has blinded his eyes.

His understanding is darkened. The God of this world He is not only in the dark, but abfolute darkness itfelf. In matters of real religion, he is fo ignorant, as not to know the fhadow from the substance, or the form from the power of godlinefs. He puts things for each other that effentially differ. Light for darkness; bitter for fweet; good for evil, and evil for good. His memory is fo injured that it forgets what it should retain, and retains what it fhould forget. It recollects the injuries of men, and forgets the mercies of God. The remembrance of things temporal is ever prefent; while that of God and Chrift, death and eternity, heaven and hell, only occurs fometimes. His reason, that noble faculty, which exalts him fo far above the brute creation, and does great things for him in commerce, fcience, and politics, fails him in his refearches to discover the origin of mifery; as alfo, the nature of true felicity, with the way to its attainment. This humbling truth is clearly attefted, by clouds of learned philofophers, though without defign, in their multiplied and contradictory opini ons concerning the chief good. Such is become the folly of what proud men call reafon, that as Dr. Young fays, "She nurfes folly's children as her own, fond of the fouleft." She has been known to exert her utmost powers in direct oppofition to divine revelation. She has lifted up her voice, even in behalf of vice and immorality. As to the will, alas! it is not lefs refractory and rebellious against God, than the understanding is dark, and the memory treacherous with refpect to the things of God. The affections are in a state equally difordered. The natural man is a lover of pleasure and the world more than of God. He longs for what he Thould loathe, and delights in what he should deteft. He fears men, who can at most only kill the body; but he fears not God, who is able to deftroy both body and foul in hell. His conscience, the best of all his fallen powers, is fadly poluted. Suppofe it to be faithful to the light it has, yet it is often fo blind as to fee very little; and of course so deaf as to hear little, fo dumb as to fay little. In fome it is feared as with a hot iron. Whenever it is alarmed in any, it feeks to be appeafed by improper applications.

But we proceed to obferve, that while the fallen foul of man is void of all good, it is full of all evil. It is dreadfully fwollen with pride, vanity, and ambition. It is fadly infected with covetoufnefs, jealousy, and impatience. It is replete with envy, hatred, and malice. It is the horrid abode of wrath and floth. Revenge, diftraction, and defpair refide therein. Surely it is a cage of unclean birds-a VOL. II. 3 A

neft of vipers! Who can wonder that man, when favingly convinced, is a terror to himfelf? The whole man is corrupt and needs cleanfing, body, foul, and fpirit. As the corruption is general in the whole race, fo, if grace prevent not, at one time or another it breaks out in every man. As is the heart fuch will be the life; if only we make a little allowance for the workings of hypocrify. By nature the neck is ftiffened with pride. The eye is wanton. The ear opens to filthy converfation, in which the tongue readily joins. The palate, throat, and ftomach are feats of dange rous indulgence. The hand plucks the forbidden fruit, and the feet run the broad way. That fuch is the finful ftate of

man, as expreffed or implied in every paffage of holy writ. The fame is obvious in the ways of all who follow the defires and imaginations of their own hearts. It is alfo confeffed and bewailed by all who are in the way to heaven.

He who is thus finful must be miserable. Sin brought death and every woe into the world. It is a vale of tears, because the theatre of wickedness. In our forrows we read our fins. In the natural world the religious philofopher reads the evidence of its Author's difpleasure with its finful inhabitants. Man gets his bread by the fweat of his brow, because of fin. We read the fall of man in the fpontaneous produce of the earth; in the rigours of winter, and in the fuffocating heats of fummer; in terrible ftorms, exceffive rains, ruinous inundations. The man muft be blind who beholds it not in the noifome prifon, and the frightful gibbet. How visible is it in hoftile fleets and armies, with all their inftruments of death? Whatever is found, whether in the animal or vegetable parts of the creation, hurtful to man, may be brought in evidence of his fall from God. Workhoufes, hofpitals, and infirmaries, with all the difeafes incident to the body, and death at the close ; "all, all atteft the folemn truth." The learned profeffions, whether their object be to fecure our rights, reftore our health, or fave our fouls, prove our fall; in as much as they are only rendered neceffary by man's iniquity.

The miferies of this life, however varied, great and heavy, end with life. Death terminates all fublunary things; but the finite creature has finned against the infinite Creator, and against infinite obligations; and, as fuch, is become obnoxious to infinite punishment. His fufferings cannot atone for his fins, and therefore he is liable to fuffer for ever. Having loft the image of God we are expofed to the curse of his law. We are under the power of Satan, and expofed to thofe vials of endlefs wrath prepared for the Devil and his

followers. How dreadful the punishment which feparates, between men and the most distant hopes of happiness! The punishment of pain and lofs, which even the terms hell, unquenchable fire, and blackness of darkness for ever, &c. fail fully to exprefs? In this point of view, what a poor, diseas ed, deftitute, enflaved pitiful object is fallen man! If in the midft of it he fancies himself well, ftill greater is the caufe of lamentation. Who that is raised by the Redeemer from the ruins of the fall, would not fly to alarm his fellow men of their dreadful danger, and point them to the fafe and tried remedy. Such is the grand object of the Miffionary Society. Hail! holy brethren, in the face of every difcouragement go forward. The falvation of one foul will more than recompense all your labours.

S. B.

SIR,

MISSIONARY EXTRACT.

To the Editor of the Evangelical Magazine.

I WAS much truck with reading, very lately, Bishop Hurd's fermon before the Society for the propagation of the Gospel in foreign parts. Though it was preached many years before the Miffionary Society was established, or even thought of: yet it feems fo appropriate, especially as coming from a dignitary of the establishment, that I hope, the following quotation therefrom may be of ufe.

"The difficulties, the dangers, the diftreffes of all forts which must be encountered by the Chriftian Miffionary, require a more than ordinary degree of virtue, and will be only fuftained by him, whom a fervent love of Christ and the quickening graces of his Spirit have anointed, as it were, and confecrated to this arduous fervice. Then it is, that we have seen the faithful minister of the word go forth with the zeal of an apostle, and the conftancy of a martyr. We have feen him forfake eafe and affluence; a competency, at leaft, and the ordinary comforts of fociety; and with the Gofpel in his hand, and his Saviour in his heart, make his way through burning deferts and the howling wilderness, braving the rage of climates, and all the inconveniences of long and perilous voyages; fubmitting to the drudgery of

learning barbarous languages, and to the difguft of comply, ing with barbarous manners, watching the dark fufpicions, and expofed to the capricious fury of impotent favages; courting their offenfive fociety, adopting their loathfome customs, and affimilating his very nature, almost, to theirs; in a word, enduring all things, becoming all things, in the patient hope of finding a way to their good opinion, and of fucceeding, finally, in his unwearied endeavours to make the word of life a falvation not unacceptable to them.

"I confefs, when I reflect on all thofe things, I humble myfelf before fuch heroic virtue; or rather I adore the grace of God in Chrift Jefus, which is able to produce fuch examples of it in our degenerate world. O let not the hard heart of infidelity prophane fuch a virtue as this, with the difgraceful name of fanaticism or superstition."

Yours,

P. 9.

A fincere friend to the Miffionary Society, and a member of the Established Church.

Oct. 5, 1799.

J. W.

CHEARFUL RESIGNATION TO THE DIVINE

WILL.

Be still and know that I am God. Ifa. xlvi. 10.

THE

HE defign of God in all his difpenfations, is the happinefs of his people. This confideration fhould not only reconcile them to all they meet with in their earthly pilgrimage, but become a conftant fource of joy. That thofe who are ftrangers to the divine life in their fouls, and who are without God in the world fhould be fretful and difcontented, when their hopes and fchemes are fruftrated, is not to be wondered at; but that any who have been convinced of the vanity of every object befide God, and have been enabled to make a covenant God in Chrift Jefus their portion, fhould repine at their lot, whatever it may be is both unreasonable and ungrateful, that they have no just grounds for it is certain; yet that such a difpofition prevails is undeniable.

A fmall degree of attention to the converfation and conduct of many who think themselves (and whom we should be ready to think) improperly judged, were they not numbered amongst the difciples of Christ, would fufficiently prove the fact. The difhonour fuch bring upon their profeffion, and the injury they do themfelves, is not small. It would be eafy to point out the unhappy confequences that muft neceffarily follow a difpofition of this kind; but let the dishonour done to God, and the destruction of their own peace, fuffice.

Now, I prefume, in order to chearful refignation to the divine will, there must be, not only barely an acknowledg ment of God's hand in our concerns, but fuch an acknowledgment as arifes from a conviction of his love in all he fuffers to befall us; an acknowledgment which arifes not only from the confideration of his character as a being of infinite perfections, but that these perfections are exercised for our advantage; not only that every circumftance is by the permiffion and direction of Him who cannot act wrong; but that every circumftance is particularly permitted and directed for our advantage. This I conceive to be the foundation of cheerful refignation to the divine will; and this is only realized by true believers in Jefus Chrift; and fo far as this is realized, there will be grateful acknowledgment, and chearful obedience, as the neceffary confequences.

By

By grateful acknowledgment, I mean thankfulness to God for all he with-holds, as well as all he gives; that our fituations, callings and circumftances; and that our poffeffions, duties and fufferings, are just what they are. chearful obedience may be understood, a readiness on all occafions to do and fuffer the divine will, because it is the divine will; and as the former implies cordial approbation of all God requires, fo this delights in the fulfilment of it.

That this is the duty and privilege of the believer is certain: that it is his duty, appears from his dependance on God for all that he receives.

As God is a perfect being, he cannot act amifs: as he is a fovereign, he has a right to difpofe of the affairs of his creatures as he pleafes; as he is infinitely good, he wills, in all things, the happiness of his people here, and their eternal blifs hereafter.

That it is the Chriftian's privilege, follows of course; what is his duty is alfo his privilege; it is his privilege as it is his happiness; and we are fo far only truly happy as we are chearfully refigned to the divine will. As to be given