isfy themselves with their own virtues, will " begin with shame to take the lowest place;" while many, who, in circumstances of difficulty and trial, have had to contend with bad early habits, with incorrect principles of right and wrong, with an unhappy natural temperament, and who, under these difficulties and defects, secured but little complacency from their fellow men, will be called to a higher place, by him who has read their hearts; who has daily heard their prayers for help against temptations; perceived their humiliation and deep contrition for all the infirmities and wanderings from duty, and seen, through all their faltering and imperfect course, the sincere desire and constant effort to serve and please him.

It is God alone, who knows how to understand the effects of false principles, early instilled, which pervert the judgment; of the bias of passion leading astray; of limited and distorted views of Christian duty, and all the other allowances to be made in deciding the Christian character. The world thinks that it is claimed for religious men, that they are better than any other men, in all matters of external duty. This is not so. All that can be claimed is, that they have a principle of action, stronger and better than any other; more efficient in producing every good word and work, and that all other things being equal, religious men would excel those without religion, in every social and moral duty. But when the influences of natural temperament; of early education; of induced habits; of false notions of right and wrong, and

of all the varied circumstances of temptation and trial are to be brought into account, all that can be claimed for religion, is, that it makes men better than they would be without it; that it is a rectifying principle that improves, though in this world, it never perfects the character.

The Bible is the standard of perfect rectitude in every moral duty. The moral man compares his life with it, and takes comfort in thinking how much nearer he approaches it, than many men of piety; the religious man compares his life with it, to realize his defects, to acknowledge his unworthiness and to be quickened in new efforts after love and obedience, at the thought of the sacrifice by which his deficiencies are atoned for, and the love and pity of the Almighty Friend, who can bear with, and pardon all his sins, when they are confessed with penitence and the sincere intention of renewed future efforts at obedience.

Your friend, &c.

13

LETTER XI.

DEAR SIR.

Your last letter contains an objection which is the most commonly urged to the views I have presented, and which it is the most difficult to answer. You say that there is no reasonable ground for dividing all mankind into two classes, one that will go to heaven and be happy forever, while all the rest of the human race, however amiable or virtuous they may be, will go to everlasting misery. You ask me to look at such and such persons, lovely in character, exemplary in duties, using their time and influence to promote the welfare of society, and blessing with their love and care, a family that is growing up under their influence, to usefulness and happiness. You then point me to others, who are much inferior in character and practice, so far as man can discern, and yet because, as you say, they go to evening meetings, and prayer meetings, and support tract distributions, and talk religiously, and follow a certain course of religious operations, will spend an eternity of happiness; while those who seem to you so

much more exemplary, are doomed to everlasting misery.

In regard to this, which I confess is a difficult point to dispose of satisfactorily, I would first remark; suppose I could not say a single word to lessen the difficulty to your mind; suppose it should stand as mysterious, as unreasonable, and as unsatisfactory as it now appears; would it abate or alter the matter of your duty and interest? Would it not still be true, that we can know of nothing in regard to a future state but what the Bible tells us; that we are there told, that there is a world of endless happiness and of eternal misery; that we are told, that one portion of the human race is destined to one, and the rest to the other world; that we cannot be saved by works of righteousness, but by that "faith which works by love;" that this faith is to be obtained as gift of God," while we "work out our own salvation with fear and trembling?" And if this be so, is it not perfect folly and madness for you to live in the neglect of these duties and exposed to such hazards, when it is in your power to secure entire safety, and simply because there are some difficulties in the practical application of these truths, that you do not know how to explain satisfactorily?

"the

Suppose a being with just the same powers of reason, and maturity of intellect as yourself, should suddenly appear here, from a world where pain and evil were never known; where all beings and every event were tending to good only and continually. Suppose he should come to

you and ask for information to guide him safely in his new circumstances. Suppose him to have been before only a spirit, entirely ignorant of the laws of matter, and you begin your instructions. "The Being that made this world," you say, "is perfectly benevolent, and almighty in power, and wishes your highest good, and if you will follow the directions I give, and which I have learned from him, you will be happy. Now this substance which looks so bright here, is fire. But your body is so made, that if you touch it, it will produce keen suffering."

The new comer replies, "I cannot believe it, for I feel a strong curiosity to investigate its properties for myself, by touching it. My Creator implanted this desire with the intention doubtless, that it should be gratified; he is perfectly benevolent and wishes my enjoyment; he is almighty, and can save me from the suffering. I shall not regard this prohibition, for it seems to me needless and unreasonable." But you urge the danger of the course he proposes; you tell him that if he should step into a fire to make such an experiment, it would not only cause him intense immediate suffering, but probably would make him a sufferer all his life, and you might point to some poor cripple, who was thus rendered a useless burden to society, and to himself. But he argues the case with you. "Is it not unreasonable," he says, "that in attempting to gratify a laudable curiosity, a principle implanted by my Maker, and just for a moment's trial, that I should suffer so much, and still