which best proves the strength and the purity of principle. If we look to Christ, we shall see that want of success did not damp his zeal. Though all the day long he stretch ed forth his hands to a disobedient and gainsaying people, we read of no intermission of his labours. He persevered in the same course to the latest hour of his life. At the moment of his apprehension, he heals the wound of one of the persons who had come to seize him. Even the pangs of death could not lessen his love. He pardons a malefactor while he himself is hanging on the cross.

We often find the benevolence of men restrained within very narrow limits. They will readily give a small sum out of their abundance; they will unite for a charitable purpose; but they will spare very little time, which is often worth more than money, or make few sacrifices of convenience or comfort to attain it. But when we look to the character of our blessed Lord, we are astonished to see how much activity, and how many sacrifices, his benevolence led to. Every moment of his time was employed in doing good; he shrunk from no degree of self-denial; he cheerfully met the severest sufferings for the benefit of others. He patiently bore the contradiction of sinners. He prayed for his murderers. He was made a curse for us that we might he delivered from the curse. How low a kind of charity is that, then, which confines itself merely to giving a small part of our abundance to the poor and needy, compared with our taking pains and trouble, and exposing ourselves to reproach or sufferings on their account!

Among men, there is often seen a harshness of manner, even in giving relief. Our Lord's example may be of use to us in this respect, as shewing the spirit in which benefits should be conferred. The mildness and gentleness of his manner were truly admirable. He assumed no air of superiority when he bestowed the greatest blessings." Son, be of

good cheer; thy sins be forgiven thee." He, in general, exerted his healing power the moment he was applied to; and as if nothing extraordinary had happened, he went on to perform some other act of kindness. Observe also the mildness of his reproofs: when, of the lepers cleansed by him, only one returned to give thanks, he merely asks, "Were there not ten cleansed, but where are the nine?" And when his disciples had been contending for rank, he reproves them by taking a little child, and commending before them his simplicity and indifference to worldly honours.

Let us also consider, with a view to the regulation of our own conduct, the variety of good which our Saviour performed. He healed the sick; he gave sight to the blind; he comforted the mourner; he pardoned the sinner. But though he was ever ready to relieve the bodily wants of mankind, we may easily perceive that their spiritual wants were those to which he chiefly attended. Nay, the good which he did to the body was intended to promote the good of the soul. If he healed the body, it was with a view to save the soul. This was his chief object; to restore men to the favour of God, to deliver them from the power of Satan, to turn them from darkness to light, to make them happy in another world.

Let us then learn from the blessed Jesus what ought ever to be our chief object, in every plan of benevolence. And while we are anxious to add to the temporal comforts of our fellow-creatures, let us, in the name of our Lord and Master, endeavour also to add that spiritual knowledge which may be the means of affording them abiding peace here, and eternal happiness hereafter. They will be disposed to receive kindly the exhortations of those who minister to their bodily wants. Let us then unite, as much as possible, instruction with our charity, and in the name of the Lord Jesus, and after his example, seek

to confer blessings, which the wealth of both Indies would be cheaply given to purchase.

It is a common saying, that we ought only to relieve the deserving. But this rule must be admitted with many exceptions. The love of Christ was shewn to all. I do not say that our bounty should be repeatedly bestowed on those who will abuse it; but great distress, though combined with much unworthiness, has a claim on our charity, and we must not suffer our hearts to be hardened by the ungrateful returns we may often meet with from those whom we have benefited. The kindness and love of our blessed Redeemer embraced a world which was corrupt and unworthy; a world in which he was despised, reviled, and, at last, put to a shameful death. The broad mantle of Charity will cover a multitude of sins.

The benevolence of our Saviour shewed no appearances of partiality. The limits of his bounty, like those of the light and heat of the sun, were as wide as the universe. This was the more remarkable, as at that time the most narrow prejudices prevailed. The Jew would not shew even common compassion to the Samaritan. But our Lord's benevolence broke through all such narrow lines of distinction. And our charity, if it be like his, will know no difference of sect, party, colour, rank: distress alone will form a claim to our pity. Of our blessed Lord's bounties, all classes of men partook; the Jew, the Samaritan, and the Gentile, the rich and the poor, the learned and the ignorant, the bond and the free, the barbarian and the Greek, the old and the young. He invited even little children to come to him, that he might lay his hands on them and bless them.

There is one class of persons in the world, indeed, whose lot is peculiarly hard; the poor. To them, therefore, was the attention of Christ especially turned. That they might

see they were not overlooked, he, as it were, consecrated poverty, and raised it to an honourable rank, by taking it on himself. He fixed his chief residence among them. He became the son of a carpenter. He chose his apostles from among poor fishermen. He made it a distin guishing mark of his kingdom that to the poor the Gospel was preached. After our Lord's example, then, let the poor have a peculiar interest in our benevolence. It is but little, perhaps, we can do in relieving their bodily wants; but if, by soothing counsel, by kind advice, by condescending attentions, by well-timed assistance, we can make them less sensible of the hardships of their state, we do much. But above all, let us be anxious to teach them that poverty is but a temporary evil; that the time will soon come when all earthly distinctions will cease, and when our happiness will depend on the use we have made here of the talents, be they great or small, which God has put into our hands.

Let us then study attentively the character of that great Pattern which is set before us. Let our kindness to others be formed on his model, and directed by his precepts and example. Thus may we hope for the blessing of God to attend us; for we shall be indeed the children of our heavenly Father, who sendeth his sun to shine on all : and we shall one day hear those encouraging words addressed to us, "Come ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world." Amen.

To the Editor of the Christian Observer, THE following notes contain the substance of a sermon, delivered by the late Mr. Patrick, March 16, 1800, at the chapel in Dartmouth Row, Blackheath. They were taken solely with a view to the writer's private satisfaction; but if you think them deserving of a place in your valua

ble miscellany, they may possibly prove acceptable to some of your readers. Yours,

A CONSTANT reader.

Luke xi. 24—26. « When the un❤ clean spirit is gone out of a man, he walketh through dry places, seek ing rest; and finding none, he saith, I will return unto my house whence I came out. And when he cometh, he findeth it swept and garnished. Then goeth he and taketh to him seven other spirits more wicked than himself, and they enter in and dwell there, and the last state of that man is worse than the first."

The immediate occasion of this parable was the blasphemy and perverse opposition of the Jews; and it contained a terrible warning to them, that if the present grace and special invitation of God failed of its due effect, their last state would be indeed worse than their first. Many were, without doubt, in part affected and awakened by our Saviour's miracles and preaching, as they had before been, by the appearance and call of the Baptist to prepare for the kingdom of God: in both cases, if they brought not forth fruits meet for repentance, they were nigh to the awful sentence of being cut down as withered trees to be cast into the fire.

I shall beg leave to accommodate the subject, however, to our present edification, and without presuming to assert that my explication of what is meant by the unclean spirit, is the proper and primary sense of the words, I shall now consider it as denoting evil principles and habits; and that they are thus personified, the more strongly to impress upon our minds their power and existence. Some awakening providence or extraordinary call may, for a time, so far overpower these, that they may be said to be gone out of a man: this is a crisis that demands peculiar fear, diligence, and prayer, for now the man walketh through dry places; his former amusements and enjoyments are em

bittered and suspended; penitence and concern, sorrow for the past and fears for the future, occupy his mind. Conscience urges to duty, but the path is rugged. As a man accustomed to ease, whose feet feel every roughness, and are wounded by every stone, he still goes forward, though slowly; he had armed himself with confident resolves, but these resolves owed their strength to the absence of temptation and the force of present impressions. We naturally think we shall continue to feel in future as we feel in the present instance. We do not consider, that man is a complex being: he not only contemplates an object by means of his intellect, but his hopes and fears, his joys and sorrows, produce impressions on his bodily frame; this latter is continually undergoing alterations, which re-act upon the mind: the animal spirits are in a state of Aluctuation, and as the returning wave effaces the traces formed by the preceding one in the sand, so the feelings of to-day are displaced by those of the morrow. Our penitent was not prepared for this natural change; he imagined his first fervours would be abiding, and therefore did not guard against the return of solicitation from evil habits and appetites. Added to the privation of animal pleasures, and the new and uneasy restraints of self-denial, probably his former companions assail him with contempt or entreaty" he seeketh rest, and finding none," the thoughts of his former state obtrude themselves on his mind. As a man travelling in a wilderness, in a cold night and dreary road, remembers the ease and enjoyments of his home, which appear from the contrast more attractive than ever, so he recollects with regret the sensual delights he has quitted; regret rekindles desire; desire prompts him to return to them: but conscience interposes; he stops, he pauses. His resolutions, at length, give way. He fondly thinks some other season may be more favourable to his "he progress; he says,

tions, presbyterian, baptist, and independent, are infested by heretics of this description; and that the heresy exists among the quakers, and has also invaded both the classmen and bandsmen of the methodists. In our own excellent church, the nondoing party is very numerous; and it has been whispered, that some of the bishops themselves lean a little towards this heresy. Many of them, it is thought, are too tolerant of it in their clergy, and some even of those prelates who no longer endure a non-resident, allow many a resident to be a non-doer.

But, Sir, it is not my intention, on the present occasion, to speak only in generals. There is a remarkable degree of self-deception among the sect against whom I write; and I suspect that one reason of their continuing to abound so much in this country, in spite of my former effort to expose them, may have been the want of sufficient particularity in my mode of addressing them.

I propose to limit my present paper to the case of a few of those who least suspect that they are of the sect in question.

First, then, persons of a naturally forward and active spirit are little disposed to imagine that they are non-doers, and yet may be members of this sect; for a man may be diligent in a bad cause, or he may be zealous for an inferior object, and may counteract, by this zeal, the labours of those who are pursuing a much higher good. A man, though diligent, may be worse than idle, in consequence of the prejudices which he entertains, and the errors into which he falls. I will venture to affirm, that we even may be much occupied in works of charity, and yet be non-doers. It may be useful to give an illustration of this point.

I am accustomed to attend (let it be supposed) on the concerns of numerous charities in this metropolis, and have begun to think my self the soul of every new scheme CHRIST. OBSERV. No. 114.

of benevolence. I draw up the rules for the projected establishment, take the chair, and harangue the audience. Some simple persons wonder how I can find time for so many good works, for I am the father (let it also be imagined) of a numerous family, and I follow a profession which it requires much diligence to exercise with fidelity to my employers, and with merited success. The truth is, that I am not very fond of that labour which is necessary in the legitimate pursuit of my occupation; that I love to live in public; that I am conscious of a certain gift of talking; and, in short, that I am very vain and superficial in every respect. Beneficence, or rather a reputation for it, is my most easy path to wealth and honour. As a professional man, I am singularly incompetent in the eye of those who are the best judges of the question; but I am able to save appearances, because the imagined philanthrophy of my character has recommended me to a few worthy persons, who are my dupes. In the very exercise of my seeming beneficence, I perhaps, on the whole, do rather more harm than good; for I offend many well-disposed persons by my presumption when I am at a public meeting, and cause men of business to leave the room by the length to which I protract the debate. By assuming the dictatorship of many a promising institution, I not unfrequently prejudice the cause of which I think that I am the support. Moreover, I finish nothing; I am ever in quest of some new amusement, some fresh means of advancing myself into notice, some still more agreeable object of pursuit. My children, in the mean time, are ill educated; my wife seldom sees me; a thousand little ordinary duties of life are neglected. I am never at home. I know the interior neither of my family nor of my own heart. In short, I am a hollow character; a deceiver of others, and a self-de

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