Page images
PDF
EPUB

pray in public with fluency and apparent fervour, or he may not; and whether he is or not, his spirituality consists not in these things, nor are these things to be regarded as certain evidences of it. So far from this, there is often, in connection with deep-toned spirituality of mind, a feeling of self-diffidence and abasement, that shrinks from public exercises, rather than delights in them; that proves its affection for the Supreme, by the extent of its services, and the amount of its sacrifices, rather than by the loudness of its professions. It always bears in mind that solemn admonition of the Apostle, "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, and as a tinkling cymbal."

But the question returns, in what does true spirituality of mind consist? How may it be distinguished? To this question we reply, true spirituality of mind consists in a due, habitual, practical regard to spiritual things. Man is composed of two parts, that connect him with two worlds. He has a body taken from the dust, and intended to lie down in the dust again. This body has appetites, and organs, and faculties peculiar to itself. By the body man is connected with this world. In this world are to be found the objects by which its appetites may be gratified, in which its organs are to be exercised, and in the pursuit of which its various faculties are to be unfolded. By means of the body, with its senses of sight and hearing, of smell and taste and feeling, we are connected with this whole visible creation. And it is impossible to avoid being influenced more or less by the objects that we behold, the sounds to which we listen, the longings that we feel, and the opportunities that offer themselves of satisfying the cravings of our animal. appetites. And when we consider that our fleshly propensities begin to exert their power as soon as we begin to live; that our bodily faculties are developed to a considerable extent before the mind unfolds itself at all; that the objects with which the body is more intimately connected are all of them visible to the eye, or audible to the ear, or sensible to the touch,

while the objects with which the mind is conversant are more distinct and subtile and refined: and when we consider in connexion with all this, the derangement of our powers, that has resulted from the fall,-the subordination of the higher to the lower faculties of the mind, and the subjection of the mind itself to fleshly appetites and earthly considerations that has become natural to man; when we consider these things I say, we shall not wonder that this world exerts so vast and uncontrolled an influence on the minds of most. But man has a mind as well as a body; there is an invisible as well as a visible world;-a world of spirits as well as the world of physical forms and substances that we behold around us.

Spirituality of mind consists in rendering to the soul and its interests, that first and principal attention which their worth and importance so plainly require. It consists in such a daily, constant regard to the invisible world as leads us to view every thing else as of trifling moment when compared with its vast concerns; as leads us to make the pursuit and enjoyment of all earthly good subservient to the culture of our highest faculties, and the promotion of our spiritual and eternal interests. The Apostle describes it where he says, "while we look, not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen, for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal."

A spiritually-minded man has an habitual, deep impression of the reality and importance of spiritual objects. His knowledge of these objects is not of that general, loose, indeterminate character, which makes no distinct impression on the mind, and exerts no influence on the life. His faith in their existence is not so feeble and ill-founded as that which generally prevails; a faith that awakens no desires, forms no purposes, calls forth no resolute, diligent, self-denying efforts. No,his acquaintance with spiritual objects is sufficiently close and intimate to make clear, distinct, abiding impressions on his mind; his faith in their existence is so strong that it enkindles in his soul ardent aspirations, and

awakens in his breast pure and generous emotions; it leads him solemnly to resolve on the utmost possible improvement of all his spiritual powers, as well as faithfully and diligently to fulfill this resolution. With him the idea of God is a living, powerful reality. God is unseen, 'tis true; visible objects and earthly solicitudes tend to crowd him out of his recollection, and banish him from his thoughts; but he sees the proofs of the divine existence so plainly written both on the outward creation and on his own spiritual nature; he is so familiar with God's character as revealed in the Scriptures, and that character appears to him so lovely and so glorious, that with him there is no truth so real, so interesting, and so important, as the existence and the presence of the first Great Cause of all. He perceives traces of his Creator's wisdom and power and love in every object on which he casts his eyes, and in every sound that strikes his ear. The sun that shines by day, and the moon that sheds her soft and silver beams upon the earth by night; the variegated landscape and the murmuring stream; the majestic mountain and the quiet, lovely dale; the raging tempest and the soft refreshing breeze; the rigours of winter and the smiles of summer; the verdure and freshness of the opening spring, and the teeming plenty of autumn; all, all proclaim to him the presence of his Father and his God. And when he turns from nature to revelation; when he reads the character of the Great Supreme, on the sacred page of inspiration; when he sees that character unfolded in all its tenderness and loveliness in the conduct of his beloved Son, "Jesus of Nazareth, who went about doing good;" when he sees the God of heaven and earth approving himself in every respect the friend and benefactor of mankind; when he contemplates his unsullied purity, his unbending righteousness, his long forbearance, his overflowing, boundless love; when he beholds these truths not recorded in laboured descriptions and established by abstract, metaphysical reasonings, but practically illustrated, made visible and palpable as it were, in the person and character and work of

Christ; he feels that the idea of God is not a phantom of the imagination, or a cold inoperative article in a dulĺ and lifeless creed; he feels that it is a living warm reality; he cherishes it in his mind as the model of all true virtue and greatness, and as the encouragement and defence of all virtuous principle, of all holy feeling, and of all righteous conduct. It becomes with him THE GREAT THOUGHT to which all other thoughts must be conformed; and by which all the feelings of his heart, and all the actions of his life, must be regulated and controlled. In the emphatic language of Revelation, he sees God; he walks with God; he dwells in God; and God dwells in him. He regards God as the infinite, omnipresent, all pervading Intelligence : and however deep the solitude may be in which he dwells, he feels that he is not alone, for God is with him; however great the crowd in which he moves, he feels the presence of the Invisible God more distinctly than the presence of any earthly, visible being. He walks by faith and not by sight; and so powerful is this principle, that when it has obtained full ascendency in the soul, it avails itself of visible objects and earthly affairs to raise the mind to God, instead of allowing these things to separate the thoughts and affections from God. The idea of God is with faith the all-pervading thought, and it makes use of all the occurrences and relations of life to give this thought distinctness and energy and effect. Is the spiritual man a Father? This relation reminds him of his Father who is in heaven; and all the paternal feelings and solicitudes that fill his breast, only aid him in understanding and realizing the paternal character of God. he a child? The reverence and obedience he cheerfully renders to his earthly parents, assists him in forming just conceptions of that profound homage, that devoted, universal obedience which is due to the Great Parent of the universe. Does he rise from his slumbers at the commencement of the day? His returning consciousness at once reminds him of the great Being from whom his life proceeds, and on whom his life depends. Does he retire to rest at night? He almost involuntarily

Is

thinks of the kind, superintending Providence that watches over his sleeping hours; he remembers with gratitude and joy that "He who keepeth Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps." Does the sun of prosperity shine upon his path and illuminate his footsteps? In that prosperity he sees the expression of God's unbounded love. Does the dark cloud of adversity hover around him, and at last settle on his abode? Through that dark cloud he is still enabled to see the brightness of his Father's countenance, and in composure and resignation he says, Good is the will of the Lord. Whether the objects presented to his view be of a pleas ing or a painful character; whether the course of events be prosperous or adverse, the truly spiritual man makes use of all as a ladder on which to ascend to God. The thought of God is his most cherished, dear, and valued thought; and so distinct are his apprehensions of God's character, and so firm and unshaken his confidence in God's being and presence, that those fine lines of the poet often exactly describe the state of his mind.

"Faith lends its realizing light, The clouds disperse, the shadows fly; The Invisible appears in sight, And God is seen by mortal eye!" A spiritual man thinks freely and spontaneously and habitually of spiritual things. I do not mean that when eyes and hands and thoughts are all necessarily and properly engaged with secular matters, that at the same time he thinks of other things. This is contrary to the laws of our mental constitution, and is, in fact, an impossibility. What I mean is this: that in those seasons of leisure when a man may think of this object or of that, when the direction of a man's thoughts is determined by the character he sustains: in those moments when the drunkard thinks of his cups, and the ambitious man of his honours, and the covetous man of his gold, and the licentious man of his unhallowed pleasures: then, when we all think of that which we most love, and in which we feel most deeply interested; then, the spiritual man thinks of God, of Christ, of holiness, of usefulness, of eternity, of heaven. As naturally and freely as we think of a much loved, absent

friend, does the spiritual man think of God. As naturally and spontaneously as our thoughts fly homeward when we have been long absent from home, do the thoughts of the spiritual man ascend to his home in heaven. Just as an employment in which we feel deeply interested occupies our thoughts during our leisure moments, so does the spiritual man think of God's service as the great business of his life. The architect forms his plans, the mer chant counts his stores, the man of science ponders over the results of his experiments, and the mathema tician tries his problems, when none of them appear to be engaged with such affairs. So is it with the spiritual man. He meditates on the sad condition of a guilty world; he wonders what can be done for its salvation; he lays his plans and watches their operation, he inwardly sighs and prays for their success, when he does not appear to others to be engaged with matters of this description at all. He is spirituallyminded, and his thoughts, whether voluntary or involuntary, still run on spiritual things. His citizenship is in heaven; his affections are there; and his thoughts and conversation are there also.

This a point of great importance; it is a test whereby we may try our character; and it behoves each of my readers seriously to ask himself What is the character of those thoughts which I voluntarily cherish, or which rise up spontaneously in my mind? Are they of the earth, earthy? When my mind is released from necessary attention to worldly things, whether do my thoughts fly? On what objects do they fix themselves? Do they still grovel on the earth? Or do they rise to hea-. ven? Do they fly away to some scene of unhallowed, forbidden pleasure? Or do they dwell on the character of God, the relations he sustains to me, the requirements of his word, and the happiness of dwelling with him for ever? We think of what we love the most; and depend upon it, if we think easily, naturally, habitually, of earthly things; and if it is but seldom and with difficulty that we think of spiritual things;-if we have to do violence to ourselves, as it were, to

fix our thoughts on spiritual subjects, we have no reason to regard ourselves as spiritually-minded, but every reason to fear that the flesh has dominion over us, that we are carnal and sold under sin.

A truly spiritual man regulates all his judgments of good and evil, of gain and loss, by spiritual considerations. Has he to choose a situation for himself? He does not choose that in which he may most rapidly grow rich, or in which he may make the most fashionable imposing appearance; but that in which he will have the best opportunities of cultivating his highest faculties, of maintaining close and intimate communion with God, and of doing good to the bodies and souls of his fellowmen. Has he to choose an employment for his child? He acts on the same principles. He regards the soul more than the body; eternity more than time. Two situations offer. In one of these the youth will have every facility for making a fortune, and rising to worldly eminence and distinction; but in order to this he must be placed under an ungodly master, live in an ungodly family, conform to ungodly customs, and be surrounded in other respects by ungodly, irreligious influences. In the other situation he is not so likely to become a wealthy man, or to rise to so distinguished a position in civil society; but then he will have the unspeakable advantage of living with a pious master, in a pious family, surrounded with pious influences. He will have every thing to strengthen his religious principles, and be exposed to comparatively few temptations to evil. Which of these situations does the spiritual man choose for his son? Does he sell the soul of his child for gain? Does he place his son where he is most likely to get on in the world, regardless of what becomes of his undying spirit? Or does he regard eternity more than time? The spiritual more than the temporal interests of Iris son? I answer, in the words of John Wesley, He would rather his son were a poor man on earth and a saint in Heaven, than a rich man on earth and a lost spirit in hell! Does he choose a

partner for life? He does not pay supreme nor even principal regard to beauty, rank, fortune, or fashionable accomplishments. No; he regards himself as a servant of God, and a candidate for eternity; and he selects for a partner one whose piety, prudence, and amiable dispositions are likely to assist him in serving God, and making his calling and election sure. Whatever be the case in which he has to choose and to decide, he regulates his choice, and controuls his decision, by spiritual and eternal, and not by carnal, temporal considerations.

Reader, how is it with thee in this respect? In the innumerable cases which are continually occurring, in which thou hast to choose between this course and that, by what principles and motives dost thou govern thy choice?

Is it the body or the soul, time or eternity, heaven or earth, duty or interest, God or man, that is the object of thy supreme regard?, Examine thyself on this point, and remember that the examination will be renewed before another tribunal at another day. If thou art spiritually-minded the body habitually yields to the soul, time to eternity, earth to heaven, interest to duty, man to God. But if thy conduct be the reverse of this; if thou art accustomed to sacrifice the well-being of thy soul to the gratification of thy bodily propensities; if eternity is forgotten or kept out of sight, in thy extreme anxiety for temporal good; if earthly considerations move thee more than heavenly: if false, limited notions, of interest can prevail on thee to neglect thy duty; if to please the creature thou canst sin against thy great Creator, thou hast reason to tremble for thy sad condition; whoever may be spiritually-minded, thou canst lay no claim to such a character; thy character is imprinted on thy brow, and unless it be changed in time, it will cover thee with disgrace, and involve thee in ruin throughout eternity. "For to be carnally-minded is death, but to be spiritually-minded is life and peace.'

(To be continued.)

THE WORDS OF THE WISE."

66

A Christian on his way to church, one Sabbath morning, was met by an infidel, who asked him where he was going to. "I am going to church, to worship God," was the answer. "O, and you are one of those that believe there is a God are you? Pray what is your God like? Is he a great God, or a little God?" "He is so great that the heaven of heavens cannot contain him," said the Christian, "and (laying his hand upon his breast) so little as to dwell here, within my heart." A word spoken in season, how good it is.

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors]

BRAD.-" I will take them after preaching, Sir."

WES." Take them now Joseph." B.-"I wish to hear you preach, Sir; and there will be sufficient time for the post after service."

W.-"I insist upon you going now, Joseph."

B." I will not go at present."
W.-"You won't?"
B.-" No, Sir."
W.-"Then, you and I

part."

B.-" Very good, Sir."

The good men slept over it. Both were early risers. At four o'clock the next morning, the refractory "helper" was accosted with "Joseph have you considered what I said that we must part?" B.-"Yes, Sir."

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

"WELL, Hodge," said a smart-looking Londoner to a plain cottager, who was on his way home from church, " so you are trudging home, after taking the benefit of the fine balmy breezes in the country must this morning." "Sir," said the man, "I have not been strolling about this sacred morning, wasting my time in idleness and neglect of religion; but I have been at the house of God, to worship him, and to hear his preached word." "Ah! what then, you are one of those simpletons, that, in these country places, are weak enough to believe the Bible. Believe me, my man, that book is nothing but a pack of nonsense; and none but weak and ignorant people now think it true." "Well, Mr. Stranger, but do you know, weak and ignorant as we country people are, we like to have two strings to our bow." "Two strings to your bow! what do you mean by that?" "Why, sir, I mean, that to believe the Bible, and act up to it, is like having two strings to one's bow; for, if it is not true, I shall be the better man for living according to it; and so it will be for my good in this life-that is one string and if it should be true, it

W.-" And must we part?"
B.-" Please yourself, Sir."
W.-Will you ask my pardon,

Joseph ?"

B-"No, Sir."
W.-" You won't?"
B.-" No, Sir."

W. "Then I will ask yours, Jo

seph."

Poor Joseph was instantly melted; smitten as the rock by the hand of Moses, and forth gushed the tears, like water from the rock. He had a tender soul. He would have sacrificed health, and even life, for Mr. Wesley, but he would never bend, except in meekness.

« PreviousContinue »