reproof. The difficulties, which usually attend the administration of reproof, and its frequent want of efficacy and success, are subjects of complaint in the mouth of every thinking man. All these difficulties plainly lie in the character, either of the reprover, or the reproved. It is indispensable, that the reprover, if any hope be entertained of success, be regarded as a friend; and that he assume the lowliness, meekness, long-suffering, and forbearance, of the Gospel. Such is the character of the Christian in the eye of his fellow-Christian; and such is the disposition, with which his reproofs will be administered. They will, therefore, have all the advantage, furnished by the fact, that they are derived from the best

source.

At the same time, religion prepares the person, who is to be reproved, in the best manner to receive this office of friendship. It teaches him his own frailty; the guilt and danger of backsliding; the absolute necessity of reproof to himself, as well as to others ; the obligations, which his fellow-Christians are under to administer it; the benevolent ends, which it is designed to answer; and the peculiar friendship, employed in reproving, agreeably to the injunctions of the Gospel. Thus the Christian is by his disposition prepared to discern, that the reproofs of instruction are the way of life; and thus a reproof entereth more into a wise man, than an hundred stripes into a fool.

Nor is the Christian less fitted to derive instruction, improvement, and enjoyment, from other religious communications. By a kind of instinctive application he makes the cases, views, and feelings, of his fellow-Christians his own. From their dangers he learns the means of safety to himself. From their backslidings he derives watchfulness. From their victories he acquires courage. Their fortitude, patience, and resignation, he transplants into his own life. In their faith and hope, their comfort and joys, he exercises an Evangelical communion, which makes them all his own. In their sorrows, also, he experiences a refined and affectionate interest, springing from the very nature of Christian sympathy, and rendering him better, and lovelier, whenever it is experienced. In this manner, while on the one hand, his heart is softened and purified; he acquires on the other, the rare and difficult science of regulating the affections, and directing wisely the conduct, to which they give birth.

2. Notwithstanding this sameness of character, the views of different Christians concerning the same objects, and the emotions excited by them, are in many respects different.

It is a remarkable fact, that in the creation and providence of God, we find not two beings, or events, exactly alike. In this diversity, God undoubtedly designed to exhibit the endless diversities of beauty, and utility, existing in his own endlessly various wisdom: so that every thing might, in some respect, be a new display of his perfect character. In nothing is this variety more con

spicuous, than in rational minds. These undoubtedly differ not a little in their original structure; and vary unceasingly in their views, affections, and efforts. The very optics of the mind, although possessing the same common nature, are nevertheless so diverse from each other, as to see the same objects in lights, often widely different, and to rest on very different parts of each individual object. Let any two persons, who have been employed in contemplating the same subject, or viewing the same object, recite their respective views; and this difference will be strongly evinced. All these varieties are also predicable of the human heart. Affections, very variously modified, are continually awakened in different persons by the same events, even when they have the same common interest. The compassion, excited by a scene of distress in a company of friends or neighbours, is proved by their own expressions to have many diversities of shade and character.

All these varieties of thought, feeling, purpose, and exertion, are found, every where, in Christians, with respect to every religious subject. From this fact it has been often, but rashly, concluded, that men were so made, as necessarily to form inconsistent views of the same doctrine, or the same precept: and hence an apology has been made for error, which is intended to excuse it from criminality, and to quiet the minds of men, when chargeable with false religious opinions. This scheme attributes to God such indifference to truth, or such love to falsehood, as to have induced him to make men incapable, either from their nature, or from their circumstances, of discerning truth, and avoiding error. It is fairly presumable, that those, who hold this scheme, are not intentionally guilty of charging God thus foolishly.

But although God has not made the reception of error necessary, he has plainly formed us so as to receive truth, perhaps necessarily, certainly in a manner highly advantageous to us as social beings, in an unceasing diversity of lights. In a careful investigation of a complicated subject, it is not improbable, that of a thousand persons, thus employed, every individual would discern something not discerned by the others; and that something, true and just. Every thing in the character of man, in his understanding, affections, and habits, contributes to this diversity.

Let me illustrate this subject by a familiar, and at the same time unobjectionable, example. There are in the Scriptures, perhaps, one hundred writers, and speakers; all of whom have spoken truth only: while each has yet uttered it in his own characteristical manner. How universally various are these manners; and how much additional beauty, force, and profit, are in this way added to the truth in the mind of every reader! Luke, Paul, and John, are the most voluminous writers in the New Testament; and have communicated the greatest number of doctrines and precepts to mankind. How unlike each other are these writers in their several modes of viewing the interesting subjects, which

they communicate to mankind. Paul and John, particularly, are remarkably eloquent and sublime, as well as remarkably instructive. Yet how different is the simple, artless, gentle manner of John from the bold, ardent, abrupt manner of Paul! Both at the same time, are pre-eminently impressive, useful, and happy.

All Christians have their peculiar views of divine subjects, and their peculiar affections. All these also, when just, and true, have their own peculiar utility. In the familiar intercourse of Christians these views are continually interchanged; and these affections mutually communicated. By this interchange, the views of all become more just, more expanded, more noble. The varieties of divine excellence, the multiplied relations of divine truth, and the endless modifications of duty, are, in this way, far more extensively perceived by every one, than would otherwise be possible. The difference between the knowledge, thus imbibed, and that, which would be gained by a Christian in absolute solitude, is substantially the same with that, which exists between a savage, and a man educated in enlightened society.

Nor is this mutual communication of affections less improving. Piety, benevolence and self-government, are capable of being endlessly modified. In a solitary mind, it is impossible, in the present state of man, that they should fail of being sluggish, contracted, austere, or in some other unhappy manner defective. Even where persons of the same sect, class, or character, consort with each other only, a narrow-minded, prejudiced, bigoted, and often very censurable, spirit is diffused, cherished and confirmed. An expansive correspondence among Christians, on the contrary, enlarges the heart, exalts its feelings, and dignifies its designs. Let it be remembered, that to this immense good every Christian may contribute, whatever is his station, whatever the extent of his talents, and whatever the characteristical tenour of his affections. The greatest may learn, and amend, by the assistance of the least; the wisest, by that of the most uninformed. Thus, As iron sharpeneth iron, so every Christian sharpeneth the countenance of his friend. Prov. xxvii. 17.

3. The affections of Christians are strongly invigorated by their frequent intercourse with each other.

Social beings are formed in such a manner, as to be easily, and deeply, interested in each other's concerns; and to share in each other's hopes and fears, joys and sorrows. Naturally, and in a sense, instinctively, we love when others love, and hate when others hate; exult in their prosperity, and mingle our sighs and tears with theirs. Whenever these emotions are communicated, they are caught. Heart, in this case, beats in regular response to heart; and the bosom spontaneously heaves, and glows, and throbs, at the call of those, by whom we are surrounded. All this is continually seen in the common occurrences of life; particularly in the zeal of parties; the agitations of political assemblies; and

the distracted violence of tumultuous crowds. Much more delightfully is it exhibited in the more rational and affectionate meetings of friends; and far more delightfully still in the intercommunion of Christians, the best of all friends. Here, the noblest subjects engage the attention; and the most interesting of all concerns engross the heart; concerns, approved by the conscience, and ap proved by God. In their nature they are fraught with peace: in their progress they are sources of unceasing and immortal good. To every person in such an assembly, the Wisdom, which is from above, is the supreme object of pursuit; that godliness, which has the promise of the life which now is, and of that which is to come. In the pursuit of this glorious object, full of comfort, hope, and joy, the best emotions, which can be felt by the human heart, are awakened, and reciprocated. The flame, which glows in one breast, is caught, and kindled, in another. The light, which illumines one mind, sheds its lustre over all the minds, by which it is encircled. The soul, raised above itself by this happy communion, feels, that it has passed from death unto life, because it loves the brethren. On such an assembly the spirit of grace fails not to shower his balmy influence, and to awaken in the minds, of which it is composed, delightful anticipations of future glory. Peace, and hope, and joy, descending from above, scatter here their richest blessings; and with a divine enchantment raise up a transient, but beautiful, image of Heaven, on this side of the grave.

REMARKS

1. These observations teach us the invaluable blessing of being born in a Christian Land.

In such a land, all these advantages are primarily obtained. There, Christians live. There, religion is manifested in the life and conversation. There, its reality, dignity, solemnity, and loveliness, are seen by the eye, and declared to the ear. There, the words of the wise are as goads. They counsel, exhort, reprove, and alarm, with evangelical power. The minds of sinners are there awakened, in this manner, to a sense of their guilt; and urged by motives of singular import, to listen to the alarming denunciations of offended Justice, and to the delightful invitations of boundless Mercy. There, the worth of the soul, its immortal being, and its amazing destinies, are explained, and understood. There, the charms of religious example are displayed, and felt. There, of course, man is taught, allured, and compelled, to provide for his eternal welfare.

In other lands how dreadfully reversed is the scene! What a bleak and barren wilderness, what a dreary solitude, does their moral state present to the compassionate eye! Stretch the wings of your contemplation, and pass over them with a momentary, but painful survey. From climate to climate, not a house of God is presented to your eyes: not a pious family; not a religious ex

ample. Listen: No voice of prayer rises on the winds. No notes of praise are wafted to the Heavens. Look: No Sabbath smiles with peace and mercy on the desolate waste. No dews of divine grace, no showers of life-giving rain, descend on the sterile soil. The heaven over their heads is brass: the earth under their feet is iron.

2. The same observations teach us the peculiar blessing of being born in a religious Family.

In such a family religion lives and prospers, is visible and powerful, in a still more emphatical manner. It is seen always: it is seen in the most beautiful attitudes, and the fairest colours. It is seen with an influence, peculiarly persuasive and heavenly.

In their morning and evening devotions piety begins, and closes, the day; prepares the heart to go patiently, serenely, faithfully, and gratefully, through its active concerns; and the eyes to close in peace, and to enjoy the sleep of such as are beloved by God. The interval between these solemn seasons is filled up with successive acts of Justice, truth, and kindness to others, and to the happy circle where they originate; and with a watchful, assiduous, and faithful superintendence of themselves. In the blessings of their intercourse with others, all around them successively share: while their friends and neighbours are delighted, strangers are welcomed, and their enemies are not excluded. The poor and suffering not only make peculiar claims, but find those claims cheerfully admitted.

With each other, life is only a sweet interchange of lovely affections, and evangelical offices; and assumes an aspect, on which Angels would smile with complacency, and heaven descend in a shower of blessings. Every day, which passes over their heads, calls forth from them all, new displays of Evangelical love, new efforts to make each other happy. Every place furnishes them new opportunities of showing how much more blessed it is to give, than to receive. But the Sabbath, of all days, surrounds them with peculiar lustre and loveliness. Of all places, the sanctuary most unfolds their excellence, sublimes their virtues, and prepares them to meet the assembly of the first-born.

How can those who are young grow up in such a family, in the midst of such conversation, by the side of such examples, and in the sight of such excellence hourly displayed, and fail of becoming wise? The example is that of parents; the most venerable, and the most impressive, which, in this world, was ever presented before the eyes. The excellence is that of brothers and sisters; the most lovely, the most alluring, which is found below the sun. Must not the Angels of the Lord encamp round about such a family? Will not God behold them with uninterrupted and unclouded smiles? Who can be a witness of the piety, the benevolence, of such a family, and not exclaim,