Parochial and Plain Sermons

and attractive operations of Nature. When theu we walk abroad, and "meditate in the field at the eventide," how nmch has eve W herb aud flower in it to surprise and overwhehu us! For, even did we know as much about them as the wisest of men, yet there are those around us, though unseen, to whom our greatest knowledge is as ignorance; and, when we converse on subjects of:Nature scientifically, repeating the names of plants and earths, and describing their properties, we should do so religiously, as iu the hearing of the great Servants of God, with the sort of difiideuce which we always feel wheu speaking beibre the learned and wise of our own mortal race, as poor beginners in intellectual knowledge, as well as in moral attaiuments. Now I can conceive persons saying all this is fancififl; but if it appears so, it is only because we are not accustomed to such thoughts. Surely we are not told in Scripture about the Angels for nothing, but for practical purposes; nor can I conceive a use of our knowledge more practical than to make it connect the sight of this world with the thought of another.:Nor oue more consolatory; for surely it is a great comfort to reflect that, wherever we go, we have those about us, who are miuistering to all the heirs of salvation, though we see them not. Nor one more easily to be understood and felt by all men; for we know that at one time the doctrine of Angels was received even too readily. And if any one would argue hence against it as dangerous, let him recollect the great principle of our Church, that the abuse of a thing does not supersede the use of it; and let him explain, if he can, St. Paul's exhorting Timothy

ExoDus xxxi. 6. "In the hearts of ll that are wise hearted, I have ptet wisdom."

T.LUKE differed from his fellow-evangelists and ellow-disciples in having received the advantages of (what is called) a liberal education. In this respect he resembled St. Paul, who, with equal accomplishments, appears to have possessed even more learning. He is said to have been a native of Antioch, a city celebrated for the refined habits and cultivated intellect of its inhabitants; and his profession was that of a physician-or surgeon, which of itself evidences him to have.been in point of education something above the generality of men. This is confirmed by the character of his writings, which are superior in composition to any part of the New Testament, excepting some of St. 1 aul s Epistles. There are persons who doubt 'hether what are called "accomplishments," whether in literature or in the fine arts, can be consistent with deep and practical serious- hess of mind. They think that attention to these argues a lightness of mind, and, t least, takes up time which might be better employed; and, I confess, at first sight they seem to be able to say much in defence of their opinion. Yet, notwithstanding, St. Luke and St. Paul were accomplished men, and evidently took pleasure in their accomplishments. I am not speaking of human Icarnig; this also many men think inconsistent with simple uncorrupted faith. They suppose that learning must make a man proud. This is of course a great mstake; but of it I am not speaking, but of an over-jealousy of acco_plis]- ents, the elegant arts and studies, such as poetry, literary composition, painting, music, and the like; which are considered (not indeed to make a man prod, but) to make him triflig. Of this opinion, how far it is true, and how tr not trite, I am going to speak: being led to the consideration of it by the known fact, that St. Luke was a polished writer, and yet an Evangelist. Now, that the accomplishments I speak of have a lc.dccy to make us trifling and unmanly, and therefore are to be viewed by each of us with suspicion as far as regards himself, I am ready to admit, and shall presently make clear, i allow, that in matter of lct, refinement and luxury, elegance nd effeminacy, go together. Antioch, the most polished, -as the most voluptuous city of Asia. But the abse of good things is no argumerit against the things themselves; mental cultivation may be a divine gift, though it is abused. All God's gifts are perverted by man; health, strenh, intellectual II] B B power, are all turned by sinners to bad purposes, yet they are not evil in themselves: therefore an aequainta.nee with the elegant arts may be a gift and a good, and intended to be an instrumeut of God's glory, though numbers who have it are rendered thereby indolent, luxurious, and feeble-minded. Bu the accoun of le building of the Tabernacle in the wilderness, fl'om which the text is taken, is decisive on this point. It is too hmg to read to you, but a few verses will remind you of the nature of it. "Thou shal slmak unto all t, ha are wise hearted, whom I have filled with the spirit of wisdom,,aron's garments t.o consecrate minister unto me in the priest's called by name Bezaleel... and that they may make hitn, that he may office." "See I have have filled him with the Spirit of God, in wisdom and in understanding, ant in knowledge, and in all nmnner of workmanship, to devise emming works, to work in gold, and in silver, aud in brass, and in cutting of stones, to set them, and in carviug of timber, to work all manner of vorkmanship." "Take ye fl'om among you an offering unto the Lord; whosoever is of a willing heart let him bring it, an offe, ring of the Lord, gold, and silver, and brass, and blue, au,1 purple, and scarlet and fine liuen, and goats' hair, and rams' skins dyed red, and badgers' skins, and shittim wood, and oil for the light, and spices for anointing oil, and for the sweet incense, and onyx stones, and stones to be set for the ephod, and for the breast-plate. And every wise hearted among you shall come and make all that the Lord hath commanded. "'  Exod. xxviii. 3; xxxi. 2—5; xxxv. 5—10.

amusing ourselves with these works of f, ction, we come at lcngfla to feel the excitenent without the slightest thought or tendency to act upon it; and, since it is very difficult to begin any duty withoit some emotion or other (that is, to begin on mere principles of dry reasoning), t grave quest.ion arises, how, after destroying the connexion between feeling and acting, how shall we get **urselves to act when circumstances make it our duty to do so? For instance, we will say we have read again and again, of the heroisln of facing danger, and we have.glowed with tile thought of its nobleness. We/Lave felt how great it is to bear pain, and submit to indignities, rather fl,an vound our conscience; and all this, again and again, whe we had no opportunity of carrying our good feelings into practice. Now, suppose at length we actually come into trial, and let us say, our feelings become roused, as often before, at the thought of boldly resisting temptations to cowardice, shall we therefore do our duty, quitting ourselves like men? rather, we are likely to talk loudly, and then run from the danger. \Vhy?—rather let us ask, wily ,ot? wha.t is to keep us from yielding? Because we fccl aright? nay, we have agah and again felt aright, and thought aright., without accustoming ourselves to act aright, and, though there was an original connexion in our minds between feeling and acting, there is none now; the wires within us, as they may be called, are loosened and powerless. And what is here instanced of fortitude, is true in all cases of duty. The refinement which literature gives, is that of thinking, feeling, knowing and speaking, right, not of acting right; and thus, while it nakes the manners amiable, and the conversation decorous and a'eeable, it has no tendency to nake the eouduet, the practice of the man virtuous. Observe, I have supposed the works of fiction I speak of to inculcate right sentiments; though such works (play-books for example) are often vicious and immoral. But even at best, supposing flmm well principled, still after all, at best, they are, ] say, dangerous, iu themselves;—that is, if we allow refinement to stand in the place of hardy, rough-hauded obedience. It follows, that I am much opposed to certain rcliyims novels, which some persons think so useful: that they somet.imes do good, I am far fl'om denying;but they do more harm than good. They do harm on the whole; they lead men to cultivate the religious affectious separate from religious practice. And here I might speak of that entire religious system (miscalled religious) which nmkes Christian faith consist, not in the honest and plain practice of what is right, but in the luxury of excited religious feeliug, in a mere meditating on our Blessed Lord, and dwelling as in a reverie on what He has done for us;—for such indolent contemplation will no more sanctify a man in fact, than reading a poem or listening to a chant or psalm-tune. The case is the same with the arts last alluded to, poetry and music. These are especially likely to make us uumanly, if we are not on our gaard, as exciting emotions without insuring correspondent practice, and so destroying the connexion, between feeling and acting; tbr I here mean by unmanliness the inability to do with ourselves what we wish,the saying fine things and yet lying slothfully on our couch, as if we could not get up, though we ever so much wished it. And here I must notice somethilg besides in elegant accomplishments, which goes to make us over-refined and fastidious, and falsely delicate. In books, everything is made beautiful in its way. Pictures are drawn of coml)h'tc virtue; little is said about failures, and little or nothilg of the drudgery of ordhary, every-day obedience, which is neither poetical nor interesting. True fitith teaches us to do numberless disagreeable things for Christ's sake, to betr petty annoyances, which we find written down i no book. In most books Christian conduct is made grand, elevated, and splendid; so that any one, who only knows of true religion from books, and not from actual endeavours to be religious, is sure to be offended at religion when he actually comes upon it, from the roughness and humbleness of his duties, and his necessary deficiencies in doing them. It is bcautithl in a picture to wash the disciples' feet; but the sands of the real desert have no ]ustre in them to conlpensate for the servile nature of the occupatio.n. And flu'ther still, it nust be observed, that the art of composing, which is a chief accomplishment, has in itself a tendency to make us artificial and insincere. For to be ever attending to the fitness and propriety of our words, is (or at least there is the risk of its being) a kind of acting; and knoving what can be said on both sides of a subject, is a main step towa.rds thinking the one side as good as the other. Hence men in ancient times, who cultivated polite literature, went by the name of " Sophists;" that is, nen who wrote elegantly, and never allow ourselves to read works of fiction or poetry, or to interest ourselves in the fine arts for the mere sake of file things themselves: but keep in mind all along that we are Christians and accountable beings, who have fixed principles of right and wrong, by which all things must be tried, and have religious habits to be matured withiu them, towards which all things are to be made subservient. Nothing is more common among accomplished people than the habit of reading books so entirely for reading's sake, as to praise and blame the actions and persons described iu a random way, according to their iancy, not considering whether they are really good or bad according to the standard of moral truth. I would not be austere; but when this is done habitually, surely it is dangerous. Such oo is the abuse of poetical talent, that sacred gift. Nothing is more common than to fall into the practice of uttering fine sentiments, particularly in letter writing, as a matter of course, or a kind of elegant display.:Nothing more common in singing than to use w,,rds which have a light meaning, or a bad one. All these things are hurtful to seriousness of character. It is for this reason (to put aside others) that tile profession of stage-players, and again of orators, is a dangerous one. They learn to say good things, and to excite in themselves vehement feelings, about nothing at all. If we are in earnest, we shall let nothing lightly pass by which may do us good, nor shall we dare to trifle with such sacred subjects as morality and religious duty. We shall apply all we read to ourselves; and this ahnost without intending to do so, from the mere sincerity and honesty of our desire to please God. We

Of all such as abuse the decencies and elegancies of moral truth into a means of luxurious enjoyment, what wottld a prophet of God say? Hear the words of the holy Ezekiel, that stern rough man of tlod, a true Saint iu the midst of a self-indulgent, high-professing people: "Thou son of man, the children of thy people still are talking against thee by the walls and in the doors of the houses, and speak one to another, every one to his lm)ther, saying, Come, [ pray you, and hear what is the word that cometh forth from the Lord. And they come unto thee as the people eometh, m,d they sit before thee as My people, and they hear thy words, but they will not do them- for with their mouth they show much love, bnt their heart goeth after their covetousness. And, lo, thou art nnto them as a very lovely song of one that hath a pleasant voice, and can play well on an instrument- for they hear thy words, but they do them not." a Or, consider St. Paul's words; which arc still more impressive, 1,eeause he as himself a man of learning and accomplishments, and took pleasure, in due place, in the pursuits to which these give rise" " l'reach the word; be instant h season, out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort, with all long-suffering and doctrine. For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears. And they shall turn away their ears from the Truth, and shall be turned unto thbles." "Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong." "  Ezek. xxxiii. 30—32. "- 2 Tim. iv. _0—4. 1 ('or. xvi. 13.