, devote their time and talents to the less gainful labors of increasing the stores of learning, or enlarging the boundaries of science; who are engaged in raising the character and condition of society, by improving the liberal arts, and adding to the innocent pleasures or elegant accomplishments of life."

Let not the writer be so far misunderstood, as to be supposed to insinuate that Religion is an enemy to the pursuits of taste, much less to those of learning and of science. Let these have their due place in the estimation of mankind; but this must not be the highest place. Let them know their just subordination. They deserve not to be the primary concern, for there is another, to which in importance they bear no more proportion, than our span of existence to eternity. Thus the supreme desires of the heart, the centre to which they should tend, losing its attractive force, are permitted without control, to take that course, whatever it may be, which best suits our natural temper, or to which they are impelled by our various situations and circumstances. Sometimes they manifestly appear to be almost entirely confined to a single track; but perhaps more frequently the lines in which they move are so intermingled and diversified, that it becomes not a little difficult, even when we look into ourselves, to ascertain the object by which they are chiefly attracted, or to estimate with precision the amount of their several forces, in the different directions in which they move.

"Know thyself," is in truth an injunction with which the careless and indolent cannot comply. For this compliance it is requisite, in obedience to the Scripture precept, "to keep the heart with all diligence." Mankind are in general deplorably ignorant of their true state; and there are few, perhaps, who have any adequate conception of the real strength of the ties, by which they are bound to the several objects of their attachment, or who are aware how small a share of their regard is possessed by those concerns on which it ought to be supremely fixed. But if it be indeed true, that except the affections of the soul be supremely fixed on God; that unless it be the leading and governing desire, and primary pursuit to possess his favor and promote his glory, we are considered as having transferred our fealty to an usurper, as being in fact revolters from our lawful sovereign; if this be indeed the Scripture doctrine, all the several attachments which have been lately enumerated, of the different classes of society, wherever they interest the affections, and possess the soul in any such measure of strength as deserves to be called predominance, are but so many varied expressions of disloyalty.

God requires to set up his throne in the heart, and to reign in it without a rival; if he be kept out of this right, it matters not by what competitor. The revolt may be more avowed or more secret; it may be the treason of deliberate preference, or of inconsiderate levity; we may be the subjects of a more or less creditable master; we may be employed in services more gross or more refined; but whether the slaves of avarice, of sensuality, of dissipation, of sloth, or the votaries of ambition, of taste, or of fashion; whether supremely governed by vanity and self-love, by the desire of literary fame, or of military glory, we are alike estranged from the dominion of our rightful sovereign. Let not this seem a harsh position; it can appear so only from not adverting to what was shewn to be the essential nature of true Religion. He who bowed the knee to the god of medicine or of eloquence, was no less an idolater, than the worshipper of the deified patrons of lewdness or of theft. In the several cafes which have been specified, the external acts indeed are different, but in principle the disaffection is the same; and unless we return to our allegiance, we must expect the title, and prepare to meet the punishment of rebels, on that tremendous day, when all false colors shall be done away, and (there being no longer any room for the evasions of worldly sophistry, or the smooth plausibilities of worldly language) "that which is often highly esteemed amongst men, shall appear to have been abomination in the sight of God." These fundamental truths seem vanished from the mind, and it follows of course, that every thing is viewed less and less through a religious medium.

To speak no longer of instances wherein we ourselves are concerned, and wherein the unconquerable power of indulged appetite may be supposed to beguile our better judgment, or force us on in defiance of it; not to insist on the motives by which the conduct of men is determined, often avowedly, in what are to themselves the most important incidents of life; what are the judgments which they form in the case of others? Idleness, profusion, thoughtlessness and dissipation, the misapplication of time or of talents, the trifling away of life in frivolous occupations or unprofitable studies; all these things we may regret in those around us, in the view of their temporal effects; but they are not considered in a religious connexion, or lamented as endangering everlasting happiness. Excessive vanity and inordinate ambition are spoken of as weaknesses rather than as sins; even covetousness itself, though a hateful passion, yet, it not extreme, scarcely presents the face of Irreligion. Is some friend, or even acquaintance sick, or has some accident befallen him, how solicitously do we enquire after him, how tenderly do we visit him, how much perhaps do we regret that he has not better advice, how apt are we to prescribe for him, and how should we reproach ourselves, if we were to neglect any means in our power, of contributing to his recovery! But "the mind diseased" is neglected and forgotten--"that is not our affair; we hope (we do not perhaps really believe) that here it is well with him." The truth is, we have no solicitude about his spiritual interest. Here he is treated like the unfortunate traveler in the Gospel; we look upon him; we see but too well his sad condition, but (Priest and Levite alike) we pass by on the other side, and leave him to the officious tenderness of some poor despised Samaritan. Nay, take the case of our very children, when our hearts being most interested to promote their happiness, we must be supposed most desirous of determining on right principles, and where therefore the real standard of our deliberate judgments may be indisputably ascertained; in their education and marriage, in the choice of their professions, in our comparative consideration and judgment of the different parts of their several characters, how little do we reflect that they are immortal beings! Health, learning, credit, the amiable and agreeable qualities; above all, fortune and success in life, are taken, and not unjustly taken, into the account; but how small a share in forming our opinions is allowed to the probable effect which may be produced on their eternal interests! Indeed the subjects of our mutual inquiries and congratulations, and condolences, prove but too plainly what considerations are in these cases uppermost in our thought. Such are the fatal and widely spreading effects, which but too naturally follow from the admission of the grand fundamental error before mentioned, that of not considering Religion as a principle of universal application and command.

Robbed of its best energies, Religion now takes the form of a cold compilation of restraints and prohibitions. It is looked upon simply as a set of penal statutes; these, though wise and reasonable, are, however, so far as they extend, abridgments of our natural liberty, and nothing which comes to us in this shape is extremely acceptable. Considering moreover, that the matter of them is not in general very palatable, and that the partiality of every man where his own cause is in question, will be likely to make him construe them liberally in his own favor, we might beforehand have formed a tolerable judgment of the manner in which they are actually treated. Sometimes we attend to the words, rather than to the spirit of Scripture injunctions, overlooking the principle they involve, which a better acquaintance with the word of God would have clearly taught us to infer from them. At others, "the Spirit of an injunction is all; "and this we contrive to collect so dexterously, as thereby to relax or annul the strictness of the terms.--"Whatever is not expressly forbidden cannot be very criminal; whatever is not positively enjoined, cannot be indispensably necessary. If we do not offend against the laws, what more can be expected from us? The persons to whom the strict precepts of the gospel were given, were in very different circumstances from those in which we are placed. The injunctions were drawn rather tighter than is quite necessary, in order to allow for a little relaxation in practice. The expressions of the sacred writers are figurative; the Eastern style is confessedly hyperbolical."

By these and other such dishonest shifts (by which, however, we seldom deceive ourselves, except it be in thinking that we deceive others) the pure but strong morality of the word of God is explained away, and its too rigid canons are softened down, with as much dexterity as is exhibited by those who practice a logic of the same complexion, in order to escape from the obligations of human statutes. Like Swift's Unfortunate Brotyher,* we are sometimes put to difficulties, but our ingenuity is little inferior to theirs. If totidem verbist will not serve our turn, try totidem syllabis; if totidem syllabis fail, try totidem literis; then there is in our case, as well as in theirs, "an allegorical sense" to be adverted to; and if every other resource fail us, we come at last to the same conclusion as the brothers adopted, that after all, those rigorous clauses require some allowance, and a favorable interpretation, and ought to be understood "cumgrano falis." But when the law both in its spirit and its letter is obstinate and incorrigible, what we cannot bend to our purpose we must break. "Our sins we hope are of the smaller order; a little harmless gallantry, a little innocent jollity, a few foolish expletives, which we use from the mere force of habit, meaning nothing by them; a little warmth of coloring and licence of expression; a few freedoms of speech in the gaiety of our hearts, which, though not perhaps strictly correct, none but the over-rigid would think of treating any otherwise than as venial infirmities, and in which very grave and religious men will often take their share, when they may throw off their state, and relax without impropriety. We serve an all-merciful Being, who knows the frailty of our nature, the number and strength of our temptations, and will not be extreme to mark what is done amiss. Even the less lenient judicatures of human institution concede somewhat to the weakness of man. It is an established maxim--"De minimis non curat lex."

We hope we are not worse than the generality. All men are imperfect. We own we have our infirmities; we confess it is so; we wish we were better, and trust as we grow older we shall become so; we are ready to acknowledge that we must be indebted for our admission into a future state of happiness, not to our own merit, but to the clemency of God, and the mercy of our Redeemer." But let not this language be mistaken for that of true Christian humiliation, of which it is the very essence to feel the burden of sin, and to long to be released from it; not let two things be confounded, than which none can be more fundamentally different, the allowed want of universality in our determination and our endeavor to obey the will of God, and that defective accomplishment of our purposes, which even the best of men will too often find reason to deplore. In the persons of whom we have been now speaking, the unconcern with which they can amuse themselves upon the borders of sin, and the easy familiarity with which they can actually dally with it in its less offensive shapes, shew plainly that, distinctly from its consequences, it is by no means the object of their aversion; that there is no love of holiness as such; no endeavor to acquire it, no care to prepare the foul for the reception of this divine principle, and to expel or keep under whatever might be likely to obstruct its entrance, or dispute its sovereignty.

It is indeed a most lamentable consequence of the practice of regarding Religion as a compilation of statutes, and not as an internal principle, that it soon comes to be considered as being conversant about external actions rather than about habits of mind. This sentiment sometimes has even the hardiness to insinuate and maintain itself under the guise of extraordinary concern for practical religion; but it soon discovers the falsehood of this pretension, and betrays its real nature. The expedient, indeed, of attaining to superiority in practice, by not wasting any of the attention on the internal principles from which alone practice can flow, is about as reasonable, and will answer about as well, as the economy of the architect who should account it mere prodigality to expend any of his materials in laying foundations, from an idea that they might be more usefully applied to the raising of the superstructure. We know what would be the fate of such an edifice. It is indeed true, and a truth never to be forgotten, that all pretensions to internal principles of holiness are vain when they are contradicted by the conduct; but it is no less true, that the only effectual way of improving the latter, is by a vigilant attention to the former. It was therefore our blessed Savior's injunction, "Make the tree good" as the necessary means of obtaining good fruit; and the Holy Scriptures abound in admonitions, to let it be our chief business to cultivate our hearts with all diligence, to examine into their state with impartiality, and watch over them with continual care. Indeed it is the Heart which constitutes the Man; and external actions derive their whole character and meaning from the motives and dispositions of which they are the indications. Human judicatures, it is true, are chiefly conversant about the former, but this is only because to our limited perceptions, the latter can seldom be any otherwise clearly ascertained.

The real object of inquiry to human judicatures is the internal disposition; it is to this that they adapt the nature, and proportion the degree, of their punishments. Yet though this be a truth so obvious, so established, that to have insisted on it may seem almost needless; it is a truth of which we are apt to lose fight in the review of our religious character, and with which the habit, of considering Religion as consisting rather in external actions, than internal principles, is at direct and open war. This mode of judging may well be termed habitual; for though by some persons it is advisedly adopted, and openly avowed, yet in many cases for want of due watchfulness, it has stolen insensibly upon the mind; it exists unsuspected, and is practised, like other habits, without consciousness or observation. In what degree soever this pernicious principle prevails, in that degree is the mischief it produces. The vicious affections, like noxious weeds, sprout up and increase of themselves but too naturally; while the graces of the Christian temper exotics in the foil of the human heart, like the more tender productions of the vegetable world, though the light and breath of Heaven must quicken them, require on our part also, in order to their being preserved in health and vigor, constant superintendence and assiduous care. But so far from their being earnestly fought for, or watchfully reared, with unremitted prayers for that Divine Grace, without which all our labors must be ineffectual; such is the result of the principle we are here condemning, that no endeavors are used for their attainment, or they are suffered to droop and die almost without an effort to preserve them. The culture of the mind is less and less attended to, and at length perhaps is almost wholly neglected.

Way being thus made for the unobstructed growth of other tempers, the qualities of which are very different, and often directly opposite, these naturally overspread and quietly possess the mind; their contratriety to the Christian spirit not being discerned, and even perhaps their presence being scarcely acknowledged, except when their existence and their nature are manifested in the conduct by marks, too plain to be overlooked or mistaken. Some of the most important branches of the Christian temper, wherein the bulk of nominal Christians appear eminently and allowedly defective, have been already noticed in this and in the preceding chapter. Many others still remain to be particularized. First, then, it is the comprehensive compendium of the character of true Christians, that "they are walking by faith, and not by sight." By this description is meant, not merely that they so firmly believe in the doctrine of future rewards and punishments, as to be influenced by that persuasion to adhere in the main to the path of duty, though tempted to forsake it by present interest, and present gratification; but farther, that the great truths revealed in Scripture concerning the unseen world, are the ideas for the most part uppermost in their thoughts, and about which habitually their hearts are most interested.

This state of mind contributes, if the expression may be allowed, to rectify the illusions of vision, to bring forward into nearer view those eternal things, which from their remoteness are apt to be either wholly overlooked, or to appear but faintly in the utmost bounds of the horizon; and to remove backward, and reduce to their true comparative dimensions, the objects of the present life, which are apt to fill the human eye, assuming a false magnitude from their vicinity. The true Christian knows from experience however, that the former are apt to fade from the fight, and the latter again to swell on it. He makes it therefore his continual care to preserve those just and enlightened views, which through Divine mercy he has obtained. Not that he will retire from that station obtained. Not that he will retire from that station in the world which Providence seems to have appointed him to fill; he will be active in the business of life, and enjoy its comforts with moderation and thankfulness, but he will not be "totus in illis," he will not give up his whole soul to them, they will be habitually subordinate in his estimation to objects of more importance. The awful truth has sunk deep into his mind, "the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal;" and in the tumult and bustle of life, he is sobered by the still small voice which whispers to him, "the fashion of this world passes away." This circumstance alone must, it is obvious, constitute a vast difference between the habitual temper of this mind, and that of the generality of nominal Christians, who are almost entirely taken up with the concerns of the present world. They know indeed that they are mortal, but they do not feel it. The truth rests in their understandings, and cannot gain admission into their hearts. This speculative persuasion is altogether different from that strong practical impression of the infinite importance of eternal things, which, attended with a proportionate sense of the shortness and uncertainty of all below, while it prompts to activity from a conviction that "the night cometh when no man can work," produces a certain firmness of texture, which hardens us against the buffets of fortune, and prevents our being very deeply penerated by the cares and interests, the goods or evils of this transitory state. Thus this just impression of the relative value of temporal and eternal things, maintains in the foul a dignified composure through all the vicissitudes of life. It quickens our diligence, yet moderates our arder; urges us to just pursuits, yet checks any undue solicitude abuot the success of them, and thereby enables us, in the language of Scripture, "to use this world as not abusing it," rendering us at once beneficial to others, and comfortable to ourselves.

But this is not all--besides the distinction between the nominal and the real Christian, which results from the impressions produced on them respectively by the eternal duration of heavenly things, there is another grounded on their nature, no less marked, nor less important. They are stated in Scripture, not only as entitling themselves to the notice of the true Christian from considerations of interest, but as approving themselves to his judgment from a conviction of excellence, and yet farther, as recommending themselves to his feelings by their being suited to the renewed dispositions of his heart. Indeed were the case otherwise, did not their qualities correspond with his inclinations; however he might endure them on principles of duty, and be coldly conscious of their superior worth, he could not lend himself to them with cordial complacency, much less look to them as the surest source of pleasure. But this is the light in which they are habitually regarded by the true Christian. He walks in the ways of Religion, not by constraint, but willingly; they are to him not only safe, but comfortable; "ways of pleasantness as well as of peace." Not but that here also he is from experience aware of the necessity of constant support, and continual watchfulness; without these, his old estimate of things is apt to return on him, and the former objects of his affections to resume their influence. With earnest prayers, therefore, for the Divine help, with jealous circumspection and resolute self-denial, he guards against, and abstains from, whatever might be likely again to darken his enlightened judgment, or to vitiate his reformed taste; thus making it his unwearied endeavour to grow in the knowledge and love of heavenly things, and to obtain a warmer admiration, and a more cordial relish of their excellence.

That this is a just representation of the habitual judgment, and of the leading dispositions of true Christians, will be abundantly evident, if endeavoring to form ourselves after our proper model, we consult the sacred Scripture. But in vain are Christians there represented as having set their affections on things above, as cordially rejoicing in the service, and delighting in the worship of God. Pleasure and Religion are contradictory terms with the bulk of nominal Christians. They may look back indeed on their religious offices with something of a secret satisfaction, and even feel it during the performance of them, from the idea of being engaged in the discharge of a duty; but this is altogether different from the pleasure which attends an employment in itself acceptable and grateful to us.

The writer must here again guard against being understood to speak of a deficiency in the warmth and vehemence merely of religious affections. Are the service and worship of God pleasant to these persons? It is not asked whether they are delightful. Do they diffuse over the soul anything of that calm complacency, that mild and grateful composure, which bespeaks a mind in good humor with itself and all around it, and engaged in a service suited to its taste, and congenial with its feelings? Let us appeal to that Day which is especially devoted to the offices of Religion; Do they joyfully avail themselves of this blessed opportunity of withdrawing from the business and cares of life; when, without being disquieted by any doubt whether they are not neglecting the duties of their proper callings, they may be allowed to detach their minds from earthly things, that by a fuller knowledge of heavenly objects, and a more habitual acquaintance with them, their hope may grow more "full of immortality?" Is the day cheerfully devoted to those holy exercises for which it was appointed? Do they indeed "come into the courts of God with gladness?" and how are they employed when not engaged in the public services of the day? Are they busied in studying the word of God, in meditating on his perfections, in tracing his providential dispensations, in admiring his works, in revolving his mercies, (above all the transcendent mercies of redeeming love) in singing his praises, "and speaking good of his name?" Do their secret retirements witness the earnestness of their prayers, and the warmth of their thanksgivings, their diligence and impartiality in the necessary work of self-examination, their mindfulness of the benevolent duty of intercession? Is the kind purpose of the institution of a sabbath answered by them, in its being made to their servants and dependents a season of rest and comfort? Does the instruction of their families, or of the more poor and ignorant of their neighbors, possess its due share of their time? If blessed with talents or with affluence, are they sedulously employing a part of this interval of leisure in relieving the indigent, and visiting the sick, and comforting the sorrowful, in forming plans for the good of their fellow creatures, in considering how they may promote both the temporal and spiritual benefit of their friends and acquaintance; or, if theirs be a larger sphere, in devising measures whereby, through the Divine blessing, they may become the honored instruments of the more extended diffusion of religious truth? In the hours of domestic or social intercourse, does their conversation manifest the subject of which their hearts are full? Do their language and demeanor shew them to be more than commonly gentle, kind, and friendly, free from rough and irritating passions? Surely an entire day should not seem long amidst these various employments. It might well be deemed a privilege thus to spend it, in the more immediate presence of our Heavenly Father, in the exercises of humble admiration and grateful homage; of the benevolent, and domestic, and social feelings, and of all the best affections of our nature, prompted by their true motives, conversant about their proper objects, and directed to their noblest end; all sorrows mitigated, all cares suspended, all fears repressed, every angry emotion softened, every envious, or revengeful, or malignant passion expelled; and the bosom, thus quieted, purified, enlarged, ennobled, partaking almost of a measure of the heavenly happiness, and become, for a while, the seat of love, and joy, and confidence, and harmony.

Some indeed there are, who with concern and grief will confess this to be their uncomfortable and melancholy state; who humbly pray, and diligently endeavor, for an imagination less distracted at devotional seasons, for a heart more capable of relishing the excellence of divine things; and who carefully guard against whatever has a tendency to chain down their affections to earthly enjoyments. Let not such be discouraged. It is not they whom we are condemning; but such as, knowing and even acknowledging this to be their case, yet proceed in a way directly contrary; who, scarcely seeming to suspect that any thing is wrong with them, voluntarily acquiesce in a state of mind which is directly contrary to the positive commands of God, which forms a perfect contrast tot he representations given us in Scripture of the Christian character, and accords but too faithfully in one leading feature, with the character of those, who are stated to be the objects of Divine displeasure in this life, and of Divine punishment in the next.

It is not however only in these essential constituents of a devotional frame, that the bulk of nominal Christians are defective. This they freely declare (secretly feeling perhaps some complacency from the frankness of the avowal) to be a higher strain of piety, than that to which they aspire: Their forgetfulness also of some of the leading dispositions of Christianity, is undeniably apparent in their allowed want of the spirit of kindness, and meekness, and gentleness, and patience, and long-suffering; and above all, of that which is the stock on which alone these dispositions can grow and flourish, that humility and lowliness of mind, in which perhaps more than in any other quality, may be said to consist the true essence and vital principle of the Christian temper. These dispositions are not only neglected, but even disavowed and exploded, and their opposites, if not rising to any great height, are acknowledged and applauded. A just pride, a proper and becoming pride, are terms which we daily hear form Christian lips. To possess a high spirit, to behave with a proper spirit, when used ill--by which is meant a quick feeling of injuries, and a promptness in resenting them, entitles to commendation; and a meek-spirited disposition, the highest Scripture eulogium, expresses ideas of disapprobation and contempt. Vanity and vainglory are suffered without interruption to retain their natural possession of the heart.