obviously must abate: the extent of the requisitions of the Divine law, a subject now diligently stu. died, begins to be understood, and the penitent learns to humble him self in the very dust, and even abhors that plea of the merit of his own righteousness, in which, not withstanding the professions of his creed, he had been accustomed to trust. Ile also is naturally led to ascribe this great change in his condition to the sovereign acts of that gracious Providence which has spared his life, and opened a way for his escape into this new land of righteousness. Ought we to restrain these lively feelings, or to be in haste to chastise them? I apprehend that our Lord, who himself would not break the bruised reed, or quench the smoking flax, by no means intended that his ministers should discourage sensibilities of this sort. It is their great, their chief duty, to produce and to extend them. Feelings, which are simply such as I have described, should be hailed as the prognostics of a new life of practical virtue and goodness; should be contemplated with the highest satisfaction and hope, rather than with any very anxious or trembling fear, and in stead of being repressed as capable of being carried too far.

I now proceed, however, to describe those gradual approaches to Antinomianism, and other kindred errors, to which in the course of our religious progress we are all liable to fall. But here I must premise, that there is a class of errors directly opposite to those about to be described, which ought also to be feared. I do not now dwell on these; because, in doing so, I should extend my paper much too far. I shall occasionally advert to them; and I anxiously request every reader to bear in mind that they exist: for this reflection is a necessary preservative against misconceptions into which he might fall. *

*

CHRIST. OBSERV. No. 197.

Good works are that part of the Gospel which men have most agreed to admire and approve; for where is even the infidel who does not plead for them, or the profligate who does not praise them? The faith, the trust, the love, the hope on which the Scriptures equally insist, and which bave been described in some of your former pages", are by many deemed to be speculative, mysterious, or unattainable; adapted only to the retired and contemplative few, and incompatible with the active duties of this bustling and busy world. Good works, after all, it is said, are the great ultimate end of religion; and these being performed by us, we hope to stand acquitted for our deficiency in some points which are held in honour by the theologians.

• Alluding to the well-known papers on these subjects which appeared in the Christian Observer, from the pen of the late John Bowdler, juu. Esq. and which have, since his death, been published among his Remains.

2 R

These zealots for good works will be found, however, to betray their cause. They affix their own meaning to the term, and have established a standard of their own; and will be found, on a close inquiry into the case, to object as much to the pure practical part of the Gospel, as to the most obnoxious doctrines in its system of faith.

The causes, however, of this general praise of what are called good works, and of this almost as general conspiracy against works really good, deserve to be more fully examined.

First, then, I apprehend that there is in the nature of man a faculty of distinguishing in some degree between right and wrong, and a disposition to disapprove of what is known to be evil, and to approve of what is perceived to be good; which will in part account for that praise of good works which is so common in this corrupt world. ***

5. Religious Society in a Country

Town.

Will you allow me, Mr. Editor, to offer a few very free and familiar remarks on the state of society in the place in which I live, and on certain difficulties in which I find myself, in consequence of the want of an exact agreement in our religious opinions between myself and most of the surrounding persons even of a serious class. My

may not be singular, and the very description of it may afford some useful hints to many of your readers.

I am an inhabitant of a large country town, where there are many churches; and, to use a current expression in the place, we are sup posed to have "the Gospel" preached in two, if not in three, of them. Our religious sects are very numerous. We have a few Quakers, many Baptists, a congregation of Methodists which is fast advancing, and a wild party or two headed by self-elected preachers, and said,

though I believe rather too strongly and incautiously, to be Antinomian in their character. I myself am of the Church of England, and endeavour to train up a large family according to her doctrines and institutions.

I should also tell you, that we have a play-house in the town, and a public ball once a month, as well as weekly card parties in the ballroom. We have, besides, some races in the neighbourhood once a year, and then there is a general burst of gaiety. Our members are at the head of these festivities; and all the clergy, except those who are of what is called the Evangelical order, and one whose age is very advanced, partake in them. My own occupations happen to be such as to exempt me, in the general opinion of even my gayest neighbours, from all sort of obligation to attend any scenes of public amusement; and the cast of my family is so far intellectual that they also stand excused, in the eye of the more candid part of the ball-frequenting body. To say the truth, however, I have made it my practice not to say very much against any of these places of amusement.

The religious parties among us are of various minds in this particular; but they, generally speaking, are decided enemies of the playhouse, the card table, and the ballroom and the few of that body who speak in measured terms on these subjects are deemed doubtful characters. I believe I am myself esteemed a person of this class, although chiefly perhaps for reasons which I have still to explain and develope.

It will now be necessary for me to enter into some particularity. I must tell you, then, that we have one or two persons in our religious societies whom in my conscience I believe to be either no Christians at all-I wish to exercise all charity while I say itor Christians of a very low order, who, nevertheless, are in no surall

estimation among a large part of our devouter people. They are men, Mr. Editor, certainly of warm zeal, but of eager, forward dispositions. There is a religious vanity about them ** *

6. On a common Species of selfdeception.

Permit me, Mr. Editor, to offer to you a few brief remarks on a species of heresy, or rather of selfdeception, which is by no means uncommon, and even extends itself to some professors of evangelical religion. I allude to the practice which many persons have, of excusing their neglect of some duty, or their indulgence of some unchristian disposition, on the ground of the assumed impossibility of overcoming the fault in question. By some, the corruption of human nature in general; by others, a particularity in their own temperament, is the plea resorted to. It is astonishing how every arrow of the preacher is blunted, and every admonition of Christian friends counteracted, by a few common-place sayings, to which they always resort. Are fretfulness or impatience their characteristic faults? Are they out of humour as often as some little plan which they had formed is obstructed by an interfering event? Does the commotion in their minds produce a general perturbation in the family, and serve to disgrace them before their children and servants, and thus to bring their religion into contempt? They do not apply themselves to the remedy of this evil, because they affirm their temper to be incurable. They wish it was possible to be calm under such circumstances. They envy the happiness of those who find it easy to be so. For their part, they are endowed with so much natural sensibility, that they cannot be cold and phleg. matic in the midst of so much cuase of irritation. They blame those who expect them to be more patient, on account of their demand

ing impossibilities, and wanting charity for persons whose temperament happens to differ from their own. Weak nerves, indifferent health, and a thousand other apologies unknown to Scripture, are employed to justify their sin. Not the smallest effort is made to conquer it; not the slightest degree of repentance exercised on account of it. The infirmity, if I may call it by so light a name, increases under this mode of dealing with it; and perhaps some Christian friend, who by much prayer and frequent selfdenial has obtained the mastery over the sin in question, and is exhibiting an example of what may be achieved on this very point, is disliked on the precise ground of not participating in the fault, and is at least considered as having some natural advantage, which is compensated by the unamiableness attending his equanimity.

I might instance various other faults, for which the same plea of inability is urged. Indolence, for example, is often defended on the same ground. "Were I naturally active, like you, I would exert myself after your manner. It is well for you that you are so fond of exertion my tendencies are all the other way." The fear of man is excused on the same principle. "It is quite impossible that I should stand up as you do, and contradict a whole company: it is contrary to my nature. To you it is easy to assert your singularity: to me it is death. O how I envy you this faculty! I have no doubt you have a pleasure in the exercise of it."

Akin to this error is another more general one, on which it may be expedient here to touch. Some persons affirm, and they affect a kind of philosophy in affirming it, that all mankind act, in every thing, according to their several propensities, and universally do what they like. There is scarcely a sentiment more subversive of religion than this. Every one, it is

said, has his taste.

Is one man, after a thousand struggles with the sin which once so easily beset him, arrived at the dominion over it? Is he become eminent for that very virtue which it was most difficult for him to obtain? Has God strengthened him with might by his Spirit in the inner man, and rewarded his fervent prayer for grace with grace equal to his need? "He follows his taste," say these cold, philosophizing moralists: "he pursues his bumour, and I also pursue mine. He may have some advantage over me, inasmuch as his temper leads him to a better object; but we are on a level on the whole. Our merit is equal, because we equally obey certain instinctive feelings; and though he is leading a profitable life, and I am somewhat useless, as I must admit, yet my conscience need not trouble me: God will doubtless accept us both. The great point is to be charitable to each other; and charity requires that we should freely allow all men to please themselves by following their respective tastes. The world is made happy, on the whole, by this diversity of characters. It is not necessary that all should be philanthropic, or that all should be devout."

I have thought fit, Mr. Editor, to give more shape and substance to this error than is commonly afforded to it; and I would here observe, that it very nearly resembles the necessarianism of the Atheist. Like necessarianism, it manifestly annihilates all responsibility; for, if we are invariably impelled by our natural tastes in a given direction, and can neither help ourselves nor obtain help from God, it is unfair to punish us for what we do. It is to our fate that we must refer these unconquerable tastes; and it is therefore our fate which must be blamed on account of them: or rather, there is nothing blameworthy and nothing praiseworthy in any human action.

The connexion of this sweeping

error with that which I began by describing, need not be particularly pointed out. In the one case, a few particular faults or infirmities are assumed to be unconquerable: in the other, all the actions of the man are supposed to flow from a general law of necessity: and consistency of principle seems to require that those who incline to the former error should also adopt the latter, in all its generality and strength. I would hope that some of your readers may be induced by this observation, to suspect the very commencement of that train of reasoning which leads us to think our sins are unconquerable. Let me entreat them to read the holy Scriptures with a reference to this very point. Do they think that any, either of our sins or infirmities, are to be submitted to, as enemies against whom it is impossible successfully to contend? Is it not the very end of Scripture to rouse men to exertion against all the adversaries of their souls, to awaken conscience, to produce a new hatred of sin, to inspire hope that we may prevail against it, and, above all, to point to that effectual aid of the Holy Spirit, which shall ensure success? In the confidence of this aid the Apostle exclaimed, "I can do all things, through Christ which strengtheneth me.”

(To be continued.)

For the Christian Observer. ESSAYS ON COWPER'S POEM OF THE TASK. No. I. THE public voice has long ranked Cowper among the most popular of our English poets: his works are found in every library, and his admirers are almost as numerous as his readers. The interest also which the public have felt in every thing relative to him, has been evinced by the extensive sale of his Life and Letters; a work which is said to

have produced his biographer a sum little short of eleven thousand pounds. This general anxiety to be acquainted with the events of his life, and with the unstudied effusions of his confidential letters, could have arisen only from the universal interest which his writings have excited; and it is very remarkable, that the most notorious depreciator of Cowper's poetry, among his contemporaries, has herself sunk in the estimation of the public, even lower than she laboured to depress himt, while he continues a universal favourite. "Opinionum commenta delet dies, naturæ judicia confirmat."

Of living authors, some are admired and followed by the gay world: they are fashionably popular; but this popularity, like every other fashionable article, has but a transient existence. Others again are critically popular: they have been praised by Johnson, or have received the applauses of some celebrated Review; and these encomiums are re-echoed by every pretender to literature. But the popularity of Cowper rests on more solid foundations. Criticism might fill pages with examples of what may be called poetical defects, of inharmonious expressions, or of rugged versification; and the light in which he regarded the follies and vices of the gay world might be expected to ensure his condemnation in the eyes of those who are chargeable with all that he reprobates. Yet notwithstanding this, the captivating accuracy of his * See H Tooke's Life, vol. II. p. 498. + See Miss Seaward's Life and Correspondence. She composed a "Remonstrance to the Author of the Task," which, though she never sent it to him, she left for publication, with twelve quarto voJumes of her Letters. It is to her, I imagine, Mr. Hayley alludes, as a lady whose displesaure Cowper of all men would have been most truly sorry to have excited, had he been as well acquainted with the charms of her conversation as he was with her literary talents. Svo. edit.

descriptions, the lively playfulness of his wit, his just delineations of character, his delicate poignancy of satire, and, above all, the affecting and majestic simplicity of those passages in which he touches on religion, the subject nearest his heart, constitute the charms which endear his poetry even to those who dissent from his opinions or would criticize his numbers.

In investigating the cause of this general popularity, we may trace it, in the first place, to the simplicity of his language, which makes him intelligible even to the poor and unlearned; whom also he naturally delights by the accuracy with which he describes the scenes they daily behold. Even a peasant may be charmed with his description of a farm-yard on a snowy day ("inopem solatur;") and a very short walk in any cultivated part of England is sufficient to recal to our minds numberless passages from his poems, by making us feel the accuracy with which he has described the face of nature, and the instincts and habits of its wild inhabitants. If we ascend through all the gradations of intellectual or fashionable society, we shall still find Cowper admired. The former are pleased with his expressive dic. tion, or beguiled by his playful humour; and many a female mind, whom fashionable gaiety and dissipation have detained from improving study, delights to recal, by a perusal of the Task, those recollections of early days and simple pleasures which are associated with the lines of this favourite bard. But it is Cowper's higher praise, that his just and scriptural views of true religion have procured him readers of a class who are in general but little conversant with poetry, and have rendered him preeminently the poet of the religious

world. Minds that would be daz zled and bewildered with the sublimity of Milton, can repose with delight upon his milder radiance; and such as, having little leisure to read,