Nor, thirdly, is this zeal a criterion of the value or importance of religious opinions. It is matter of obvious remark, that men are often most zealous in regard to things of comparatively little moment. There is no stronger confirmation of this, than is furnished by the history of religious controversy. It is a melancholy truth, to which the annals of the church, in almost every age, bear the fullest attestation, that the most intense and heated zeal has ever been called forth in the support and defence of opinions, in themselves, most unimportant. Minute differences in doctrine, trifling ceremonies, disputes concerning outward apparel, the observance of fasts and feast days, these and numberless other subjects as trifling, have excited a zeal which could only be quenched by the outpouring of innocent blood. Human nature scarcely anywhere appears under so humiliating an aspect, as it wears in the pages of ecclesiastical history. Not only do we find there idle theories and empty forms preferred before the plain and solid truths of the gospel, but an excess of zeal enlisted in their support, which is often extravagant in precise proportion to their insignifi

cance.

Mere zeal, then, is no decisive proof, either of the reality of christian attainments, or of the soundness or value of the religious opinions, with which it is allied. What, then, it may be asked, is zeal of no importance in our religious concerns? Is it to be swept from the catalogue of christian motives and influences? Are we not, in express words, required to be "fervent in spirit?" I answer that it is of great and essential importance; that it is to be cherished and cultivated in our inmost hearts; and that without the fervency it inspires we must despair of spiritual strength and growth. But what zeal is thus

important? This is the great question. It is not an excitement of the feelings, which may have more of earth in it than of heaven; not a zeal which is unenlightened and undirected by God's word; not a zeal which disregards the claims and feelings of others; not a zeal which is dogmatical; not a zeal which is intolerant; not a zeal which is exclusive; not a zeal which is pharisaically proud; not a zeal which "stirreth up the city and maketh tumults;"-but a true christian zeal; a zeal which springs from love to God and love to man; a zeal which animated our Saviour and Lord to live and die for a sinful world; a zeal which prompted the holy apostles to pray and weep before God for all men; to endure contempt and persecution, winds and tempests, seas and prisons, mockings and scourgings, fastings and poverty, labors and wretchedness, and finally to bind their brows with the thorny crown of martyrdom, for their sake; a zeal of humility, a zeal of kindness; in a word, a zeal of a true heaven-born christian charity, which beareth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things; of a charity which never faileth.

We do most highly value a zeal like this. We would enlist all our good affections in the service of our religion. We believe they are necessary to give animation to principle and efficacy to good intentions. We fear being so much afraid of the excesses of fanaticism, as not to allow these affections their rightful influence. We should think it a strong objection to any system of faith, that it had no direct tendency to call them into strong and vigorous exercise. We believe, as fully as any can, that it is utterly vain to bow at the shrines of our religion, if we do not lay our hearts upon her altars.

I have been thus circumstantial, perhaps too circumstan

tial, on this part of the subject, because it brings into plain view a sad and wide spread error; and because it indicates and furnishes the proper reply to the objection which I have undertaken to answer. It is often strangely thought, that religious opinions are to be valued by the degree of zeal, good or bad, right or wrong, they are capable of producing, or that can, by any means, be identified with them; and that this zeal sends back upon the opinions themselves, a redeeming and sanctifying influence. Nothing is more common than to hear persons claiming a preference for their religious belief, on account of their zeal in giving, their zeal in proselytizing, their zeal in making individual sacrifices; and it is a claim which too often passes, without examination, as valid. But it is, nevertheless, true, that it is not the quantity of zeal only which is to be taken into the account, but also its nature and effects.

If the foregoing remarks are just, it is obvious, in the first place, that no legitimate inference against the truth or importance of any system of faith can be derived from the conduct of its professors: and secondly, that the mere quantity of zeal which is enlisted by any form of religious faith, or is, by any means conjoined with it, affords no test, either of christian attainment, or of the truth or value of the opinions holden. Though the fact, then, be admitted, that we want that zeal on which some of our christian brethren value themselves, and decry us, the inference from it is lame, null and worthless.

I might safely, it is believed, rest my reply to the objection, under discussion, on these grounds. But the subject demands a wider range of remark. Be it then observed, in the second place, that there are many considerations which modify our zeal, and the expressions

of it, which do not, in the slightest degree, impair its vitality and power as a principle of conduct. And I now proceed to advert, as was proposed, to some of those circumstances which have conspired to give our views of Christian truth an appearance, I say an appearance, of being speculative, cold, and inoperative upon the affections.

One of the circumstances, which has had, as is believed, this effect, is the manner in which they have sometimes been inculcated. I would speak with a becoming diffidence on this subject, and as one who claims no exemption from what he cannot but think is a faulty method of enforcing the claims of any religion. Our views, then, of Christianity, it is apprehended, have been but too often presented in a manner cold, formal, and didactic; as if they were mere truths in moral philosophy; as if it were enough to make men Christians, to convince them that it is wise and expedient to become Christians; as if the reasoning head were alone to be consulted, and not the believing heart; as if the affections were not necessary to impart life and vigor to our convictions. In those topics, by which the will is to be influenced as well as the mind instructed; where information is not so necessary as persuasion; where impression is more important than conviction; where the infinite fallacies of selfdeceit are to be detected; the moral infirmities of men probed; a stubborn worldliness to be broken; the iron chains of habits to be rent asunder; the palsied conscience to be quickened; where, in a word, light is to be thrown in upon the dark concealments of self-love, and the heart is to be touched and the deeper feelings interested; mere abstract speculations, however elegant, refined, or just, are frigid, ill-adapted and unaffecting.

We want something which bears more the stamp of reality; something which is less staid and official; something, too, more distinct, more direct, close and plain-spoken ; something to assure us that we are the persons addressed; we are the persons interested; something to convince us that we are not listening to a discourse on abstract questions in morals, but to the gospel of Jesus Christ; a gospel enforced by all that a rational being can hope or fear; a gospel addressed to us individually, and which we are to receive or reject at our own personal peril.

There is a manner of writing, too, which is, in itself, unexceptionable, and yet utterly bad as a means of persuasion. A composition may be faultless, saving only that it is without force. It is possible to fill up the time with a sermon, which shall have proper words in proper places," which shall exhibit, throughout, a high literary finish, and be illustrated, moreover, with fine and tasteful imagery; but which, after all, will be, so far as respects the legitimate objects of preaching, less affecting than the wild strains of fanaticism, as powerless as the prattle of a child. Great results are sacrificed in a studied attention to details; powerful impression, in a pursuit of the minor graces of diction; the benefit of the many, in an excessive deference to the refined tastes of a few. Anything, almost, that has pith and point is better than this sentence-making, this tame and lifeless rhetoric. The great, the noble, the commanding aim of the speaker, should ever be kept in view; and this is not the amusement, not the gratification of his hearers; still less their admiration of himself; but their conviction, their persuasion; it is to stamp deeply and irresistibly on their minds the impress of his own. "I would rather," says St Paul, "speak five words with my understanding, that by my