the morning; nor was he likely to spend the day in the fear of God, who did not begin it with his worship. But he had not the less sense, spirit, and activity, when he was among men abroad, because he had first served God at home.

As these two farmers rode along, Mr. Worthy took occasion, from the fineness of the day, and the beauty of the country through which they passed, to turn the discourse to the goodness of God, and our infinite obligations to him. He knew that the transition from thanksgiving to prayer would be natural and easy; and he therefore, sliding by degrees into that important subject, observed, that secret prayer was a duty of universal obligation, which every man had it in his power to fulfil, and which he seriously believed was the groundwork of all religious practice and of all devout affections.

Mr. Bragwell felt conscious that he was very negligent and irregular in the performance of this duty; indeed, he considered it as a mere ceremony, or, at least, as a duty which might give way to the slightest temptation of drowsiness at night, or of business in the morning. As he knew he did not live in the conscientious performance of this practice, he tried to ward off the subject, knowing what a home way his friend had of putting things. After some evasion, he at last said, he certainly thought private prayer a good custom, especially for people who have time; and that those who were sick, or old, or out of business, could not do better; but that, for his part, he believed much of these sort of things was not expected from men in active life.

Mr. Worthy. I should think, Mr. Bragwell, that those who are most exposed to temptation stand most in need of prayer; now, there are few, methinks, who are more exposed to temptation than men in business; for those must be in most danger, at least from the world, who have most to do with it. And if this be true, ought we not to prepare ourselves in the closet for the trials of the market, the field, and the shop? It is but putting on our armor before we go out to battle.

Bragwell. For my part, I think example is the whole of religion; and if the master of a family is orderly, and regular, and goes to church, he does every thing which can be required of him, and no one has a right to call him to account for any thing more.

Worthy. Give me leave to say, Mr. Bragwell, that, highly as I rate a good example, still I must set a good principle above it. I know I must keep good order indeed, for the

VOL. I..

sake of others; but I must keep a good conscience, for my own sake. To God I owe secret piety: I must therefore pray to him in private. To my family I owe a Christian example; and for that, among other reasons, I must not fail to go to

church.

Bragwell. You are talking, Mr. Worthy, as if I were an enemy to religion. Sir, I am no heathen. Sir, I am a Christian; I belong to the church; I go to church; I always drink prosperity to the church. You yourself, as strict as you are, in never missing it twice a day, are not a warmer friend to the church than I am.

Worthy. That is to say, you know its inestimable value as a political institution; but you do not seem to know that a man may be very irreligious under the best religious institutions; and that even the most excellent only furnishes the means of being religious, and is no more religion itself than brick and mortar are prayers and thanksgivings. I shall never think, however high their profession, and even however regular their attendance, that those men truly respect the church, who bring home little of that religion which is taught in it, into their own families, or their own hearts; or, who make the whole of Christianity to consist in a mere formal attendance there. Excuse me, Mr. Bragwell.

Bragwell. Mr. Worthy, I am persuaded that religion is quite a proper thing for the poor; and I don't think that the multitude can ever be kept in order without it; and I am a sort of politician, you know. We must have bits and bridles, and restraints for the vulgar.

Worthy. Your opinion is very just, as far as it goes; but it does not go far enough, since it does not go to the root of the evil; for while you value yourself on the soundness of this principle as a politician, I wish you also to see the reason of it as a Christian depend upon it, if religion be good for the community at large, it is equally good for every family; and what is right for a family, is equally right for each individual in it. You have therefore yourself brought the most unanswerable argument why you ought to be religious yourself, by asking how we shall keep others in order without religion. For, believe me, Mr. Bragwell, there is no particular clause to except you, in the Gospel. There are no exceptions there in favor of any one class of men. The same restraints which are necessary for the people at large, are equally necessary for men of every order, high and low, rich and poor, bond and free, learned and ignorant. If Jesus Christ died for no one particular rank, class, or community, then there is no

one rank, class, or community exempt from the obedience to his laws enjoined by the Gospel. May I ask you, Mr. Bragwell, what is your reason for going to church?

Bragwell. Sir, I am shocked at your question. How can I avoid doing a thing so customary and so creditable? Not go to church, indeed! What do you take me for, Mr.. Worthy? I am afraid you suspect me to be a papist, or a heathen, or of some religion or other that is not Christian.

Worthy. If a foreigner were to hear how violently one set of Christians in this country often speak against another, how earnest would he suppose us all to be in religious matters! and how astonished to discover that many a man has perhaps little other proof to give of the sincerity of his own religion, except the violence with which he hates the religion of another party! It is not irreligion which such men hate, but the religion of the man or the party whom they are set against: now, hatred is certainly no part of the religion of the Gospel. Well, you have told me why you go to church: now pray tell me, why do you confess there on your bended knees, every Sunday, that "you have erred and strayed from God's ways"?" that there is no health in you"?" that you have done what you ought not to do"?" and that you are a miserable sinner"?

Bragwell. Because it is in the Common Prayer Book, to be sure; a book which I have heard you yourself say was written by wise and good men, the glory of Christianity, the pillars of the Protestant church.

Worthy. But have you no other reason?
Bragwell. No, I can't say I have.

Worthy. When you repeat that excellent form of confession, do you really feel that you are a miserable sinner? Bragwell. No, I can't say I do. But that is no objection to my repeating it; because it may suit the case of many who are so. I suppose the good doctors who drew it up intended that part for wicked people only, such as drunkards, and thieves, and murderers; for I imagine they could not well contrive to make the same prayer quite suit an honest man and a rogue; and so I suppose they thought it safer to make a good man repeat a prayer which suited a rogue, than to make a rogue repeat a prayer which suited a good man; and you know it is so customary for every body to repeat the general confession, that it can't hurt the credit of the most respectable persons, though every respectable person must know they have no particular concern in it, as they are not sinners.

Worthy. Depend upon it, Mr. Bragwell, those good

doctors you speak of were not quite of your opinion: they really thought that what you call honest men were grievous sinners in a certain sense, and that the best of us stand in need of making that humble confession. Mr. Bragwell, do you believe in the fall of Adam?

Bragwell. To be sure I do; and a sad thing for Adam it was why, it is in the Bible, is it not? It is one of the prettiest chapters in Genesis. Don't you believe it, Mr. Worthy?

But

Worthy. Yes, truly I do. But I don't believe it merely because I read it in Genesis; though, I know, indeed, that I am bound to believe every part of the word of God. I have still an additional reason for believing in the fall of the first man. Bragwell. that can be.

Have you, indeed? Now, I can't guess what

Worthy. Why, my own observation of what is within myself teaches me to believe it. It is not only the third chapter of Genesis which convinces me of the truth of the fall, but also the sinful inclinations which I find in my own heart corresponding with it. This is one of those leading truths of Christianity of which I can never doubt a moment; first, because it is abundantly expressed or implied in Scripture; and next, because the consciousness of the evil nature I carry about with me confirms the doctrine beyond all doubt. Besides, is it not said in Scripture, that by one man sin entered into the world, and that "all we, like lost sheep, have gone astray"?" that by one man's disobedience many were made sinners"?-and so again in twenty more places that I could tell you of?

Bragwell. Well; I never thought of this. But is not this a very melancholy sort of doctrine, Mr. Worthy?

But

Worthy. It is melancholy, indeed, if we stop here. while we are deploring this sad truth, let us take comfort from another, that, "as in Adam all die, so in Christ shall all be made alive."

.

Bragwell. Yes; I remember I thought those very fine words, when I heard them said over my poor father's grave. But as it was in the Burial of the Dead, I did not think of taking it to myself; for I was then young and hearty, and in little danger of dying, and I have been so busy ever since, that I have hardly had time to think of it.

Worthy. And yet the service pronounced at the burial of all who die, is a solemn admonition to all who live. It is there said, as indeed the Scripture says also, "I am the resurrection and the life: whosoever believeth in me shall never

die, but I will raise him up at the last day." think you believe in Christ, Mr. Bragwell?

Now, do you

Bragwell. To be sure I do; why, you are always fancying me an atheist.

Worthy. In order to believe in Christ, we must believe first in our own guilt and our own unworthiness; and when we do this, we shall see the use of a Savior, and not till then. Bragwell. Why, all this is a new way of talking. I can't say I ever meddled with such subjects before in my life. But now, what do you advise a man to do, upon your plan of religion?

Worthy. Why, all this leads me back to the ground from which we set out; I mean the duty of prayer; for if we believe that we have an evil nature within us, and that we stand in need of God's grace to help us, and a Savior to redeem us, we shall be led of course to pray for what we so much need; and without this conviction we shall not be led to pray.

Bragwell. Well, but don't you think, Mr. Worthy, that you good folks, who make so much of prayer, have lower notions than we have of the wisdom of the Almighty? You think he wants to be informed of the things you tell him; whereas, I take it for granted that he knows them already, and that, being so good as he is, he will give me every thing he sees fit to give me, without my asking it.

Worthy. God, indeed, who knows all things, knows what we want before we ask him; but still, has he not said, that, 66 with prayer and supplication we must make known our requests unto him"? Prayer is the way in which God hath said that his favor must be sought. It is the channel through which he hath declared it is his sovereign will and pleasure that his blessings should be conveyed to us. What ascends up in prayer descends again to us in blessings. It is like the rain which just now fell, and which had been drawn up from the ground in vapors to the clouds, before it descended from them to the earth in that refreshing shower. Besides, prayer has a good effect on our minds; it tends to excite a right disposition towards God in us, and to keep up a constant sense of our dependence. But, above all, it is the way to get the good things we want. "Ask," says the scripture, "and ye shall receive."

Bragwell. Now, that is the very thing which I was going to deny; for the truth is, men do not always get what they ask; I believe if I could get a good crop for asking it, I should pray oftener than I do.

Worthy. Sometimes, Mr. Bragwell, men "ask and re