structions to the reception of truth, but the truth itself he must not adulterate. In clearing away the impediment, he must secure the principle.

If his own reputation be attacked, he must defend it by every lawful means; nor will he sacrifice the valuable possession to any demand but that of conscience, to any call but the imperative call of duty. If his good name be put in competition with any other earthly good, he will preserve it, however dear may be the good he relinquishes; but, if the competition lie between his reputation and his conscience, he has no hesitation in making the sacrifice, costly as it is. A feeling man struggles for his fame as for his life, but if he be a Christian, he parts with it, for he knows that it is not the life of his soul.

For the same reason that we must not be over anxious to vindicate our fame, we must be careful to preserve it from any unjust imputation. The great Apostle of the Gentiles has set us an admirable example in both respects, and we should never consider him in one point of view, without recollecting his conduct in the other. So profound is his humility that he declares himself ❝ less than the least of all saints." Not content with this comparative depreciation, he proclaims his actual corruptions. "In me, that is, in my flesh, there is no good thing." this deep self-abasement did not prevent him

Yet

from asserting his own calumniated worth, from declaring that he was not behind the very "chiefest of the Apostles"-again-"As the truth of Christ is in me, no man shall stop me of this boasting," &c. He then enumerates with a manly dignity, tempered with a noble modesty, a multitude of instances of his unparalleled suf ferings and his unrivalled zeal.

Where only his own personal feelings were in question, how self-abasing! how self-annihilating! but where the unjust imputation involved the honour of Christ and the credit of religion "what carefulness it wrought in him, yea what clearing of himself; yea what indignation, yea what vehenrent desire, yea what zeal !"

While we rejoice in the promises annexed to the beatitudes, we should be cautious of applying to ourselves promises which do not belong to us, particularly that which is attached to the last beatitude. When our fame is attacked, let us carefully inquire, if we are " suffering for righteousness' sake," or for our own faults; let us examine, whether we may not deserve the censures we have incurred? Even if we are suffer ing in the cause of God, may we not have brought discredit on that holy cause by our imprudence, our obstinacy, our vanity; by our zeal without knowledge, and our earnestness without temper? G*

Let us inquire, whether our revilers have not some foundation for the charge? Whether we have not sought our own glory more than that of God? Whether we are not more disappointed at missing that revenue of praise, which we thought our good works were entitled to bring us in, than at the wound religion may have sustained? Whether though our views were right on the whole, their purity was not much alloyed by human mixtures? Whether, neglecting to count the cost, we did not expect unmix. ed approbation, uninterrupted success, and a full tide of prosperity and applause, totally forgetting the reproaches received, and the obloquy sustained by "the Man of Sorrows."

If we can, on an impartial review, acquit ourselves as to the general purity of our motives, the general integrity of our conduct, the unfeigned sincerity of our endeavours, then we may indeed, though with deep humility, take to ourselves the comfort of this divine beatitude. When we really find, that men only speak evil of us for his sake in whose cause we have laboured, however that labour may have been mingled with imperfection, we may indeed " rejoice and be exceeding glad." Submission may be eleva ted into gratitude, and forgiveness into love.

CHAP. XV.

ON THE PROPRIETY OF INTRODUCING RELIGION IN GENERAL CONVERSATION.

MAY we be allowed to introduce here an opin ion warmly maintained in the world, and which indeed strikes at the root of all rules for the management of religious debate recommended in the preceding chapter? It is, that the subject of religion ought on no occasion to be introduced in mixed company; that the diversity of sentiment upon it is so great, and so nearly connected with the tenderest feelings of our minds, as to be liable to lead to heat and contention : Finally, that it is too grave and solemn a topic to be mixed in the miscellaneous circle of social discourse, much less in the festive effusions of convivial cheerfulness. Now, in answer to these allegations, we must at least insist, that should religion, on other grounds, be found entitled to social discussion, the last observation, if true, would prove convivial cheerfulness incompatible

with the spirit and practice of religion, rather than religion inadmissible into cheerful parties. And it is certainly a retort difficult of evasion, that where to introduce religion herself is to endanger her honour, there she rather suffers in reputation by the presence of her friend. The man endeared by conviction to his religion will never bear to be long, much less to be statedly separated from the object of his affections and he whose zeal once determined him "to know nothing" amongst his associates, "but Jesus Christ, and him crucified," never could have dreamt of a latitude of interpretation which would admit a Christian into scenes where every thing but Jesus Christ and him crucified, might be recognized with credit.

These principles appear so plain and incontrovertible, that the question seems rather to call for a different statement: viz. why religion should not be deemed admissible into every social meeting and friendly circle in which a Christian himself would chuse to be found? That it is too weighty and important a subject for discussion, is an argument, which, standing alone, assumes the gross absurdity that either men never talk of that which most nearly interests them, or that when they do, they talk improperly. They will not, it is true, introduce a private concern, how