A Memorial of Mrs. Margaret Breckinridge

ement-overwhelming and bewildering the soul, and with strange horror, destroying for a time, the power to feel. "Deep calleth unto deep-all thy waves, an

is: He resolves the death of our friends into his own gracious sovereignty, when he calls it, "the coming of the Son of Man." Death loses its terror when it becomes his act of grace. "The death of his saints is precious in his sight," and is always ordered with a

rs, and supports, send their deep sympathies even into the grave. Who of us that is a husband, or a parent, that does not feel the horror of the separation aggravated by the spectacle of our helpless kindred struggling alone in mortal

verge of heaven. The Lord of life is there. Underneath are the everlasting arms; and through all the terrors of the grave; and above all the tumult of that last hour, the Shepherd's voice is heard

it gives a new nature to death, that Jesus died! For while the merit of his death takes the sting from ours, his presence in the

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is thought ought to soften every pang. If we really love them, and if our sacrifices for them while they were here below, were the fruit of our love, then we have only to remember that this is one prolonged, supreme sacrifice for their sakes.-This reflection if properly pursued, would often turn our mourning into gladness.[9] And t

life were a far lighter offering. But for that reason we honour him the more. It is our Isaac that God calls for; and it is then indeed we honour God when we can offer like Abraham. We shall receive the o

erstitious emotions are carefully to be quelled, we are permitted to draw very nigh to them. We may cherish their image in our memories and hearts; we still belong to the same great communion-and all are members of that body of which Jesus is the head. "

ed of time! It may not be an inappropriate close to these meditations, to insert the family hymn, with which the remna

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nal accomplishments. But we fear to indulge our feelings. Nor is it needful. For it was her Christian character mainly which we designed to illustrate. Her love for the Redeemer, and her sacrifices for his sake, were the jewels which adorned her on earth, and which lose not their lustre in death. It was the glory of all those qualities which s

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and neither repine, nor rebel, for your affliction comes not from the dust, but from me, your rightful Sovereign; to whom you owe absolute subjection." If viewed in the sense last mentioned, then it will be as though God, feeling compassion towards his afflicted saints, puts them in mind of the sure refuge which they had in him; as if he had

ainst the shafts of adversity. In regard to this matter, the rich and the poor stand very much upon a level. "Man is born unto trouble as the sparks fly upward." Hence, this life has justly been denominated, "the vale of tears." Uninterrupted bliss cannot be found beneath the skies. The righteous are not exempt, but many are their afflictions. Besides a participation in the common lot of humanity, they have troubles peculiar

in preparing ourselves to endure trials with fortitude, and cheerfully to acquiesce in those painful events, which we cannot avoid. Some persons, when overtaken by severe strokes of adversity, are, like the bullock unaccustomed to the yoke, restive and rebellious; they resist the hand which presses them, and struggle to throw off the yoke. Such a course is altogether unwise, and must be unsuccessful. "Wo to him that striveth with his Maker. Let the potsherds strive with the potsherds of the earth," but let not a feeble, sinful worm rise up in rebellio

of adversity. Much practical progress never can be made in this unnatural system. Whatever men may profess or pretend, nature will assert her claims, and if her feelings may be for a season suspended, she will again resume her sway; and indeed the equanimity

they are prostrated in the dust; not in humility, but in despondency; their sorrow not only casts them down, but overwhelms them. They find themselves sinking in deep waters, where there is no standing. Such persons not only put away

deeply afflicted. This only can sustain the mind, ready to sink into despair. This furnishes the only medicine which heals the anguish of the broken heart; the only balm which relieves the wounds made in the spirit by painful bereavements. Here the superlative value of true religion is realized; and this principle of heavenly origin is found to pos

n this firm foundation, will ever be found precarious, and commonly evanescent. Buoyant hope and cheerful resignation must have the solid pillar of truth on which to repose. It will theref

they did not pursue a different course, or make use of different means from what they did; although with the knowledge possessed, they could not have done better. Under the same short-sighted views, they are prone to censure others who have had an innocent instrumentality in bringing about the events by which they are distressed. All this arises from the want of faith in Divine Providence; and too much of this unbelief cleaves to the pious themselves, and greatly aggravates their calamities. But when their faith in the being and providence of God is strong, they see his hand in every thing good and evil, which occurs; they behold him operating through all nature, and giving efficacy to all second causes; and are as fully persuaded that he directs the fall of a sparrow,

flictive, and even profoundly mysterious; yet we should think, it is God that hath done it. These are his footsteps. This is the operation of his hand. He it is, "who formeth the light and createth the darkness; that maketh peace, and createth evil." The more, in such circumstances, we look beyond all creatures, and second cause

of the Lord Jesus Christ. While we contemplate our own sins and imperfections only, we can entertain no other feeling, than a fearful looking for of wrath; but when with the spirit of adoption we can look up to our heavenly Father's reconciled face, we need not be alarmed nor cast down, under the heaviest afflictions which befall us. We know that he doth not willingly afflict his beloved children, but out of love chastises them for their greater good, that they may become in a higher degree, partakers of his holiness. They are assured, therefore, that all these painful events shall be so overruled, as to work for their good. And the Holy Scriptures clearly teach, that although these chastisements are, for the present, not joyous, but grievous, yet, hereafter, they will produce in them who are exercised thereby, the peaceable fruits of righteousness. They eminently conduce to wean the affections fro

partakers of Christ's sufferings, that when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy." Again: "That the trial of your faith being

and repeated mention of the same thing. "If children, then heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ, if so be that we suffer with him, that we may also be glorified together." He speaks of this communion with Christ in suffering, as a characteristic of discipleship, and as a high privilege, "Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus."-"For unto you it is given in the behalf of Christ, not on

ssion to the will of our heavenly Father, under the heaviest pressure of his hand. And as we all are conscious that there is yet much impurity and dross cleaving to our nature, we should rejoice in being subjected to a process, though it be a fiery one, by which we might be more and more purified from sin. Indeed, we cannot do without this salutary discipline: our salvation,

dispose of you and yours according to his own sovereign will. He is wise, and knows how to order every thing for the best. He is powerful, and can bring light out of darkness, and good out of evil. He is faithful, and will certainly fulfil all his gracious promises.

ns which ought to moderate our grief; and to teach us to be quietly submissive to the hand of the Almighty. It is a blessed state, when the feelings of the man are absorbed in the nobler feelings of the Ch

s. The friends and comforts which, late in life, we lose, we cannot hope to have made up to us. And, sometimes, the parents of a numerous offspring are preserved so long, that they survive all, or most of their children; and they stand, like aged trees, which, by successive storms, have been stripped of their foliage and branches. But, although bereaved parents cannot draw much consolation, under their afflictions, from this world; yet the rich consolations of the Gospel are accessible to them, and peculiarly appropriate to their condition. The pious do not know how to appreciate t

d whom our earliest and tenderest affections were entwined. The thought of never again, in this world, seeing a face, from which always the most benignant affections beamed upon us, cannot but leave a melancholy and heart-sinking impression. Who can adequately describe the anguish produced by the sudden severance of hearts, long cemented in the bands of the tenderest affection! But, though nature will be obeyed, and the floods of sorrow cannot be altogether restrained, yet there is a C

en, can be expected in perfection from nothing but that affection, which the Creator has deeply implanted in the hearts of mothers. To those who have had long experience in the world, there are few ideas more affecting than that of a motherless child. But orphaned, as these dear little ones are, by the loss of one parent, they are, I may say, on this account, more peculiarly the care of a covenant God, whose promise extends not only to believers, but to their seed,

t their warmest, tenderest sympathies fall in with the tide of overwhelming grief, which rejects all consolation. "Weep with them that weep." There is another thing which we can do, and that far more important, we can pray for our afflicted and bereaved brother. In such circumstances, prayer is almost our only refuge; for all our help must come from God. While the voice of man is powerless to afford relief, there is ONE who

ormed that God was about to bring such judgments on his house, as would cause the ears of every

f and worshipped God, saying-"The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of

esigns, when he permits sore afflictions to come upon them; "If thou hadst been here," said both the weeping sisters, "my brother had not died." Their regret was keen, and unmitigated by any known circumstance; but in one short hour, they were, no doubt, glad that their Lord was not there-they rejoiced that their beloved brother had died; because the glory of God and the power of the Redeemer had now been manifested. Indeed, a gracious visit from Jesus will turn our bitterest sor

dhood, and enjoyed the affectionate regards of this community in no common degree, as is manifest by the general and tender sympathy felt on this occasion. By her sweet simplicity, engaging vivacity, affectionate temper, and affable manners, o

of dissolution; but in regard to what comes after death, she had no f

tion which could be received under such sore bereavements. This consolation of our benignant Father has not been withheld in the present instance. Mourning friends are permitted to rejoice in the mi

nceforth; yea, saith the spirit, that they may rest

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ng to you, for time and eternity, is a bereavement of which, even now, I know not how to speak without emotions too strong for utterance. While this precious Parent lived, she seemed to interpose between your beloved grandmother and myself, and any immediate responsibility in regard to your education; but now that she is removed, we seem to be brought, in the mysterious and mournful Providence of God, to stand in some measure in her place, and to perform some

dearing relations to you, and in these solemn circumstances, allow me to pour out the fulness of a heart most earnestly engaged for your welfare, and desiring more ardently than I am able to express, to see you walking in truth and happiness, and embalming by your c

y of following many young people from the cradle to the grave. I have seen the training, the subsequent course, and the end of thousands. Need I say, that the lessons derived from such experience are not unworthy of your regard? O, if you could start in your career with that practical knowledge of the vanity, the snares, and the sufferings of the world, which has come to me through

, I delight to see you happy; and desire, by all the means in my power to promote your true enjoyment and honour. But you must allow me now, in my old age, when I have seen so much of the illusions of the world, and so many examples of the destruction of those who yielded to them, to counsel you, not in the style of youthful flattery, but in the language of "truth and soberness." You will find nothing in these

said now. I may have no other opportunity. Besides, one of the great truths which I wish to impress upon your minds is, that you are, even at your present age, sowing the all important seeds of a future harvest of good or evil. You will not find a single habit or attainment recommen

who, while he writes, looks up to "Him who has the residue of the Spirit," that what is rightly said, may be impre

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ims and ways are hostile to your best interests; that you are yourselves, by nature, miserable sinners, standing in need of pardoning mercy, and sanctifying grace; and that you are every day exposed to snares and perils, from the joint influence of a depraved nature and a corrupt world;-until you have learned, in some good measure, to recognise these facts; to dwell upon them daily and hourly; and to receive the lessons which they are adapted to teach; you are not prepared even to begin life. You are not prepared to meet or encounter the most common scenes, much less the more formidable dangers which are likely to beset your path every day that you live. But the moment you are brought to admit these humbling, momentous truths; to feel their reality; and to consider and

nd practices forbidden by his law, and unfriendly to our best interest. Remember, too, that, so far from being able to trust your own hearts to resist the temptations around you, and to guide you aright, they are all naturally inclined to that which is evil, and disposed to take side with the vanities and corruptions of the

g down pride and vanity; to mortify our evil propensities; "to keep under the body;" to "rule our own spirits;" and, in general, to gain the victory over ourselves. All these expressions imply that the course of tr

the language of that incomparable Catechism, with which you have been familiar from lisping infancy-and every doctrine of which, as I believe, is drawn from the Bible-"All manki

ed from it by the power and grace of the Saviour. All the posterity of Adam are by nature, "dead in trespasses and sins," having no resources within themselves for regaining the favour and image of God. "The

rucifying the flesh with its affections and lusts; in resisting the fashions and allurements which reign around you; and taking refuge in that Saviour, who came to seek and to save that which was lost." Such are the temptations and perils with which you are constantly and every where surrounded; and such your only refuge. And, what greatly adds to your danger is, that if the representation which I have given be correct, your own hearts are naturally disposed to take th

confidence in civilities never meant to be accepted; and to expect much from protestations of kindness, and assurances of friendship-all dictated by the merest selfishness, and never intended to be fulfilled. Rely on it, dear children, you live in a cold, selfish, heartless world. Its civilities are hollow; its promises are deceitful; its flatteries are insidious; its most splendid attractions are delusive. Expect little from the warmest professions, and be very backward to avail yourselves of the most fervent proffers of friendship. I am far, indeed, from recommending a misanthropic suspicion of every body. Your parents and grandparents ought to be the last persons in the world to indulge or

individuals, then we need deliverance. We need salvation.

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eath in any form, and by the interposition of some benevolent and active friend, is rescued, we say he is saved. Now in a similar sense is the term used in the case before us. The salvation of man implies that he is, by nature not only in danger, but in a lost and perishing condition. Accordingly I told you, my dear children, in the preceding letter, that our whole race, and you among the rest, are, by nature in a state of guilt, depravity, and misery; that we are fallen creatures; under condemnation; exposed to the wrath and curse of God;

erious and solemn attention. Believe me, "it is not a vain thing for you, it is even your life." Unless you are, b

the favour and image of God-and bringing us to the everlasting enjoyment of his presence in heaven. This is salvation. Now I wish to show you how this great an

all totally lost our original righteousness; so that there is now, by nature, "none righteous, no not one." In short, we have all become guilty and polluted before God, and incapable of regaining his image or his favour by any merit or doings of our own. How, then are we to be delivered from these deplorable circumstances? How shall we escape that perdition which is the just reward of sin? "How can we escape the damnation of hell?" How can any be saved? God cannot set aside his own law, or permit his authority and majesty, as a righteous Governor, t

nature; to take the place of the guilty and the perishing; and to become the victim of Divine justice in their stead. His language, in the eternal counsel of peace, was, "Let me suffer instead of the guilty. Let me die to save them. Deliver them from going down to the pit; I will be their ransom." This wonderful, this unparalleled offer was accepted. The Father was well pleased for the righteousness sake of his Son. He accepted it as the price of our pardon; as that on account of which all who repent and believe

rofess to rely entirely on those merits, represent the whole subject in a very different light. They suppose that in consideration of the sufferings and death of our blessed Saviour, the old, original law of God, requiring perfect obedience, is repealed, and a mitigated law now prescribed as the rule of our obedience. So that now, under the Christian dispensation, a perfect obedience is not even required, but only an imperfect one, accommodated to our fallen condition and our many infirmities. But still, they insist, that this

as our substitute and surety. It represents the holy law of God as remaining in all its original strictness without repeal or mitigation; and as falling with the whole weight of its penalty on all the impenitently guilty. But it declares that penalty to be removed from those who repent and believe the Gospel, not on account of any worthiness in themselves, as the merito

the ground of our justification; but all these expressions imply, that there is an inseparable connexion, in the economy of grace, between believing in Christ, and being justified by him, or having his righteousness imputed to us. Happy, thrice happy they, who can thus call the Saviour theirs, and who have thus "received the atonement!" Though unworthy in themselves, they are graciously pronounced righteous by their heavenly Judge, on account of what the Mediator has done. Their sins, though many, are, for his sake, forgiven them.

tion of which I am speaking. We need as much to be delivered from the love of sin as from its condemnation. And for both, the plan of mercy held forth in the Gospel of Christ, makes equal and effectual provision. "Whom he justifies, them he also sanctifies; and whom he sanctifies, them he also glorifies." By the power of the Holy Spirit, the dominion of sin is broken in the hearts of all who are brought under the powe

principles and provisions makes our salvation perfectly gratuitous, and wholly excludes all human merit. After the plan was formed and executed, and the knowledge of it imparted to us, no one would ever accept of it, did not the same grace which formed it, incline the sinner

Whosoever cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out." It calls upon you to renounce all confidence in yourselves, and to receive and rest on Christ alone for salvation as he is freely offered in the Gospel; to receive him as the Lord your righteousness, and the Lord your strength, and rejoice in him as your only hope. To this end, it is indispensable that you be convinced of sin; that you experience a deep and cordial sense of your own sinfulness and unworthiness; that you despair of saving yourselves; that you fall at the footstool of sovereign grace, feeling that you deserve to die, and that you can have no hope but in the atoning blood, and sanctifying Spirit of the Redeemer. It is your duty and your privilege to

oves you, and who has no stronger desire concerning you than to see you walking in the Spirit, and enjoying the consolation of the Gospel: or rather listen to the voice of that blessed Saviour himself wh

outh. But before his plan was half accomplished, he suddenly fell sick; was seized with delirium; and died without hope. But there are facts, dear children, which ought to come nearer home. Can you forget your beloved brother and sisters, who, in the very threshold of their existence, were cut down, and laid in the grave? And what security have you that you will live to see another year? But even if you are permitted to live until you reach adult age, or until you are old and grey-headed, what reason have you to hope, if you go on hardening yourselves against the Gospel until that time, that you will then have grace given you to "consider your ways

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ally, if you could obtain it, take a light in your hands. You would also, if possible, engage a guide, strong and faithful, well acquainted with the road, and qualified to condu

resents the only complete and perfect map of the road which you are travelling. It was given us to be "a light to our feet, and a lamp to our path." It exhibits, with unerring fidelity, every enemy, every snare, every danger which beset your path. It gives all the information, all the warning, all the caution, and all the encouragement which you need. It tells you, more perfectly than any other book, all that you have to fear, and all that you have to hope for. There is not a form of

your precious Mother, now gone to the God who gave this Book, recommended it to your attention; how assiduously she put it into your hands; how often she constrained you to commit portions of it to memory; and how frequently, on Sabbath evenings, she gathered you round her to recite those portions in her hearing, and to receive her instructions and counsels in regard to them. Can you ever forget these scenes, and the solemn, tender lessons which yo

used from the task of perusing its chapters? Alas! dear children, this is one of the many proofs that your nature, as I before stated, is depraved; and that you need the renewing and sanctifying power of the Holy Spirit, before you can understand and relish a book given by his inspiration. Every feeling of reluctance to the study of this Book which you experience, ought to fill you with alarm, and to constrain you to cry mightily to God that he would open your eyes and your hearts, and give you that taste for the best of all books, without which you cannot be prepared for the joys of his presence. Consider, I beseech you, that, as yo

otten from them all they contain-you have done with them. But with the perusal of the Bible you can never have done. The oftener you go over it, if you feel as you ought, the richer and more delightful will it appear. You can ne

r of jest! The Lord will not hold them guiltless who thus, practically, "take his name in vain." The Mohammedans manifest much more reverence for their Koran, than many Christians for the Bible. They never allow themselves to touch it without washing their hands. They handle it with the most pointed respect, never holding it lower than their girdles. Every copy of it commonly contains an inscription or label on the cover, in these words-"Let

ts rich and important meaning; with humility, feeling your need of the instruction and grace which it contains; with prayer, imploring the guidance of the Holy Spirit, that he may open your hearts to receive the engrafted word which is ab

ce and the sum of all good. Happy, thrice happy will those children and young people be, who early learn to go to the Bible for all their sentiments, principles, and rules of action; who learn daily to go to that precious Book to direct them in their pursuits, to comfort them in their sorrows, to guide them in their perplexities, and to animate them in their labours whatever they may be! Such have the best pledge of temporal enjoyment, and of eternal blessedness. When, therefore, those who love you, and would in some measure take the place of your dear departed Mother, daily put this precious Book of God into your hands, and urge you to read and commit to memory a portio

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y. It is to be addressed to God alone; for prayer addressed to any created being, is an act of treason to our rightful Sovereign. It is to be "for things agreeable to the divine will;" or else it is unauthorized and presumptuous. It is always to be presented in the name of Christ; for there is no other name under heaven given among men whereby we can draw near to a holy God with acceptance, but the name of Jesus Christ. It mu

s, it is evident that we ought to supplicate them with importunity and perseverance. If we are sinners, unworthy of the divine favour, we ought to humble ourselves at his footstool, and make confession of our sins with penitence and obedience. If he has revealed a plan of mercy and grace to us, of which he invites and commands us to avail ourselves, then

ts unto your children, how much more shall your Father in heaven give his Holy Spirit to them that ask him? All things whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive. The effectual, fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much. When thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret, and thy Father which seeth in secret, shall reward thee ope

he need to be informed of our wants? Can we, by importunity, alter his purposes? Where is, then, the advantage of asking for what we need? What profit shall we have if we pray unto him?" If you should ever be tempted to ask such a question, I would answer-"Much every way." God has connected our asking for blessings with receiving them. He has promised to hear and answer prayer. He has condescended to say, that he will regard with all the tenderness of a parent's heart, the cries of his children. He has said in his word,

own to her all your desires! How much greater the privilege to be allowed every hour free access to your Father in heaven, with all your anxieties a

d in the evening, before drowsiness overtakes you, retire again, to praise him for the mercies of the day, and to ask for his guardianship during the night watches. But are these the only subjects of prayer? Far from it. They are numerous as the moments you live, and various as the objects which you are called to contemplate. Pray in the morning, that God would keep you from all evil in body or soul, through the day; that he would create in you a clean heart, and renew within you a right spirit; that he would guard your speech and behaviour at all times, and in every situation; that he would enable you to mortify and subdue every sinful affection, and to overcome every improper habit; tha

, who are daily praying for you, and who are falling more and more under the infirmities of age; for one another, that you may be guided and blessed amidst all the temptations and dangers of youth; for your teachers; for your school-mates; for the poor children around you, who have none of the advantages of instruction and restraint which you enjoy; for your friends, and neighbo

desires to God in any and every situation; when walking by the way; when surrounded with company; when met by any call of duty, or by any circumstance of a doubtful aspect, or perplexing character-be in the habit of silently but devoutly looking up to God for wisdom and strength to perform every duty. This kind of intercourse with G

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all argument; and, although the moral aspects of education are the most vitally important, yet as no one can be a moral agent without some degree of intellect; so it may be s

the one hand, were its exercise ever so abundant, if left without aliment, it would speedily sink into weakness and death; and, on the other, if its aliment be ever so plentiful and rich, yet if it be left wholly without exercise, it will soon become a mass of disease and corruption. Precisely so is it in the cultivation of the mind. Exercise and aliment are equally indispensable, and must go t

be laid on different pursuits. If you would be trained up merely to be splendid butterflies, to shine and to please the superficial and the empty, for a day, and, having done this, to die like senseless insects; why, then, a corresponding plan of culture must be adopted. But, if you wish to

adopt, cannot possibly be mistaken by a mind of the least reflection. If you are to feel and act as moral accountable agents, and to consider human life as a serious, momentous thing; then, doubtless, you will feel that you are bound, first of all, and above all, to ex

gy. These are all proper for both sexes; and the more you gain of all of them, the better fitted will you be both for enjoying life, and for fulfilling its various and momentous duties. I grant, indeed, my dear grandson, that with regard to what is denominated Classic literature, and Mathematics, I wish you to go more thoroughly to work, than would be desirable, or perhaps proper, for your sisters. But I hope that neither of these will be entirely neglected by them

ch I hope you will take enlightened advice, as a number of the most attractive and popular writers in this department, are unfit to be perused without much reserve and caution. To these, of course, ought to be added, those great writers, both in prose and poetry, which deserve to be ranked as English Classics; and, with which, I feel confident, you will seize the earliest opportunity of becoming acquainted. I refer to such writers as Milton, Shakspeare, Dryden, Addison, Steele, Pope, Thompson, Gray, Young, Goldsmith, Johnson, Cowper, Beat

the act of dancing itself criminal, but because we considered it as inseparably and almost necessarily connected with the whole system of balls, dancing assemblies, midnight parties, &c., all of which we deemed criminal, and in a great variety of ways, hostile to the principles and the claims of true religion. We do, indeed, find dancing spoken of in the Old Testament Scripture

n wisely employed, may be connected with innocent pleasure, and sometimes with benefit. But I should deeply regret to find them aiming at that exquisite skill in instrumental music, which cannot be attained without great expense, much loss of time, and that intense and long continued attention which cannot fail to engross the mind and stand in the way of more worthy objects of pursuit, if it do not wholly exclude them. This is so unworthy of a rational accountable creature, that I would infinitely rather my dear grandchildren should know nothing of music, than that they should carry their zeal for it, and their devotion to i

s a question of exceeding great importance. When I was a youth it was far less interesting and momentous, as a practical matter, than it has now become. Three quarters of a century, and more especially a century ago, the number of this class of writings was so small, and their popular circulation so inconsiderable, that

course, to condemn every thing of the kind as such, and however constructed or employed, would be to pronounce an unjust judgment. Hence we find examples of this mode of instruction in the holy Scriptures; and on the same principle, some of the wisest

dinate and injurious proportion in the current literature of the day; and, Secondly, in constructing them upon a plan ada

occupied but a small share of public attention. The chief time and attention of the reading portion of the community were mainly devoted to works of substantial value, fitted to strengthen, enlarge, and enrich the mind. But, within the last twenty or thirty years, the number of novels has increased so rapidly; they have become so prominent and alluring a part of the current literature of the day; and by their stimulating and inexhaustible variety, have so drawn away the minds of the aged as well as the young from solid reading, that they have formed the principal reading of a large portion of th

be apprehended. But no one can be thus certain of either. The general stimulus of fictitious narrative is morbid and disorderly. It excites the mind, but cannot fill or enrich it. The probability is, that he who allows himself to enter on this course, will be led on, like the miserable tippler, from one stage of indulgence to another, u

us time; and, what is worse, thus to pervert his mind, and disqualify himself for sober employments! The celebrated Dr. Goldsmith, in writing to his brother, respecting the education of his son, expresses himself in the following strong terms, which are the more remarkable, as he himself had written a novel:-"Above all things, never let your son touch a romance or novel. These paint beauty in colours more charming than nature, and describe happiness that man never tastes. How delusive, how destructive are those pictures of consummate bliss! They teach the youthful mind to sigh after beauty and happiness which never existed; to despise the little good which fortune has mixed in our cup, by expecting more than she ever gave; and, in general, take the word of a man who

ore than the man who is constantly exposed to the temptation of stimulating drinks can be sure of escaping the danger. Rely upon it, the more confident you are of your own wisdom and

nd triumphant. Folly and crime have palliative and even commendatory names bestowed upon them. The omnipotence of love over all obligations and all duties, is continually maintained; and the extravagance of sinful passion represented as the effect of amiable sensibility. Surely these representations can have no ot

iter arrays himself against the patriotism and the piety of some of the best men that ever adorned the history of his country; that he exhibits orthodoxy and zeal under the guise of enthusiasm and fanaticism; that he strives to cover with dishonour, men "of whom the world was not worthy;" and to elevate and canonize

les which he holds, and the force of whose eloquence is employed to recommend the most unreasonable and mischievous dogmas. When this hero commits a crime, and when, by this crime, according to the fixed laws of the divine government, he is involved in serious difficulty, if not lasting and fatal misery, the fashionable novelist endeavours to throw the blame on the religious and moral institutions of society, as narrow, illiberal, and unjust. When a splendid but corrupt woman, has forsaken the paths of virtue, and when she suffers in her reputation and her comfort

betrayed into opinions, and prepared for practices which they would once have regarded with abhorrence, and which ultimately led them into error, crime, and ruin. Since, then, there are so many novels of this insidious and baneful character; and since it is by no means easy for the young and inexperienced to distinguish between the innocent and the vile, you will not wonder that I advise, nay, entreat you to avoid the reading of novels altogether; never to allow yourselves to take a volume of this kind into your

adapted to do good, and may have been actually useful. But this is not the question. The question is, whether, as a system, it is better to instruct in religion through the medium of fictitious narrative, and by means of thrilling incidents, or by plain, sober, didactic, and exhortatory address. In general, I cannot help deciding in favour of the latter. The reason why the l

the advocates of error. Socinianism is now strenuously inculcated through the medium of fictitious narrative. Cold Pelagianism on the one hand, and Antinomianism on the other, have been presented in the same manner. Amidst these alternate pleadings of orthodoxy and heresy, how shall the youthful learner discrimin

e old and sober mode of proceeding in any thing has become unpopular and intolerable. Our children can scarcely be prevailed upon to read any thing unless it comes in the shape of a striking story. If any one wishes a pious tract to be read, he must construct it in the form of a thrilling fictitio

ture, and to the acquirement of the most valuable knowledge. How often have I met with young people, of both sexes, who could talk fluently, and with apparent intelligence, of the volumes of Miss Burney, Mrs. Radcliffe, Madame De Stael, Miss Edgeworth, and Scott, and Cooper, and Bulwer, and even of the depraved and infamous Byron;-but, who were struc

th the knowledge of facts, principles, and sentiments of the enriching and elevating kind. Let your first and most intimate acquaintance be with those authors whose works will tend to fit you for answering the great purpose for which you were sent into the

sson, until you have completely mastered that in which you may be engaged. Be not contented with merely enabling yourselves to recite a lesson with plausible fluency. Be sure that you thoroughly comprehend, not only its obvious meaning, but also its elementary principles. Despise the indolence of those, who, in learning languages, are constantly using the miserable crutches of translations, instead of walking with the use of their own

d miss a thousand interesting objects of attention which the use of his own feet would have brought to his view. After a thousand such boasted expeditions, he might live and die the same feeble, nervous dyspeptic, that he was when he set out. Whereas, he who resolves to climb the same mountain by his own efforts; who addresses himself to the task with patient persevering labour; who takes step after step, slowly, but wisely and firmly; may not gain the ascent quite as speedily as his weaker contemporary; but he will gain it much more to hi

." It is a real blessing, if we did but know it, to have labour connected with all our attainments. Thus do we best answer the great

TER

THE HEART, AND

ns; but would be miserable yourselves, and a curse to society. Whether, therefore, you regard your own present enjoyment, and everlasting welfare, or the happiness of those around you, you cannot too early remember the great purpose for which you were sent into the world, and the relations which you sustain as rational, social, and immortal creatures. You cannot too early or too diligently learn to restrain your passions; to deny

hich tend to destroy your own peace, and to invade the comfort of those around you; if you have not discovered that this is the tendency of your nature, and that resisting it will call for much self-d

cellence. It does, in fact, where it bears appropriate and entire sway, include every moral feeling, affection, and habit, which can adorn and elevate human nature. And yet it is to be lamented that many who cherish the Christian hope, are not as much aware of this fact as they ought to be; and are not so careful to exhibit all the loveliness, as well as the purity of example which become them, as is desirable. And, besides, I have always found that there is a great advantage in pursuing rather more into detail the various branches of the Christian temper, tha

But if it be the law of God, not only that we should "love Him with all our heart and soul and strength and mind," but also that we should "love our neighbours as ourselves," then t

pression of the claims of your Creator and Redeemer upon you. Meditate much on the Divine glory. Cultivate a devout spirit. Study to walk with God in the exercise of faith, and love, and prayer. And endeavour to keep constantly before your minds his all seeing eye, his infinite holiness, his judgment seat, and those righteous retributions which he has in sto

duties which you owe to your beloved relatives, to your friends, to your neighbours, and to all with whom you have intercourse. To perceive the theory of these duties, is the province of the understanding; to enter into them, as a practical matter

blessing, have exerted over the heart of each of you;-the heart-as Mrs. Hannah More expresses it-that "seat of evil propensities-that little troublesome empire of the passions;"-I could sit down and weep afresh that you are never to enjoy that culture. But

relatives, in great strength; but from children to parents, or from the young to the old, it seldom rises with equal vigour. Let not this be said of you. Constantly cherish toward your beloved Father, and all your elder relatives, not merely an outward respect, and dutifulness of deportment, but a cordial and ardent affection; a sincere and lively gratitude for all those anxious cares and labours on their part for your benefit, for which you have been indebted ever since you we

h a temper and conduct. If you do not love one another, who can you expect will love you? Be careful, then, continually to cultivate a spirit of brotherly and sisterly affection toward each other. Let nothing interrupt this. When any contest arises, let the only strife be, which shall be the first to yield, rather than contend. On no account allow yourselves to employ harsh, much less violent language toward each other. And if any conte

o. The luxury of doing good is the richest luxury of which we are capable. It is the very spirit of Christ, who "went about doing good;" and the more closely we commune with him in the exercise of the same spirit, the more we secure true and rational enjoyment. Wherever you are, then, cultivate a spirit of sympathy with the afflicted, and the habit of flying spontaneously to the relief of suffering. You cannot begin too early to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to minister to the wants of the sick and dying, to relieve distress of every kind, and to "please every one for his good to edification:"-not by flattery, which is too commonly the method of pleasing adopted; but by letting it be seen that you seek, as much as in you lies, to make all around you truly happy. Never promote mirth at the expense of others. Never allow yourselves to "set others by the ears" as it is sometimes express

eak, slow to wrath." Learn "by soft answers to turn away wrath," both in yourselves and others. Be not ready to take offence, or to consider any one as "an offender for a word." Never regard an honest difference of opinion from yourself as a personal affront. Surely the indulgence of such a spirit is as unreasonable as it is unhappy. Guard with the utmost vigilance against a jealous, suspicious temper. Ill nature, peevishness, and a disposition to take every thing by an unfavourable handle, and to indulge in satire and sarcasm, are revolting in every human being, but especially in the female sex. I have never known such a temper to be indulged without diminishing

is much in social conversation, in which many people deemed respectable are apt to indulge themselves, and which I hope you will make conscience of sacredly avoiding. I mean all exaggeration in your descriptions; all high-colouring in your statements; all indulgence in fabulous narratives, even in jest, for the amusement of company. Aside from the dictates of religion in this matter, which are sacred and conclusive, there is something in these habits adapted to lower the character, and to diminish the influence of those who indulge them, with all sober-minde

m the vocabulary of Christians. Pride was "the condemnation and snare of the devil," and is in all cases a weakness and a sin. To call a proper personal dignity and self-respect by this odious name, is altogether incorrect and deceptive. To speak of a disposition to avoid a mean action as "a noble pride," is a perversion of language, as well as of moral principle. "Be clothed with humility; for God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the humble." "Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall; for when pride cometh, then cometh shame, but with the lowly is wisdom." Vanity is a passion still more childish and degrading. It exhibits a rational creature hanging on the smiles and the praise of his fellow worms for his importance and happiness. O, what infatuation for miserable sinners, who deserve nothing at the hand of God but wrath, and the overflowing of wrath, and who are dependant on his bounty for every breath, to be puffed up with high thoughts of themselves, and arrogantly to claim the incense of praise! Fly, then, from pride and vanity with the utmost vigilance. Study to be "meek and lowly in heart." "Mind not high things, but condescend to men of low estate." "In lowliness of mind esteem others better than yourselves." "Be not wise or great in your own conceits." Be not greedy of praise. Despise all the unworthy art

to indulge in this passion. But it is a base passion. Beware of it. How fiend-like, to sicken and repine at excellence! How base, to be displeased and mortified when we contemplate the superior prosperity, ha

cerning their neighbours, and have not a little of the true gossipping spirit. This is a bad habit. It degrades the individual who indulges it, in the view of all wise, reflecting people; often involves in painful explanations and difficulties; and is frequently followed by consequences of the most perplexing and disreputable kind. Never indulge the disposition to repeat i

their lives in gaiety and mirth, are "dead while they live." But by cultivating habitual cheerfulness, I mean cherishing a pleasant state of the animal spirits; as opposed to constitutional gloom, mental depression, and settled, clouded taciturnity, I mean habits, not of light, but of liv

is is often best attained by a change of employment. When you have finished a sedentary task, which required intense application of mind, think, for a moment, whether there be not some other object to which you may attend for a short time, which will require no mental effort, but by attention to which, you may promote either your own health or comfort, or the advantage of others. Make it your daily study to "redeem the time." Try to turn every moment to some valuable account. For this purpose, f

e to health. It is highly advantageous to the activity and strength of the powers of the mind. And it is an admirable defence against a thousand irregularities and mischiefs which cloud the faculties, destroy comfort, and lead to multiplied forms of disease, and to premature graves. If you habitually restrain appetite, deny yourselves, and "let your moderation be known" in all things, and to all men, you will avoid many evils which continually beset those who act on the system of self-indulgence. Never drink any thing but pure water, when in health; indulge in animal food but once in each day, and that in smaller quantiti

n all irregular tempers; "if it be possible, as much as lieth in you, to live peaceably with all men;" to avoid wounding the feelings of any one with whom you converse

ER V

NN

ined her friends. I am sure if you had been old enough at her decease to appreciate them; or, if I could now depict them to the life, you would have a deeper impression of the importance of happy manners; of their value to their possessor;

o farther. The most beautiful face and form that ever existed, if unaccompanied by agreeable manners, will soon be contemplated with indifference, if not with disgust. While, on the contrary, where there is an entire abs

s indulged. For although that work was intended more particularly for the benefit of clergymen, and especially of candidates for the sacred office; yet a large portion of it is equally applicable to all classes and professions, and to both sexes. I recommend the

fectionate advices, to call your attention to a few particulars on this subject which may be considered as more immediately appropr

a word, "true politeness"-the most genuine politeness-that which I would earnestly desire those whom I love to cherish and cultivate-is the religion of Christ acted out in the whole temper, conversation, and deportment. The simple, unembarrassed, gentle expression of mingled

ble to discern whether you are wise and well informed; but every child can see whether you have a sweet voice, a pleasant countenance, an amiable, kind and respectful mode of address, or the contrary. Can there be, then, a more obvious dictate, both of policy and duty, than to cultivate that which, to multitudes, is more attractive than real merit; which secures to merit a hearing, and an influence which it would not otherwise obtain; and which will be likely, in many cases, to open a door to usefulness which, without it, would, in all probability, have continued impenetrably c

se who know it to be truth, finds a more cordial welcome; and duty, even among its most sincere and enlightened friends, commands a more ready obedience, when they are clothed in an attractive garb, and speak in alluring accents. That the very same words, which, when uttered by some, are intolerably offensive; when spoken in the mild, respectful manner of o

precious means of gaining access to the human heart. And when I speak of cultivating good manners, do not imagine that I mean the formal, showy, pompous manners which some commend, and seem to aim at. The truth is, the perfection of manners-th

this consists in the spirit of cordial good will and kindness shining in the countenance; expressing itself in the language and tones of respect and benevolent regard; and flowing through all the channels of human intercourse, and all the minuti? of human life. This is the vital principle of good manners. Just in proportion as you really desire to increase the happiness of all around you; to con

se, is a great breach of good manners; cannot fail of giving pain to those with whom you converse; and must deprive you of a large part of the benefit of conversation. When you look your companion gently and respectfully, but

t, to every thing that is adapted to repel, or to prevent freedom and comfort of approach. I am aware that constitutional temperament has much to do with this. But still, it is equally true that affability may a

pression. By a mild, respectful address, you may at once reprove impertinence, disarm violence, and put even brutality to shame. Give all diligence, then, to be "gentle toward all men." Learn the happy art of conversing with gentleness, of giving your commands with gentlenes

on, it is equally exceptionable as an offence against both delicacy and dignity. With regard to females, an offence against this rule, is peculiarly revo

offensive. Mutual dignity and respect are indispensable to the continued existence of Christian intercourse, in its most pure, delicate, and profitable form. If you wish to main

tements, is an offence against delicate manners. However erroneous he may be, hear him out; and however certain

ever rich and instructive any one's talk may be, yet, if there be too much of it, both his dignity and his influence cannot fail of being impaired. "A fool's voice," says Solomon, "is known by the multi

n a chilling reserve in company-never speaking but when addressed; and then answering as briefly as possible, and relapsing into silence again. This is surely unhappy in a social being, and ought to be carefully avoided. While you avoid garrulity, the

pe, after the training you have had, you will avoid with instinctive repugnance. But there is one habit which I would earnestly recommend, as favourable not merely to good manners, but also to health. Learn to sit erect, not only in company, but even in your most private apartment. Reading or

t, there is so much danger of their indulging those talents unseasonably and imprudently, so as to offend and alienate friends, that such powers ought to be deprecated rather than desired, and their exercise, if possessed, subjected to the severest restriction. I never knew more than one person of wit who was strictly discreet and

magination. Hence we perpetually find people talking of themselves; what they have done; what they have said; what others have said and done to their honour; in short, bringing into view something to their own advantage, or that of the

ould be placed by it in embarrassing circumstances. Be very sure for example, when about to make, in company, an unfavourable remark on an absent person, that no relative or special friend of that person is among your hearers. For, although you ought never to make a remark on any one which the Christian spirit cannot justify; yet in certain circumstances, a re

order;" or in some terms expressive of the very highest excellence. And, on the other hand, if they undertake to express disapprobation, the terms "mean," "execrable," "detestable," are the softest that they think of employing. This is a bad habit. It renders both the praise and censure of those who indulge it of less value in the estimation of al

d others constantly employed in waiting upon them. You may rely upon it you can never be, long together, welcome visitants in families which you subject to so much trouble. Make as few demands as possible on the time and attention of those whose hospitality you are enjoying. Never call upon their servants to wait upon you when it is

whole family into disorder, and inflict very serious pain. Never sit long in your social calls at any time; but when you make them at times which may, by possibility interfere with domestic meals,

tom and a cause of feeble digestion, of nervous debility, and of general languor. Go early to bed. Avoid much night study. Quit your beds by dawn of day, and, in winter, before the dawn, and

nd folly; and even in young females, an excessive indulgence in fashion, in finery, and the extreme of devotion to bodily adorning, never fails to depress their character in the estimation of the wise and good. Try to set an example of sober, dignified moderation in regard to this whole subject. Always guard against negligence of dress. Conscientiously avoid exposing yourselves t

order in which I have placed my counsels, that I consider real heart religion as the most indispensable and precious of all attainments; that my first and highest wish concerning you is, that you may love your Father's and Mother's God, and make it your daily aim to

y enjoying, impose upon you a solemn responsibility in the sight both of God and man. Many prayers have ascended to heaven on your behal

you cannot rely upon your own wisdom or strength to do this. Such are your own infirmities, and so multiplied the temptations and allurements which surround you, that you will ne

ss of that God who blessed your Parents, I feel willing to commit you into his hands, and to trust his grace for your temporal and eternal welfare. May he guide you by his counsel! May he guard you amidst all the dangers of youth and of riper years; and finally, "present you faultless before the presence of his glory with ex

nate Gra

EL M

n, July

E

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dle, youthful group, in which profanity and disorder were beginning their destructive career. Through their influence, in a great measure, the Sabbath wa

" and the effects of his wise and holy instruction and discipline, we have no doubt are felt in the bosom of many families, and in the hearts of many individuals

r feet: Therefore the Lord will smite with a scab the crown of the head of the daughters of Zion: The Lord will take away in that day the bravery of their tinkling ornaments Footnote: about their feet, and their cauls, and their round tires like the moon, the chains, and the bracelets, and the mufflers, the bonnets, an

the purchase of a commodious dwelling, which was presented to Mrs. Breckinridge and her children. It is true, one object in view was, the accommodation of the Professor (for the time) of Pastoral Theology and Missionary instruction in the Seminary. But the term

p Heber, written after his decease; and though fanciful it is striking. Blesse

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in the last moments, called on her mother to die with her. This was the voice of nature. To

barous land, far away from any creature who cared for their Lord or for them. Suddenly his friend was taken from him. In that awful moment of desertion and anguish, after commendin

th, prefixed to his