Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

it is there, or that it is what it seems.

Christians think

not themselves, they think not each other sinless creatures-should they desire to pass their alloy upon the world as pure and proven gold? But they say it is for the honour of religion, not their own, that they are so tenacious of the exposure of their faults. We are glad if it is so-but we would rather have this pious tenaciousness exercised in correcting the evils than in glossing over them, in lamenting than in denying them. So much by the way, in reply to some remarks that have been made to us.

His

-We hear of the beauty of Consistency-we repeat perpetually, because we hear it, that nothing is so beautiful as a consistent character, but what does it mean? The sinners's consistency, alas! is sin-the false heart's consistency is falsehood-the villain's consistency is villainy: but is this beautiful? It is a very common argument in the world, or rather a phrase that supplies the place of one, that it does not signify what religion a man professes, or what faith he holds, provided his conduct be consistent. Consistent with what? errors? His perversions? That alas! it is but too sure to be. The man who believes there is no God, is consistent when he breaks his laws, and sets his asserted power at defiance. The man who believes that there is no eternity, is consistent when he devotes himself to the things of time and sense, and is but the more consistent as he becomes the more sensual. He whose perverted judgment and corrupted taste prefer the pleasures of sin to the peace of holiness, the interests of time to the bliss of eternity, is consistent when he takes the one and leaves the other-is consistent when he commits sin, is consistent when he defends it. The basest character on earth may be a consistent one. There cannot, therefore, be a more dangerous maxim-and I name it the rather as my young friends will hear it frequently repeated by the wise and prudent of the world.

A consistent character must certainly be that, which

[blocks in formation]

having chosen the object of existence, employs the powers of existence to the attainment of that object--and in each particular, having formed a purpose, to do and to be what will promote that purpose. The inconsistency of the greater number of persons arises from their having conscience enough, and moral sense enough, to perceive what their objects ought to be, and to determine their choice for good, while they have neither sense enough, nor virtue enough, to pursue it: and so the means and the end are for ever at variance, and the strangest inconsistencies are the result.

The world in general-I mean the decent and moral part of it, for the out-lawed rioter in mischief we must leave to the full credit of his consistency-confess an end and object of existence which yet they do not pursue. We thus act exactly like a traveller, who wishing to go to Greenwich, should on reading the way-post that directs him thither, turn off to the other hand, and proceed to London of such a traveller we should say that either he could not read, or that he wanted understanding, or that he did not really desire to go to the place he professed to set out for. And so we may say in effect of all the inconsistencies of life and conduct-they arise in ignorance, mis-judgment, or dishonesty.

I will illustrate my meaning by a few examples-not of the most important, perhaps, for it is not in great matters that we make the most mistakes-it is the familiar occurrences of daily life that make up the character and conduct of persons in ordinary life. When symptoms of physical disorder are to be cured, the cause of those symptoms must be discovered and removed: so when descrepancies of conduct and inconsistency of character are to be corrected, the better way is to proceed at once to the source whence they spring-we all know by experience how difficult it is to correct bad habits-perhaps the difficulty would be lessened if, instead of attempting to cure the manifestation of the evil, we were to descend into our hearts, see whence it arises, and

subdue the disposition there. The best method of correcting our own inconsistencies is to become better acquainted with our own hearts, whence all our conduct is derived. If it is the conduct of others we have to do with, whether to judge or to correct, the success of our endeavours and the justness of our judgment mainly depend on our looking beyond the apparent inconsistency to its cause, and ascribing it to its right source. Want of information, or a bad judgment, claim very unequal censure, as well as a very different remedy, from that which is due to dishonesty of purpose.

I know a young person to whom circumstances have given considerable controul in her parents' house-she devotes time and talents to the management and education of her sisters, and says she has nothing so much at heart as their happiness and improvement. To effect this she keeps the house in perpetual contention-she makes their wishes and tastes yield in every thing to hers-she finds fault with every thing they do, complains of every thing that happens to interrupt her purposes, condemns every thing that does not exactly meet her ideas reasonable or unreasonable, nothing must take place in the family that does not exactly suit her convenience, and what does suit her convenience must be done at any rate. One of two things is the case—either she is dishonest in her purpose, and while she seems to devote her time and attention to her family, she really desires nothing but the indulgence of her own self-will, or she wants judgment to perceive that always giving herself the preference, is not the way to make others good or happy; and that the devotion of all her time, talents, and powers, to the annoying, contradicting, and molesting every one about her, is not a very consistent sort of sisterly devotion. If I were not indisposed to say any thing to any body above twenty years of age, I might just drop a hint that there are some devoted wives, and devoted mothers, and devoted mistresses, who do exactly the same thing. Did

this traveller never mean to go to Greenwich? Or, on arriving at the way post, and reading "To London," did she conclude that that would bring her there?

I know another who seems very anxious to be sought and beloved by her companions in society, complains perpetually that nobody cares for her, and every body neglects her, and she receives no attention and no kindness from any one. Meantime, if she sees these people whose inattention displeases her, she goes across the street to avoid meeting them: when she comes into company, she sits in dogged and sullen silence, or only speaks to declare that she hates all company and is never happy but when she is alone, or to say something rude or impertinent to the society in general, or to some one in particular: if any offer of kindness is made her, she refuses it-if any particular attention is paid her, she attributes it to some sinister motive. Now, as I am satisfied from this lady's uneasiness, that she is honest in her wish to be beloved, she must either, like the last traveller, think the way to reach her destination is to turn out of the road, or she must be unable to read, and really believe that L-o-n-d-o-n spells Greenwich-that is, she must think the way to be desired and sought in society is to be very disagreeable, or that d-i-s-l-i-k-e-d really spells beloved; and so with honest ignorance takes the way to it.

A third I could point out, who desires, as I understand from herself, to improve her talents and inform her mind, that when the transient beauty of her person shall have passed, and the zest of exterior amusements shall have passed, she may not be to others as a thing that has lost its value, to herself as one that has expended her possessions. But with ample powers and all means at command, she stands for an hour together at the fire-place, watching the reflection of the lustresshe begins to yawn at nine o'clock, and goes to bed at ten-is up, but not dressed, about the same hour in the morning-takes half an hour to put on her bonnet when

she goes out, and another half hour when she comes home to take it off again, regretting, the while, that she has not time to improve herself. When any one about her is conversing upon serious and rational topicks, she throws herself on the sofa and shuts her eyes, because she does not understand such things, forgetful that listening she might learn. When asked her opinion, or in any way addressed upon any subject, she says she is not used to converse of such things, she is not used to express herself, she wishes she were more clever; forgetting again it is difficult to be used to a thing one is determined not to attempt. She chooses her companions among those who are young, frivolous, and ignorant, because with those who are informed and sensible she feels herself inferior and embarrassed. In her studies and pursuits, especially her reading, she does the same-she takes the lightest, the most frivolous, and the worst, because she cannot understand more solid works: she wishes she could understand them, then she should be very fond of reading. Now really I am at a loss how to class the inconsistency of this young lady-I am inclined to think she is not honest in her purpose-I believe that in her heart she likes London better than Greenwich-would rather be idle and frivolous, than a sensible, rational, and cultivated

woman.

To ascend to higher matters, which yet affect our conduct in the smallest, there is one great source of inconsistency in the world, of which the features are too broad to be mistaken, of which the compass is wide enough to include every age, and character, and capability of human kind-the inconsistency of those who call themselves christians and are not-who are travelling thither where they do not desire to arrive-who are going, as they say, to immortality, but neither know the road nor ask it, nor will listen if you tell them: nay, there is not an obstacle that may oppose their progress, but they put it on their paths-there is not a temptation

« AnteriorContinuar »