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would it have been to have sent it to the heathen, who know not God, and where $12 (annually) would educate a youth.May 1, O Lord, make better use of my time and talents, and may I be employed cither in working or reading to gain useful instruction.” The subjoined resolutions show regular, systematic, and persevering efforts to advance in holiness, and be useful in the world. * This morning I arose full of new resolutions, viz.—1. To employ my time more for working for the poor and destitute. 2. To read God's holy word oftener than I have done. 3. To worship my Lord and Saviour oftener in my closet. 4. To rerove my former associates more than I #. done. 5. In time of prayer to collect my wandering thoughts.' She embraced every opportunity to conoverse with her acquaintance on the subject of religion; but not satisfied with this she wrote several letters to her youthful friends. The following, copied into her journal, is part of a letter which she wrote to two of them. “My friends, the Lord commands you to choose this day whom you will serve, God or Mammon. Choose which you will, life or death, they are set before you. Can you bear to see all your friends travelling on to Canaan's happy shore, and you left behind 2 O, lay your so down at the feet of Christ; even now he stands with outstretched arms, waits for you to receive his kind invitations. The angel Gabriel waits to carry the blessed news.I must tell you, I have thought this long time, that you were going back into the world ; but, my j. if you are, what will be the consequences ! Perhaps you are saying, we will wait a little longer, and we will grow better; but, dear iriends, though I am not capable of giving instruction myself, [yet] as I hope I have been brought from nature's darkness, into marvellous light, I feel it my duty to write a short epistle, or converse with you on this important subject. O will you not come with us! The Lord does not say to-morrow; but he says now, if ye will hear my voice, harden not your hearts.Do you think the Lord will be more ready to-morrow than to-day : No : my precious friends, perhaps you may grieve the boly Spirit, or perhaps your life will not be spared. Do go to Christ, and there prostrate yourself, saying, ‘ I can but perish if I go—I am resolved to try,’ &c.; but
no one was ever known to perish there yet. Where would you go, if you were to die this moment Choose which you will have—life or death—they are set before you." In another letter, to two of her youthful companions, she says, among many other things: “It is of great importance i. you to make your peace with God, and delay no longer. There are a great many youths, younger than you are, in distress, crying, “what shall I do to be saved o' Will you answer me this question, have you ever attempted to covenant with God—to give yourself solemnly and irrevocably to him —hoping for acceptance through Christ alone—taking God in Christ as the covenant God, and satisfying portion of your souls 2 The Lord's Spirit has been striving with each of you for this long time. I am afraid you will grieve it away; if you do, what will be the consequence 2 God invites, commands, and intreats of you to repent. There is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth. Say, cannot you love the Lord Jesus Christ, when he has done so much for us * God gave his only begotten son to die, that we, through him, might live. Will you not give yourselves away to the Saviour of sinners, and trust in him for salvation ? Will you tell me what is the reason you will not repent, and be one of the followers of Christ 2 I pray and beseech you that you will give no
slumber to your eye-lids, until each of you
have found an interest in Christ. Would not your friends and relations rejoice very much to see you travelling on to Zion ?— Will you answer me this question; if you should lay your heads on your pillow this night to sleep, and awake no more, where would your souls be, and how would you org. at the day of judgment 2' uch was the dear child whose life was so interesting, and whose death so affecting. Such were her exercises and views, after her heart was changed by grace — Such were her reslections upon life, and prospects in view of eternity. Such, it is hoped, is now, and will be for ever her joy and rejoicing in heaven. O may there be many such children and youth ! Her lovely face we shall see, her sweet voice we shall hear no more. Removed from all objects of earth, time and sense, she reposes in the bosom of the Saviour's love —but being dead, yet speaketh—still feels for the young—still beseeches them to be reconciled to God, and follow her, as she followed Christ. ** ---
?ingtuerg to torresponbentg.
* A. Z. ; B. ; and D. U. have been received
For the Christian Spectator. Professor Everett's definition of Christian.
A late Sermon by Professor Everett, of Harvard College, contains the following sketch of the christian character:—“Be upright and honourable, punctual and trusty in the affairs of life; let your word and your promise be sure and faithful; your intercourse kind, friendly and open; be not too forward, but always ready for every kind and charitable work; let your houses be the abode of decency and of order, of purity and of peace; enter with moderation into the cheerful and innocent pleasures of life, for which Heaven has given us the senses, the faculties and the tastes; build an altar of family worship in your dwellings; and be not superstitiously precise, but regular and punctual in your attendance on the public worship of this place, and you will not need to assert your claim to the name and character of christians.”
In this full-length portrait of a Unitarian christian, what trace is there which we do not find in thousands, and tens of thousands around us, who are moral, charitable, warm-hearted, and punctual in the observance of religious institutions; and who yet are supremely devoted to the world, actuated solely by its principles, immersed in the pursuit of merely temporal good, and who are too honest to make the slightest pretensions to the character of those who “walk by faith and not by sight?” What is there that may not be found in the consistent Deist, who on his own principles, is bound to the exercise of
piety towards God, and of justice and benevolence to his fellow-men P What is there, except the external rites of worship, which was not actually found, in no ordinary degree, in the sceptic, Hume; and yet Mr. Everett goes on to assure his hearers who possess this character, “You will require no ingenious defence of your tenets; you will not need the aid of learning and of eloquence; you will not need to ask for respect and chariity; they will be more than paid, they will be given, they will be showered upon you.”
Religious o then, constitutes no part in the character of a Unitarian christian; for it is undeniable that a man may be all that is here described, while he rejects every doctrine of the scriptures, except the being of a God. Besides, all that is enjoined, reaches merely the external conduct. Not a word escapes the preacher as to the principles or motives which control the outward act : nothing which excludes the most abandoned hypocrite, who puts on the mask of virtue to accomplish his designs.But Mr. E. it may be said, undoubtedly meant to imply that a man should be sincere in the conduct specified. Be it so. May not a man be sincerely “upright and honourable, punctual and trusty,” from motives of selfishness, from a sense of shame, or the influence of early habits and associations 2 May he not be “kind, friendly, and charitable” from the force of those instincts and feelings, which are implanted at our birth, and which are sometimes stronger in the notoriously vicious,
than in the established christian?— Would not a refined taste alone dictate that his house should be “the abode of decency and of order, of purity and of peace”; May not fam
ily and public worship be the cold
tribute of the understanding, without one correspondent emotion of the heart? or the transient burst of sympathy, the enlivening glow of sublimity, or the offspring of a mistaken and selfish gratitude P Let all these qualities be united in their liveliest exercise, and most graceful proportions, and still without the controling influence of supreme love to God, they are pronounced by the apostle to be “as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal.” What shall we say of a christian, in a high-wrought sketch of whose character, no trace of repentance is found? no intimation of a daily conflict with indwelling sin nothing of his reliance on the Holy Spirit for strength? of his being “crucified to the world, and the world crucified to him 2– What would the apostle Paul have said to a christian who rejects the atonement of the Redeemer; who is not “justified by his blood,” or found “glorifying in nothing save the righteousness of Christ;” who pours forth no servent thanksgiving “to Him who loved us and washed us from our sins in his own blood;” who makes no self-denying exertions to bear the glad tidings of eternal life to the heathen nations P What would the Saviour say to that christian, who lays claim to no higher qualifications than those of that amiable youth whom He rejected, when on earth, as destitute of holiness? Mr. Everett has honestly disclosed the result of Unitarian principles. A system which tears the doctrine of Atonement from the christian dispensation, and makes nothing necessary to vindicate the character and uphold the government of God in the pardon of sinners, must of necessity reduce sin to a trivial evil. It changes the whole aspect of the scriptures as to the character and condition of fallen man. It takes away all ground of
reliance on the merits of Christ, and of gratitude to Him as the author of salvation. Repentance becomes less pungent, as the evil of sin is extenuated; the necessity of christian watchfulness is proportionally diminished; conformity to the world becomes less guilty and less dangerous; the line of separation between the christian and the sober moralist is obliterated, and that change of heart which produces the christian character, requires no influence of divine grace, but merely the gradual culture of our social feelings, and the subjection of the passions to the control of reason. It is not surprising, when we consider what human nature is, that this accommodating system is popular in many of our large towns. What can be more gratifying to a class of highspirited and worldly minded men, who are bent on obtaining the name and character of christians, but who are held back by the firmness of a faithful minister, who flashes their true character in their face, and from tenderness to their souls repels them from the circle of that covenant to which their hearts cannot subscribe— what can be more gratifying than that false and fatal liberality which breaks down the barriers between the church and the world; sets aside the merits of the Redeemer; disclaims the necessity of renewing grace; and reduces the standard of christian character to the principles and convenience of the natural man P. Where such a system prevails, what motive has any man to be an infidel, when all that is humbling to the carnal mind, is obliterated from the scriptures P. The fact so confidently urged by Dr. Ware, that the ranks of open Infidelity have been deserted since the prevalence of Unitarianism, is perfectly natural, and carries with it the condemnation of his cause. That the spirit of Unitarianism is a compromise with the spirit of the world, must be evident to every one who has traced its progress in England or in this country. A remarkable fact in confirmation of this statement, is, that a leading Unitarian clergyman in Boston, has recently invited the whole body of his congregation, without even the formality of a public profession, to commune at the table of Christ.— Let our churches ponder this subject deeply; and let every man who is seduced by the allurements which are spread in the path of Unitarianism, look at the precipice to which it leads. B
= A sermon.
2 Cor. vii. 10–The sorrow of the world worketh death.
By the sorrow of the world may be understood those griefs and afflictions of the present life, which are endured without religion. These may be produced by temporal calamity, or by the illumination of the Spirit causing cenviction of sin. When it is declared that these sorrows of the world work death, it is not to be understood that this is always the fact. Thousands have been rescued from death by means of sanctified afflictions, and all who are saved, experience doubtless more or less conviction of sin, which serves as a schoolmaster to bring them to Christ.— But in these cases another influence interposes, and prevents the regular catastrophe to which these causes alone would have conducted the soul. It is therefore the tendency and termination of these two streams of worldly sorrow, which it is proposed to trace in this discourse. With respect to the effect of unsanctified sorrow, occasioned by temporal calamities, it is observed,
1. That it sometimes works death by increasing the attachment of the sufferer to the world.
The loss of property, when it does not break the spirit, nor wean the heart from idols, augments the desire of gain, and quickens the energies of worldly enterprise. Health restored, after long sickness, if the heart is not
benefitted by the discipline, is enjoyed with new interest and increased forgetfulness of God. The death of a child often increases the attachment of parents to their surviving children, and, by a stronger attraction, draws their hearts away from God. As the shipwrecked mariner clings to the last plank with a desperation proportioned to its insufficiency to save, so do our hearts, when the world fails, and God is not our refuge, cling to the last fragment of worldly good. In all these cases, the providential instruction is lost, and the effort of heaven to withdraw the heart from idols, does but strengthen the destructive alliance. 2. In other cases, the sorrow of the world destroys, by creating a powerful diversion of the attention from God and the concerns of the soul. Through the hardness of the heart the eye of the understanding becomes fixed exclusively upon second causes, and the sufferer does but philosophize and apply to the physician, when he should be seeking after God. The more he suffers, the more intensely are his thoughts fixed upon the causes and the remedy of his disease.— The louder the voice of God, the more profound is his deafness; the more distressing the stroke of the divine rod, the less does the sinner regard the operation of the hand which wields it. When the destroying angel enters towns and cities, then is not the time for religion to revive, and the souls of men to prosper. The attentions to the sick and dying, with the panic influence of fear, withdraw the thoughts from eternity, and “chain them down to sense.” In like manner, sudden reverses in worldly circumstances operate, where there is no religion to counteract the tendency. Such new and powerful demands are made upon the time, attention, and strength of the afflicted man, that he feels as if it were impossible to attend to the concerns of his soul for the present, and then his sorI ow worketh death. 3. Another common effect of the sorrow of the world, is hardness of heart. Instructions repeated and misimproved, harden the heart, and afflictions unsanctified have, upon the same principle, the same effect. At first the stroke of heaven may startle the conscience, but the design of the chastisement being at length disregarded, the conscience slumbers amid the sighs and tears of suffering.— Thus were the chastisements upon the Israelites reiterated, till the whole head was sick, and the whole heart faint; being often reproved, they hardened their neck, and were suddenly destroyed. There is also an insensibility, the effect of sorrow, which results from the frailty of our animal nature. There is a limit to our capacity of feeling, aud excessive grief often terminates in apathy. The man becomes a statue, and his heart, Stone. 4. The sorrow of the world worketh death, in some instances, by producing a murmuring disposition, and rousing the enmity of the heart against God. In prosperity, such feelings were not perceived, nor the possibility of their existence suspected, as the unprovoked adder basking in sunshine feels no rage. But the repeated strokes of the Almighty try the heart, and rouse its latent malignity to contend with God. “What have I done to deserve such chastisement P Why should this affliction fall on me? Why should I suffer so much more than others?” And the feeling of the heart is, that God is unjust, and that the sufferer has cause to be angry. It may here be observed that this Spirit of daring controversy with God, becomes, in all the relations of social life, a spirit of petulance and vexation. The softer social affections seem to be drowned in sorrow, while all the malignant passions of the soul grow rank as in their most congenial soil. No object ministers comfort, but every object, directly or by asso. eiation, occasions sorrow, and thus continued visitation of mental pain
exhausts the patience, and winds up the nervous system to a state of unmanagable irritation. At length, perhaps, a dark cloud of melancholy settles upon the mind, and heart-withering discouragement unmans the soul. Exhausted nature sometimes fails and finds a respite in the grave. But in other instances, a still more deplorable result ensues.— Unmitigated anguish drives the sufserer to seek a momentary alleviation in inebriation; and he drinks though every exhilerating draught, augments the misery of his condition and shakes his soul with increased alarms. And now, pressed by woes, reason totters on her throne and yields her sceptre to madness or to idiocy; or if strong to suffer, no alleviation comes unsought, an alternative still more terrific remains. Goaded by suffering to desperation, the barriers of life are forced, and the tortured spirit urges its way from destruction on earth, to destruction in hell. II. With respect to that sorrow which results from the illumination of the Spirit, it may be proper to show that it is, strictly speaking, the sorrow of the world. The consideration that this sorrow is an effect of light which God has shed upon the mind, has led some to insist that it has something in it which God regards with complacency, and which renders the strivings of sinners, while under its sole influence, acceptable to God, and available for the attainment of further divine influence and even of conversion. Is it not, say they, an effect of what God has done, and will not the Divine Being be pleased with the effects of his own influence upon the heart? But the position, that God must needs be pleased with all the consequences which result from his power as exerted upon free agents, is most fallacious and absurd. Such agents always have the power of perverting his blessings, so that what God does for their good they may turn to evil. God upholds all the faculties of free agency, but is he of course, pleased