who assumes to himself airs of importance, and decides with a magisterial tone? Is it the experienced Christian? Is it he who has seen the world, who has examined without haste, and determined without rashness? Is it he who has wrestled hard with fears, conflicted with sin, and been constantly engaged in spiritual exercises? No, verily. It is the novice; it is the superficial; it is he who can converse about experience without having it—he whose mind is so contracted that, only seeing a little, imagines he comprehends the whole. He who hears much, talks more, but thinks not at all. No, reader, it is not the experienced, but the inexperienced, that is proud. Humility is gained in the school of experience. He who knows what human nature is, who has watched the operations of his own mind, and the corrupt propensities of his heart-he who is taught by the divine Spirit, who often contemplates on the glorious perfections of Jehovah, and the unspeakable excellences of his Son, finds no cause for pride. He is humbled in the dust. His thoughts, his affections, his powers, his performances, are all so contaminated, that he loathes himself. He can not pray, but he is humbled at the thought of his imperfection. He can not hear, but he laments how little he profits. He can not read, but he complains how little impression is made. He can not do anything as he would. All this humbles him. "Though I were perfect," said Job, "yet would I not know my soul: I would despise my life. If I justify myself, my own mouth would condemn me." Job ix. 21. But what advantage here? I answer, great in every respect. Happy experience, that conducts to the valley of humility; for here no complaints are heard, no ambitious desires manifested, no grievances magnified; here no envy stings, no jealousy rages, no unhappiness reigns. Here dwell peace and content; here gratitude and love adorn the countenance with pleasant smiles, and fill the heart with unspeakable joy. Here the soul, found in her true situation, welcomes all the revolutions of life without dismay; and at last meets death itself without fear. But this leads us to consider Christian experience as teaching us moderation in our desires and pursuits. The Christian has seen the folly of feeding the imagination with schemes of grandeur and opulence. If, in the course of Providence, his path be made smooth, and his table overflow with temporal comforts, he is thankful; but elevated situations, extensive fame, or great power, are not the objects of his pursuit. He knows that felicity does not consist in the goods of life; that they who have them in the greatest abundance are not the most happy. Worldly prosperity, as it is called, is often rather the seat of anxiety than the place of ease. Thorns grow on that mount as well as roses; yea, there the storm first arrives, and there, too, the danger is the greatest. What, then, it is asked, is the Christian a.man of different feelings from others? Has he not the same senses to be gratified, the same hopes to indulge, the same prospects to allure? Truly, in many respects he has, and, being a man of like passions with others, there have been seasons in his experience when these hopes have been excited, and he has acted too much like others. Forgetting, for a moment, the noble end in view, he has been led aside by some object on which happiness was speciously painted; but, eagerly grasping it, alas! he has found it to be all nothing. The light has expired, and the Christian left to find his way back in darkness and guilt, exclaiming, Wretch that I am, to wander thus, But has he gained nothing by this? Yes, surely. From his own experience, he has found the vanity of ambition and a restless spirit, and that moderation is best in all earthly pursuits. Now it is we hear him saying, "Return unto thy rest, O my soul. To whom should I go but unto thee? Thou art my portion, O Lord. While many say, who will show us any good? Lord, lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon me. Behold I come unto thee, for thou art the Lord my God." Psalm cxvi. 7, Psalm cxix. 57, Psalm iv. 6, 7, Jer. iii. 22. From what he has suffered by afflictive dispensations, he has learnt the lessons of patience and resignation. He knew nothing of these graces till he came to be tried; for "the trial of our faith worketh patience." He finds it useless to murmur: discontent only "turns the rod into a scorpion." He is led from his affliction to his sin, from his sin to his knees. "It is the Lord: let him do what seemeth him good. He is a Sovereign; he must work his own will, he must accomplish his own plan. It is wrong for a worm to struggle under the foot of God, for a rebel to accuse his Sovereign, for a delinquent to criminate his Judge. It is good, therefore, that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord, for he does not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of men." 1 Sam. iii. 18, Lam. iii. 26, 33. Another advantage which the Christian derives from experience is that of candor and forbearance; and by candor we are not to understand that disposition of mind which leads a man to view all actions alike, and to speak equally favorable of all. No; the true Christian will frown upon vice wherever he finds it he will not spare reproof whenever it is necessary, nor be ashamed of that singularity which causes him to differ from the multitude, to whom sin appears as trifling, and by whom it is only considered as an unavoidable infirmity. He knows the weakness of man, he feels the seeds of sin within himself, and dare not boast of what he is, nor can he tell what he may be. He recollects that a Samson, the strongest man, was overcome; a Solomon, the wisest man, acted foolishly; and David, one of the holiest of men, manifested the greatest depravity. He finds there is much truth in the observation, "that there is nothing so silly that some wise man has not said, and nothing so weak that some prudent man has not done." And, indeed, the sacred Scriptures justly observe, "that there is not a just man upon earth that doeth good, and sinneth not." Eccl. vii. 20. There are some unfeeling minds, however, that are ready to condemn all who do not come up to their standard; and there are others, not less culpable, who, blind to their own infirmities, seem to take delight in magnifying those of others. But these are not experienced Christians; these know little of themselves, and less of that religion which breathes nothing but kindness and charity. The experience of the energy and power of the Gospel of Christ teaches him "to bear long, to think no evil, to hope all things, and to endure all things." 1 Cor. xiii. 7. Faults are not magnified into crimes, occasional deviations are not considered as wilful transgressions, ignorance or mistake is not misconstrued into vice. No; the Christian learns to attend to the rule of the apostle, who says, "If a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual restore such an one in the spirit of meekness, considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted. Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ. We, then, that are strong, ought to bear the infirmities of the weak, and not to please ourselves." From what he has seen of the prejudices of men, the distorted medium through which objects are viewed, the credulity of some, and the obstinate |