spicuous in his system, according to its intrinsic consequence. But no sooner does he issue forth into the field of controversy, than this equitable balance is in imminent danger of being destroyed. The particular doctrine that is attacked instantly becomes a favorite, as an afflicted child is usually preferred to all the rest. The very habit of defending a point invests it with unwonted importance; so that it is scarcely possible to open a polemical work, without being informed that the subject under consideration, whatever it may be, is about the most momentous that was ever discussed. The writer was possibly at one time as indifferent to it as his reader; but the constant act of defending his position has impressed it upon his mind with a power not its own. He has every moment perceived some new argument in its favor; and has been equally sagacious in discovering the ill effects of the system of his adversary. Thus has he proceeded, till his favorite tenet has eclipsed all others. Symmetry, which is as indispensable in a system of opinions as in an architectural design, is entirely forgotten. His descriptions become harsh and overcharged; so that what was perhaps substantially true and laudable, is rendered false and dangerous by his distortion and extravagance.

To this natural effect of controversy may be ascribed many of the unguarded statements even of pious and learned men upon subjects connected with religion. Perceiving, perhaps, that some particular scriptural doctrine was much neglected, they have felt it necessary to show its importance; but while they have eagerly pursued this laudable end, they have forgotten the equal importance of all the rest. In arguing against a common error, strong language must sometimes be employed; nor can we wonder if this language is sometimes stronger than the occasion requires. Were we to judge of the relative importance of the thirty-nine articles of religion by the controversies which have ex

isted upon the subjects therein discussed, we might imagine each one in succession to have been the most important; for controversy disturbs the natural order of distances and magnitudes. The individual truth, the insulated error under consideration, occupies the whole sphere of vision, so that other truths and other errors of equal or superior importance are in danger of being overlooked.

These effects of controversy, though highly injurious, may unconsciously consist with the most innocent intentions; but there are others equally common which always involve actual guilt. It is impossible to survey the annals of literary or theological warfare without discovering, even amongst the best of men, something too much resembling obstinacy or prevarication. A controversialist may begin moderately, but he seldom ends

so.

Heated with opposition, he tries to remove himself as far as possible from the opinions of his opponents. He finds it necessary to go to greater lengths than he intended, in order to defend what is undoubtedly true. "If I am obliged to give up this, I must give up more." So powerful is this cause of error that an obstinate man would almost refuse his assent to the postulates of Euclid, if he suspected that they might be made use of to refute his favorite opinions.

The last, but not the least prolific source, that needs be mentioned, is pride. This is closely connected with several of the foregoing causes, and without it they could not always exist. But independently also, and distinctly, it has a most extensive and energetic effect. An ambitious man who cannot attract attention by superiority of talent, will often endeavor to do it by singularity of opinion; for he who is unable to surpass others in illustrating known truth, may easily become conspicuous by some novelty in error. Hence most of the wild theories, paradoxes, and speculations, that infest the world. It is scarcely possible to find a very eccentric book in which there are not evident indications

of pride. The unusual opinions, for example, of Bishop Warburton are remarkably characterized by this quality; indeed, so much so, that it may be fairly suspected that pride was often the reason why they were unusual. A still more forcible illustration may be derived from almost every work published by our modernpseudo-philosophers. Nearly the same principle that inclines one person to comply with every modish sentiment of the times in which he lives, induces another to resort to the contrary extreme of opposing whatever he finds established by public opinion. The pestilent philosophers of modern days have acquired much celebrity by this easy practice. They have railed against the most important institutions, without offering any thing of equal value in their place; as the ambitious incendiary, who could not perhaps build a hovel, hoped to become illustrious by consuming the temple of Diana.

Since, however, all proud men cannot invent new systems of opinion, many are content with adopting the absurdities of others; being perhaps aware that some sentiments are so eccentric and unlikely to be generally admitted, that the imitator becomes almost as conspicuous as the original artist. There are persons whose pride hourly leads them into erroneous opinions, by prompting them to differ from every body else; so that where others are right they must necessarily be wrong. Their politics, their religion, their literature, must possess something new and remarkable. They court opposition for its own sake. To judge of their opinion upon any given subject, it is necessary to inquire what is not the opinion of ordinary men. They are afraid of being considered tame characters. They are too proud to profess the same creed with their pious neighbors. No sentiment can recommend itself to their judgment that does not also gratify their love of notoriety.

To enumerate other sources of error would increase

the number of these remarks beyond the intended design. Prejudice, education, love of pleasure, the passions, and various other causes, might, however, be mentioned, as not less extensive and powerful than those already detailed. But the object of these hints was chiefly to suggest a few practical ideas, in order to assist in answering the very important question, "How came I to possess such or such an opinion?" If conscience reply, that the grounds on which it rests are improper or insufficient, the line of conduct that ought to be pursued is too obvious to need recital.

14

FALSE MODESTY IN RELIGION.

"I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ."

Ir is by no means a subject for astonishment that men should have been ashamed of Christianity at its first promulgation. The Messiah had just suffered crucifixion, which was a mode of punishment confined to malefactors and the lowest classes of society: his followers were persecuted from city to city with the most implacable and cruel bigotry, and every thing was practised to bring the gospel into disrepute. It cannot therefore excite surprise, that persons in general, and more especially the proud, the rich, and the learned, were ashamed of the new dispensation. But in the present day, when Christianity has long been patronized as the religious code of the most enlightened quarter of the globe, when its evidences are acknowledged to be irresistible, and its blessings of infinite value, it is surely astonishing that men should be ashamed of so inestimable a blessing. Yet the more we inquire into the subject, the more we shall discover this to be the fact.

To a man who believes Christianity to be a system generally necessary to salvation," it is distressing to reflect over how small a portion of the world it is yet diffused. Amidst the vast tracts of Africa, Asia, and America, scarcely is it known, except in the different European colonies. But from these desolate scenes let us turn our eyes to those brighter spots on which the light of revelation has shone. Christendom may present a more animating sight. Yet, alas! though the spiritual sun is indeed visible over the whole of this extensive tract, he too often appears "shorn of his beams," and enveloped in the clouds and darkness