The Young Man Possessing a Defective Amiability

“Then Jesus beholding hitn loved hinti.” — Mark x. 21,

The narrative of which this forms a part, is thus gfycn. And when he was gone forth into the way, there came om runnings and kneeled to him and asked him Good what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life? And Jesuit said unto him Why callest thou me good? There is non good but one, that is God. Thou knowest the commandments, Do not commit adultery, Do not kill, Do not steal, Do not hear false witness. Defraud not, Honor thy father and mother. And he answered and said unto him Blaster, all these have 1 observed from my youth. Then Jesus beholding him loved him, and said unto him. One thing thou lackest; go thy way, sell whatsoever thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shall have treasure in heaven; and come, take up the cross and follow me. And he was sad at that saying, and went away grieved; for he had great possessions.

The character of Christ as delineated by the pen of the evangelists, is one of the brightest glories of revelation, and one of the manj internal evidences of its divine origin. Even the infidel Rousseau confessed, that if the Gospel were a fable, he that invented the character of the Saviour, must himself be greater than the hero of his tale. What an union, without confusion, of the human and the divine — what an exhibition of the awful and the amiable, of the stern and the tender: at one time denouncing with terrific vengeance the crimes of the Jews: at another, weeping over the approaching fulfilment of his own predictions: now casting ouu demons from the possessed, then, taking little children in his arms; and just after, looking with deep and tender interest on a youth of attractive but defective amiableness. Young men, study this sublime, beautiful and superhuman character, and say if both this, and the book which contains it, must not be of God. Could such a pattern of matchless truth, purity, and benevolence, be the ofispring of delusion, falsehood, and depravity, which it must have been, if it be the production of imposture.’’ To what page of uninspired history can infidelity direct you for anything which even remotely resembles it in greatness, goodness, and unearthliness y

We now advert to a single incident in the life of Christ — one of great instructiveness and interest to you. By consulting the chapter from whence the text is taken, you will find that a youth of rank, fortune, and office, came to Jesus with deep solicitude to know what he must do to obtain jternal life. The whole narrative shows that he was a moral and amiable young man, and also concerned about religion, but depending upon the merits of his own good doings for acceptance with God; and at the same time loving his wealth far more than was consistent with his high pretensions of love to his neighbor, and concern about eternity. Believing that Christ was a teacher sent from God, he wished to know from him whether there was anything more which he could do to strengthen the basis of hi« hopes, and to con-A DEFECTIVE AMIABILITF. 9»

firm his assurance of salvation. It is important to remark and to recollect, that in replying to him our Lord deals with him on his own grounds. Christ neither disclaimed, in what he said, his own divinity, nor preached to him the doctrine of justification by works; but merely asked him how with his views of the person he then spoke to, he could address him, and flatter him with a title which in its full meaning belonged only to God. So also in telling him that if he kept the commandments with absolute and unsinning perfection from the beginning to the end of life, he would on the ground of his own obedience be justified — his divine teacher did not mean to say that such a thing as unsinning obedience would be found in him or any one else; but that if it really could be found, it would justify the man who had it. Our Lord soon showed to him, by the test he applied to his judgment and conscience, that he was not so holy as he thought he was; for upon being commanded to go and sell his possessions and give to his neighbors, which as he regarded Christ as a divine teacher sent from God, he ought to have done — he went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions.’’^ Thus proving that with all his professions of having kept the law, he loved his money more than he loved God, or his neighbor, and that the world was even then his idol. Now we are not to suppose from this injunction of our Lord, that no one can bo a Christian who does not dispose of the whole of his property in alms-deeds. Christ laid down a general principle, that supreme love of the world and earnestness after salvation are incompatible with each other; and gave it such a special application and extent in this case as its peculiarity required.

Still, we are told that,” when Jesus looked upon him he loved him.’’’’ Love is a word of wide and comprehensive meaning; in some places signifying approval of, and complacency in, character; in others, meaning nothing more than a general interest and good will. There are sometimes appearances in the character and conduct of those with whom we have to do, that deeply interest us; yet all the while, there is much that we must condemn. This was the case before us. The humanity of Christ partook of the sinless instincts and properties of our own. His bosom was susceptible of the emotions of friendship, and of all that is honorable and graceful in our nature. On this occasion there was something in the circumstances, character, and manners of this young man, which attacted the heart of Jesus to him — his youthful appearance was prepossessing — his manners pleasing — his address courteous — his language respectful — his disposition so deferential and docile that Jesus beholding him loved him. He noticed, recognized, and approved all the good qualities he possessed — he was interested in his youthful age, combined as it was with some concern for religion; he cherished benevolent wishes for his welfare, and a friendly willingness to do him good This was all; his regard for what is holy and just and good, prevented him from going farther His inward emotions all the while amounted to lamentation, that so much seeming excellence should be tainted with that which rendered it of no worth in the sight of God, and of no avail to the young man’s salvation.

You see, my young friends, what was the defect in this case — he possessed not the faith which overcomes the world. He wished to unite two things utterly irreconcilable — the love of God and the love of the world. He wanted to serve two masters, God and Mammon. It was not vice and profligacy that kept him from true religion here, and from heaven hereafter; it was the more decent and reputable sin of supreme attachment to things seen and temporal. He could give up many sins, but he could not give up his besetting sin — supreme regard to wealth. He could do many things, but he could not give up all to follow Christ. He could give up vice, but he could not deny himself and take up his cross. He had many good things, but he lacked that one thing which alone could give holiness to them all. If vice had slain its thousands, worldliness has slain its tens of thousands. Of all the false gods mentioned in the last sermon, the shrine of Mammon is most resorted to; it is from that temple the broadest and most beaten path to perdition will be found. In the crowd which press along that path, are to be found not only the knaves, the cheats, and men of dishonorable character of every kind, but the men who follow whatsoever things are just, and honest, and true, and even lovely, and of good report; who yet withal rise to no higher grade of moral excellence, and no more exalted character, than the more just and honorable worshippers of this sordid deity. Yes — even Mammon can boast of devotees, who though they do not act from a principle of religion, yet scorn all that is mean, dishonorable, and unjust. Consider the words of an inspired apostle — “If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him:” and begin life remembering that in the broad road which leadeth to destruction, there is a path for the lovers of the world, as well as for the lovers of vice.

Before I go on to take up and consider the subject of this discourse, there are a few remarks which may with propriety be made upon the case of this young man viewed in connection with our Lord’s feelings towards him.

How much concern may in some cases be felt about religion, without the subject of that solicitude being truly religious. Here was some anxiety, earnestness, and inquiry — yet no true, intelligent, and scriptural religion. A character which is by no means uncommon. We sometimes see a tree in spring so covered as to be one mass of flowers, beautiful to the eye, and fragrant to the smell, and hopeful to the owner; and yet dropping all this upon the ground, and standing in autumn a collection of branches and leaves without a single fruit. Alas, alas, how many persons resemble such young trees, and excite the hopes of parents, ministers, and others, by incipient appearances of religion, only to disappoint them. Do not, my young friends, add to the number of these promising, but deceptive appearances, and bitter disappointments.

How much good and evil may be mixed up in the same character; requiring the most careful discrimination and the most impartial exercise of judgment. Here were lovely traits mixed, corrupted, and spoiled by others of an opposite quality. In heaven and hell there are no mixed characters — the former being inhabited by the purely good, and the latter by the entirely bad. No speck is on the bright and burnished surface of the former; not a spot of brightness relieves the black ground of the latter. On earth, however, we frequently meet with a blending of apparently good and really bad qualities. The fall of man, though it struck out from the heart all that is holy towards God, did not extinguish all that is amiable towards man. Lapsed humanity is not, indeed, as angelical as ignorant or false flatterers would represent; neither is it always as unlovely, diabolical, or brutal as its injudicious detractors would assert. If no plant of paradise grows in man’s heart till planted there by grace, there are wild flowers of some beauty and pleas” ant odor which relieve the dreariness of the wilderness —

“And waste their fragrance on the desert air.”

Where this mixture exists, let us recognize it, and neither allow the good to reconcile us to the evil, nor the evil to prejudice us against the good. It is very disingenuous to talk scandal in superlatives, as though every man who is a sinner was a perfect villain.

The possession of some good qualities is no compensation for the want of others; nor any excuse whatever for the possession of bad ones.. Nothing is more common than for men to try to set up a sort of compromise between religion and morality. Some imagine that attention to the duties of the latter will release them from obligations to the former, and the performance of their duty to man, serve instead of what they owe to God; while others seem to think the performance of religious duties will exonerate them from their obligations to truth, justice, and purity. So also in these separate departments, attention to one branch of duty, especially if rather strict and rigid, is thought to be a compensation and atonement for the omission or violation of others. It will not do. It is a deceptive and destructive attempt. The Word of God repudiates this wicked compromise, and requires an absolute perfection, both of parts and of degrees, both in reference to religion and morals. It is one of the chief glories of the Bible, that it prescribes, requires, and aids the acquisition of a complete character; a character in which piety towards God and morality towards man; the elements of heavenly and earthly excellence; all that is true, and beautiful, and good shall harmoniously combine. Our Lord would not accept this young man’a morality in excuse for his want of true piety; nor his concern about the future world as an apology for his love to tha present one.

We should not fail to own and even love general excellence wherever we find it, though it may not be in association with sanctifying grace. It is good in itself and useful to others, though it will not lead on its possessor to heaven. An amiable youth, who is his parent’s comfort, so far as general excellence is concerned, even though he may not be a partaker of true conversion to God, is not to be placed upon a level with a profligate prodigal. We must not say of any man, I hate him utterly and abhor him in all respects, because he has not true holiness. Thus did not Christ act towards this young ruler. He knew he was not holy, yet, behold how he loved him.

Whatever general excellence we may see in those with whom we have to do, and however we may admire and commend it, we should still point out their defects, and endeavor to lead them on to seek the supply of them. This especially applies to a want of religion associated with the possession of many excellencies. We are all too apt to be thrown off our guard here, and to allow ourselves to think there must be piety where there is so much besides that is lovely: or if not, that it could add but little to such excellence. It is to be recollected, however, that as long as these general good qualities are associated with an unrenewed and unsanctified nature, they are utterly destitute of that only principle which can make them truly virtuous, which alone can render them lovely in the sight of God, and which alone can connect them with salvation. No false tenderness to the feelings of such persons, no disposition to flatter them, no regard to the opinions of others, should lead us to

A DEFECTIVE AxMIABILITY. 103

conceal from them what we know they are destitute of, and which it is necessary they should possess in order to their salvation. How faithfully did our Lord say —” One thing thou lacked yet.’’’’

Our judgments in matters of morality and religion should be formed by, and follow, that of God. The Bible is the standard, and God the judge of true excellence. The conventional opinions of men on these subjects are often very different from those of God. He looks at the heart, while man oftentimes looks no further than the outward bearing. He looks at the state of the heart towards himself: man too generally looks no further than the conduct towards society. In reference to many a lovely specimen of general excellence, man would ask the question — “What can be wanting here V God replies —” Religion.” Man asks further — ‘’ What could religion add to this?” God answers — “The first of all duties and excellencies, love to me.” Man still q&estions — “Would any one consign this to destruction .^” God replies — “Is this what I demand for salvation; or is it that which constitutes a meetness for heaven .?”

It is important to remark the interest our divine Lord takes in the welfare of the youngs and especially of young MEN. There is nothing like this said of any other person in all the Word of God. No other individual seems in the same way to have called forth the sensibilities of our Lord. That it was an exercise of his regard towards a particular individual, is admitted; but it may well be imagined it was intended to be a type of his interest in a class, and that class is yours, young men. Jesus looks from his throne of glory upon you — addresses himself to you — is waiting for you — - will receive you and that with special complacency. Go back to the book of Proverbs, and see how conspicuous a place you sustain in the attention of the writer.

But I go on now to discuss more particularly the subject of this evening’s discourse — a defective amiableness. By amiableness we mean what in common discourse we call good nature — a kindliness of disposition — a willingness to oblige, sometimes united with a gentleness of manner, and a lively frankness of conduct: that, in fact, which constitutes general loveliness of character. Now this, so beautiful in itself, may be, and often is, very defective in reference to other important and necessary things.

First. — There are several general views that may be taken of this defectiveness, which I will lay before you, before I come to that special case which is brought under review in the text.

There is an amiableness, so called which is nothing better than the Confounding of a good temper with an easy om These two are very different: the former, as distinguished from the latter, means a kindliness of nature — a disposition to accommodate and oblige, which is under the regulation of a sound judgment; which is always watchful against the undue influence of others, and can resolutely refuse to comply with a request for any thing improper in itself, however importunately solicited. Good temper may, and often does, most firmly and even sternly say, “No.” But an easy temper rarely can or does. It has not the power to resist entreaty, but allows itself to be persuaded by almost everybody, and to almost every thing. Such a temper resembles an osier, which any one that pleases can bend in any direction, and which in fact bends of itself before the gentlest breexe. A good temper has eyes to see and examine, as well as ears to hear — an easy temper is quick of hearing, but stone blind: a good temper is self-moved and self-governed — an easy temper is a mere automaton, which others move and guide without any resistance of its own: a good temper is a kind heart in association with a clear head — an easy temper is all heart but no head. Such an easy temper is a very dangerous one, and has led multitudes to their ruin. Never surrender yourselves thus, even to your friends; for if you do, you may soon find yourselves in the hands of your enemies. He is not your friend who desires to be your master. Be a slave to no man. Never give away your judgment; and instantly dismiss from your society the individual whom you suspect of imposing upon good nature, and who takes you for the poor dupe that has neither opinion nor will of his own, but can be led to do anything by entreaty and coaxing. Acquire strength as well as beauty of character. Learn to say, “No,” as well as “Yes,” and how-to abide by it.

Sometimes we see much amiableness associated with much ignorance. There is much that is really very kind and obliging; much to conciliate aflfection, but very little to command respect. Hence the excellence that is in the character does not do the good it might, for want of talent or acquirement to give it weight. It is of such a person said with a sneer, “Very good, but very weak.” “VVe say, therefore, do not be an amiable fool — an obliging ignoramus — a mere kind simpleton; but cultivate your intellect, and let knowledge recommend virtue. In this respect, as well as in others, do not let “your good be evil spoken of.”

It has not unfrequently occurred that amiableness has unhappily been associated with infidelity and immorality Perhaps more fre(|uently with the latter than with the former

Speculative infidelity has a tendency to make men cold, hard, gloomy; it freezes the genial current of the soul; withers and starves benevolence; and petrifies the heart into selfishness. But dissipation and vice are often frank and vivacious; full of mirth and merriment. Modern refinement in demoralization has selected a term of some attraction to describe a profligate, and he is said to be ‘“‘’ gay Colonel Gardiner before his conversion was called “The Happy Rake.” Of all the characters on earth that are dangerous to you, and should be shunned by you, the amiable profligate is the one most to be dreaded. The man of kind disposition, insinuating address, polished manners, sparkling wit, and broad humor, but of bad principles, or bad conduct, is the most seductive agent of the Wicked One for the ruin of youth. It is the fascination of the eye of the basilisk; it is the glossy and beautifully variegated skin of the serpent, concealing the fang and the venom; it is the golden chalice that contains the poisonous draught; or to reach the climax, it is Satan transformed, if not into an angel of light, into a personification of polished and attractive vice. Of such men beware.

Secondly. I now more particularly speak of amiableness without religion.

I remark, that young men may and often do possess many things that are lovely and interesting while at the same, time they are destitute of true piety. There may be a delicate sensibility the heart may be susceptible, the imagination glowing, and the feelings alive to whatever is tender, pathetic, or heroic — and yet all the while there may be no sense of sin, no gratitude to Christ, no love of God, no delight in holiness, no aspirations after heaven. There may be natural genius; acquired knowledge; large information; their possessor may be able to argue logically, to discourse with ready conversational power, to the delight of friends and the admiration of strangers — and yet one thing may be lacking, for there may be no knowledge of God or of eternal life: and over that mind which is so bright and so brilliant, as regards the present world, may brood the darkness which involves it in the shadow of death. You will sometimes see a young man so eager in the pursuit of knowlege as to trim the midnight lamp, and anticipate the dawn by his studies, till his eye waxes dim, his cheek grows pale, and the seeds of disease begin to spring up in his constitution, which has become enfeebled by mental application; and yet he cares nothing for the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven — there is one book he studies not, and that the best of books — and one science he cares not to know, and that the science of salvation. To such a man we say, in Foster’s striking language, “By what dexterity of irreligious caution did you precisely avoid every track where the idea of God would meet you, or elude that idea when it came? What must sound reason think of that mind, which amidst millions of thoughts, has wandered to all things under the sun — to all the permanent, or vanishing appearances of creation, but never fixed its thoughts on the supreme reality, and never approached like Moses to see that great sight.” There may be docility and meekness, gentleness of disposition, and the utmost general loveliness of ckarader and yet none of tho humility of genuine religion, nt»ne of the true poverty of spirit, none of the meekness and gentleness of Christ, none of the mind that was in Jesus. There may be unexceptionable sobriety — all the passions may be under the restraint.-? of reason — all the propensities may be ruled by the nio.st entire self-government — yet there may not be that holy sober-mindedness, which is the subject of the apostle’s exhortation, and which consists in keeping the great end of life in view, and adopting such principles as are connected with it. There may be the assiduities of an active benevolence in young people, a willing co-operation in schemes of usefulness for the benefit of the nation or the world, or of some particular class of objects of human compassion; much labor may be bestowed, much self-denial practised; and yet all this while there may be no working out their own salvation with fear and trembling. There may be honesty and trustworthiness as a servant, exemplary diligence and perseverance — and yet there may be no giving diligence to the great work of pleasing God, and no exercise of solicitude to serve the Lord Jesus Christ, Yea, as in the case of the young man mentioned in the text, there may be some concern about religion, a regular attendance on the ordinances of the sanctuary — some occasional impressions and convictions — some transient concern about -eternity — and yet there may be no entire giving up sin and the world; no complete surrender of the soul to Christ; no regeneration of heart; no faith in Christ; no holiness. A man may know the truth and not love it: he may hear the gospel and not believe it: he may contemplate the scheme of redemption and not improve it: he may know something

of the doctrine of the cross, and yet not appropriate it for the salvation of his soul: and he may speculate about the glory of the Saviour, and the suitableness of his character and work, and yet not embrace the Saviour, and receive his righteousness as the ground of his everlasting hope.

It is most impressive and affecting to consider to what a list of general excellencies, to what an assemblage of virtues, in the same character, this sad declaration must be sometimes added, “Yet there is one thing lacking,” 0! to look successively upon the varied forms of unsanctified moral beauty, as they pass before the searching eye of Christian scrutiny, and to have to say to each as he goes by, “Yet lackest thou the one thing needful!”

Thirdly. — Whatever may be possessed short of true religion is, viewing man as an immortal creature, essentially and ruinously defective. And in what other light than an immortal creature can he be viewed, if we really include his whole being, and his highest being y I will suppose, then, the possession of many things, yea, I will carry the idea as far as it can be carried, and will suppose the possession of everything — except this one thing — true religion — and in the lack of that, there is a chasm which all the rest cannot fill up — a deficiency they cannot supply. To say of a human being, a rational, sinful, and immortal creature, he has everything — but religion; is as if we should say of a citizen, he has everything but patriotism — of a child, he has everything but filial piety — of a husband, he has everything but conjugal affection. It is just that want for which no assemblage of acquisitions and other excellencies can be the smallest substitute or -compensation. Collect a garland of beautiful flowers, and wreathe them round the brow of a corpse, lovely even in death, and ask, “What is wanting here .^” And the very silence answers, — Life. This is a just representation of the unsanctified excellencies of a young person without religion. Look at this defect in various relations.

1. To God. The other things may have no direct reference to him, but this has, and this only. It is what he demands. Some of the other things he leaves to your taste; but this he binds upon your conscience. He demands your faith; your love; your submission; your devotedness; and you are content with excellencies that have no reference whatever to your Creator, Preserver, and Benefactor! You can be content to smile upon your fellow-creatures, and be smiled upon by them, without ever asking, “Where is God, my Maker, that I might enjoy the light of his countenance, and reflect it back in gratitude and love?” Is God just that one being whom you might leave out of all consideration and regard, and treat at least worthy of being acknowledged and thought of? Is God just that one friend, whom it is quite a venial sin to banish from the mind, and who is to be no more regarded than if he were some idol in a temple of India? Is love to God just that one state of heart which can be best spared from the virtuous affections, and by its absence make no chasm? Shall you by civility, courtesy, good-nature, seek to please and gratify every one besides, and not seek to please God by religion? Did it ever occur to you to ask, “How must I appear in the sight of God himself, with this one defect — a want of religion?” How odious, indeed! and hateful, and desperately wicked, in his sight, must that one defect make you appear I For him to see you the joy of your friends, giving and receiving pleasure — but all this while no communion with him maintained or even sought — no devout, ennobling converse held with hiai — no sincere pouring out the soul in the way of fervent desires for his illumination, his compassion, his forgiveness, his transforming operations — no earnest penitential pleading in the name of Christ, for his favor; no solemn, affectionate dedication of the whole being to his service. Instead of all this, mere general excellencies which give you good standing among your fellow-creatures, but which have no more reference to him than if he did not exist. Ah! what a defect that one blank must be in the sight of God.

A DEFECTIVE AMIABILITY. Ill

2. View it now in reference to the Bible, the book of Grod, Itnd all the great subjects which it contains It was to implant this one thing in your heart, that the Son of God became incarnate, and died upon the cross — that the Holy-Spirit was poured out — that the Scriptures were written — that the law was given — that the Psalmist was inspired to record his sorrows, confessions, aspirations, and devotions — that prophets uttered their predictions — that apostles penned their gospels and epistles. Heaven has opened and poured forth its splendors and its revelations, not to make you simply amiable, which you might have been without this series of communications from the invisible world; not merely to bestow a few general ornaments upon the character, leaving its substance unchanged, defective, and corrupt as it is; not merely to fit you to give pleasure in the circle of your earthly friends, while still alienated from God and holiness: Oh, no! The Bible, that wondrous book, that silent testimony for God and from him, was penned to bring you under the influence of vital, experimental religion. And yet you are content with amiabilities, with which you might have been possessed, if this volume had never been written! The Bible, God’s book, written by the inspiration of God’s Spirit, containing God’s thoughts, expressed in God’s words, calls you then, not to mere general excellencies, but to this one thing which you lack. Patriarchs, priests, prophets, apostles, martyrs, all say to you, “Yet lackest thou one thing.” Every writer, every page, of the holy book repeats the admonition.

3. View this defect in reference to yourselves. All other things fall short of your faculties — your capacity — your wants — your desires. Amiableness, intelligence, sprightliness, do no meet your cise, you noed something higher nnd better. You want religion whether you desire it or not You may to a considerable extent be ignorant of your necessity in this respect, but it exists. It is the one thing which you not only lack, but need. Religion is not to be viewed as a thing which your Creator imposes upon you by a mere arbitrary appointment, as if he would exact, simply in assertion of his supremacy, and in requirement of homage from his creature, something which in itself is foreign to the necessities of your nature. It is not a kind of tree of knowledge of good and evil, a simple test of obedience. No. “By its intrinsic quality it so corresponds to your nature, that the possession of it is vital, and its rejection, mortal, to your felicity. From the spiritual principle of your soul, there is an absolute necessity that it should be raised into complacent communication with its Divine Original.” It is as much constituted to need this communication now and for ever, as the child is to receive the nourishment which Providence has laid up in the breast of its mother; and it seems as rational to suppose the infant could be satisfied and fed, and made to grow by the ornaments that might be lavished upon its robes, while the mother’s milk is denied, as that a soul formed to enjoy God can be satisfied with any general excellencies of character, while religion which leads to the fountain of true happiness is neglected: and if it be not so exalted as to be placed in communion with God, it is degraded and prostrated to objects which cannot by their nature, adequately meet, and fill, and bless its faculties. No matter what you are or what you have, if you have not religion: for if you have not religion, you have not God: you are without God. And what can make up for that privation.’’ Consider only one single view of such a situation, that of the loneliness of a human soul without God, ’ All other things are necessarily extraneous to the soul; they may communicate with it, but they are still separate and without it, an intermediate vacancy keeps them for ever asunder; so that, till God, whose essence pervades all things comes in and is apprehended and felt to be absolutely in the soul, the soul must be, in a sense, in an insuperable and eternal solitude.” But when religion comes into the soul, then God comes to dwell in it, and thus “the interior, central loneliness, the solitude of the soul, is banished by a most perfectly intimate presence, which supplies the most affecting sense of society — a society, a communion, which imparts life and joy, and may continue in perpetuity.” Happy is the man, whose soul hath this one thing which meets all its faculties, wants, and woes. What can the other and lesser things do in time of sickness, of misfortune, of bereavement, and of death y Will a sprightly disposition, a merry temper, a humorous fancy, or even a well-stored intellect, be of any service then? What will these things do in such circumstances y They may grow as flowers in the path of life, but will they bloom in the valley of the shadow of death y Infidelity indeed gives us one instance, I mean Hume, who could find no higher or better employment than playing cards, reading novels, or cracking jokes upon Charon and his boat, in prospect of that eternity, which, with his views, presented nothing but the shadows of eternal night. Such levity ill comported with such anticipations; and was perhaps nothing better than the act of a timid boy going through a church-yard at night,

“Whistling to keep his spirits up.”

4. But view these defective things in reference to the day of judgment and the scenes that follow. Yes, there is a daji ordained, in which God will judge the world in righveous* ness, by Jesus Christ. “Rejoice, 0 young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes; but know thou that for all these things, God will bring thee into judgment.” Imagine that day were come — that you heard the trumpet sound — that you saw the dead rising from their graves — the world in flames — the Judge descending — the great white throne fixed in the air — the nations gathered round the dread tribunal, waiting their doom. What an awful, ineffable, inconceivable scene — the last day — the judgment of a world — the close of time — the commencement of eternity — the opening of heaven and hell to receive their everlasting inmates! Conceive, young men, conceive, if it be possible to grasp, to hold, to endure, the conception, of your going up to the tribunal, to have your character scrutinized, and your doom pronounced, and when listening for the result, to hear only that dreadful sentence, “Thou art weighed in the balances and found wanting.’’’’ Thy defective amiabilities are of no avail here. Thy good nature — thy sprightly temper — thy varied intelligence — thy attractive amenity — have not the weight of a feather, are not the small dust of the balance, in which thy character is determined. Thou hast lacked one thing — that one thing is everything here. “Thoit, art weighed in the balances and found wanting.’’^ How, how will you endure that decision? It has been very strikingly observed, that” At the day of judgment, the attention excited by the surrounding scene, the strange aspect of nature, the dissolution of the elements, and the last trump, will have no other efffect than to cause the reflections of the sinner to return with a more overwhelming tide upon his own character, his sentence, his unchanging destiny; and amidst the innumerable millions who surround him, he will mourn apart. ‘’^

5. View it in relation to heaven. The loveliest of all dispositions, and the possession of the richest excellencies, apart from faith in Christ, and the love of God, have no reference to that state, and constitute no meetness for it. Heaven is a holy place and state for holy people, and “Without holiness no man shall see the Lord,” whatever else he may have. Will good temper, amenity of disposition, vivacity, wit, or humor, alone prepare the soul for converse with God? Are these the things that meeten us for the communion of holy angels and holy men in the presence of a holy God? At best such attainments are the flowers of an earthly soil, and not the plants of Paradise. How completely would the possessors of such qualities alone, without a holy, heavenly taste and bias, find themselves out of their element in that region of which holiness is the pervading character, an(? which, while it attracts to itself all that is holy, rejects everything else.

I now address myself to three classes of young persons.* First. To those who have some things generally lovely atul excellent in their character, bmt are destitute of true religion, — to you that have sweet dispositions — or good talenta — or acquired knowledge — or attractive wit and humor — or vivacious temper — or all these together — but unsanctified b piety, unconsecrated to God, unemployed for Christ. Alas, alas, what a wilderness of blooming weeds of various forms and colors, but weeds still, 07ily weeds; and as to any influence upon your happy destiny in eternity, useless and

* Some of the sentiments and expressions in this conclusion, are borrowed from Dr. Watts’ Sermon on the same text, entitled, “A nopeful Youth falling short o Heaven.

vain; fbrming only a garland for the immortal soul on her way to perdition, but no crown of amaranth for the glorified spirit in heaven and eternity; nor even any, the smallest relief, under her miseries in that world of helpless despair to which her want of religion must inevitably consign her. With a fidelity which my regard to truth, to God, and yourselves, alike require, I assure you that no amount of amiable and interesting qualities, in the absence of religion, can by possibility save you from the perdition that awaits ungodly men. There is an infinite diversity both of kind and degree in the sins to be found in the characters and conduct of unrenewed and unsanctified men; a difference as great as that which exists between this amiable youth in the text, and the blaspheming infidel and the vicious profligate; and all will be dealt with by a rule of proportion, but all must be swept away together, the most beautiful weeds, and the most noxious ones, with the besom of destruction; and however dissimilar and discordant while living and growing upon earth, they will be blended in one common mass of irrecoverable corruption. In unsanctified human excellence, that which has no root in the love of God and the grace of the Holy Spirit,- there is no imperishable principle; no germ of divine, heavenly, and immortal life; it is, the very best of it, but of the earth, earthy, — it must die in the soil from which it rises, and can never be transplanted to the paradise of God. I pity the young, the vigorous, the comely figures that neglect to seek after divine grace, and that are ruined for ever by the want of religion. I pity the man of sweet temper, without sanctifying grace — of solid judgment, without sound piety — of lively imagination, without a living faith — of attractive manners, without himself being attracted to the cross of Christ — of courtesy towards man, who yet cherishes enmity

A DEFECTIVE AMIABILITY. Il7

towards God — who is a polished gentleman, yet an unconverted sinner — the admiration of his companions, and yet au object of displeasure to his Creator. So much general excellence infected by a deadly taint that corrupts it all! How at the last day will such persons be mortified, enraged, and tormented to see men preferred to themselves, whom when on earth they despised as undeserving of their notice — the men of ignorant minds, clownish manners, and rugged exterior. Yes, but under all that outward repulsiveness were concealed the principles of true religion — repentance towards God, faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, and a holy life. Much that is amiable was wanting, but there was religious principle. To see them owned by the Judge, exalted to his throne, and crowned with his glory; while unsanctified genius and irreligious amiableness are rejected as reprobate silver — how profoundly humiliating, how terribly exasperating to those who then will be thrown aside by God as rubbish and refuse. And following these rejected youths of unsanctified amiableness onward to their eternal state, what miserable spectacles do they present. You that were the life of every company into which you came, and whose absence was mourned as that of the charmer of the circle, — will your gay fancy brighten the gloom of those regions of sorrow, or give airs of gladness to those doleful shades to which you and they will then be banished! Will you by any of your present acquisitions, be able to relieve yourselves or your companions of the torture produced by the recollection that it was these very arts of wit and humor, sometimes turned against religion, that helped them on to that place of punishment y Will sallies of wit, sportive jests, airs of merriment, playful humor, beguile the dreadful round of the miseries of a lost soul, and make the wheels of eternity move faster and lighter,

118 THK YOUNG MAn’s FRIEND.

as they did those of time? How will you of soft and gentle nature, of amiable disposition, bear the banishment to which you will be condemned from the regions of peace and concord, the paradise of love, the habitation of all holy friendship; and the imprisonment with demons and demon-like men? “How will your souls endure the madness and contention, the envy and spite, of wicked angels; you that delighted on earth in works of peace, what will you do when your tender dispositions shall be hourly ruffled by the uproar and confusion of these dark regions? And instead of the society of God and blessed spirits, ye shall be eternally vexed with the perverse tempers of your fellow-sinners, the sons of darkness? 0 that I could speak in melting language or in the language of effectual terror, that I might by any means awaken your souls to jealousy and timely fear! That so many natural excellencies as God hath distributed among you, might not be wasted in sin, abased to dishonor, and aggravate your everlasting misery.”*

I most earnestly exhort you to supply the defect to which this sermon has directed your attention, and admonish you to add to all that is amiable, that which is holy; to all that is lovely in the sight of man, that which is well-pleasing in the sight of God; to all that is earthly in the way of excellence, that which is heavenly, divine, and eternal. Bear in vivid recollection what it is you need. You have, or are supposed to have, attractive endowments of mind, or heart, or character — but not real, decided, spiritual religion. And will that religion, if you have it, interfere with any of your other excellencies? Will it displace them to make room for itself; Will it pull up all those flowers and throw them away, as inimical to its own nature, and prejudicial to its own

* Dr. Watts.

growth? Nothing of the sort. Amiableness is homogeneous with religion — the former is loveliness in the sight of man, and the latter is loveliness in the sight of God. When the grace of Grod enters the soul of man, what it finds beautiful it makes more beautiful. It comes not like the cold’chills and dark shadows of evening or of winter to shut up the flowers, and hide their beauties, and nip their strength; but like the rising sun, to open their petals, to reveal their beauties, to brighten their colors, to exhale their fragrance, and to invigorate their strength. Religion is itself the chief amiableness, and the cherisher of all other kinds. Hence it is that holiness is everywhere called beauty.

Secondly. There is another class I would briefly address, I mean those who are as defective in amiableness as they are in religion. Alas, how many are there of this character, who have neither gentleness nor graciousness; who are possessed neither of the beauties of holiness, nor the attractions of kindness, godliness, and courtesy; but who are as unlovely as they are ungodly; and have scarcely any to take delight in them either in heaven or upon earth. Morose, ungentle, unaccommodating in their disposition, they are incapable of enjoying happiness, and unwilling to impart it. They have oven no external and tinsel ornaments to compensate for the want of internal and substantial excellencies. They are like flowers which have no beauty of color to divert attention from their ofi’ensive color; like fruits which are as bitter to the taste as they are unsightly to the eye; like “certain animals, whose outward characteristics are offensive to every sense, and whose flesh is unfit for food. Unhappy young men! See them at home; they are tyrannical, morose, selfish, domineering, the troublers of domestic peace, the constant cause of disquiet and disturbance. Even to their parents they are ungrateful, disrespectful, and wayward: unmelted by a mother’s gentle influence, unsubdued by a father’s mild authority, and unsoftened by the gentle fascination of a sister’s love And how often do they go still farther in this want of amiableness, and by adding immorality and profligacy to unloveliness, do much to break a mother’s heart, and bring down a father’s grey hairs with sorrow to the grave! Ah, how many fratricides and matricides walk our earth, which no law but that of God can arrest, and no justice but that of heaven punish! How many carry the heart of a savage under the name of a son; and the poison of asps under their tongues and in their tempers, and towards even their parents transvenom all emotions of filial piety into the wormwood and gall of intense hatred of those to whom they owe their very existence! What an object of abhorrence must such a youth be to that divine Saviour who evinced in the subject of this sermon not only his sensibility to the beauties of holiness, but to the loveliness of general excellence. Is there such a youth attending to me at this moment — go, young man, from this discourse to your closet, your Bible, your knees, and your God, and implore that grace which has said, “Instead of the thorn shall come up the fir tree, and instead of the briar shall come up the myrtle tree.”

Thirdly. I address those who are in earnest after religion and who really possess its essential principles, but are somewhat deficient in the more lovely and ornamental beauties of the Christian character. This is not a defective amiableness merely, but a defective religion. And observation convinces us that it is no suppositious character. It ought not to exist, but it does. Religion, in itself the very type of all that is true, and good, and beautiful, should draw after it every thing else that is beautiful. The supreme J Dveliness should command the subordinate, but it does not always. It must be sorrowfully admitted that a mind enlightened by the Spirit of God — a heart renewed by divine grace — -a life regulated by Christian principle — are not always associated, in a proportionate degree, with the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, an amiable temper, and a courteous demeanor. We have sometimes seen a form of distinguished personal beauty disfigured by a want of cleanliness and a slovenly attire. The exquisite symmetry could not be altogether concealed; but how much more attractive would it have appeared with other and more suitable accompaniments! So it is with character; there may be real beauty of holiness, but in sad and slovenly attire of temper. Changing the illustration, I may observe, the brilliancy of the most valuable diamond may be hidden by earthly incrustations; the lustre of gold may be dimmed for want of polish; and the most majestic portrait be half covered with dust or mildew. So religion, which is more precious than rubies, more valuable than gold, and the very image of God in the soul of man, may have its worth and its excellence depreciated by infirmities of temper and a want of amiable deportment. Religious young men, be amiable as well as pious: not only your happiness, but your usefulness requires it. You know that vice has not unfrequently its attractions in the amiabilities with which it is associated, and that some are reconciled to it on this ground. It is equally true that religion may have its repulsions, and that some may be driven from it by these partial deformities. Be it then your desire, your endeavor, your prayer, to unite the holy and the amiable; let the diamond with its flashing hues be thus seen in its most tasteful setting — the gold in ita brightest polish — and the picture exhibiting the freshes* colors, and surrounded by the richest frame. Win you! companions to piety by the attractions with which in your case it is associated. Make them feel that religion is not the frowning and spectral form they have been accustomed to consider it; a gloomy spirit that cannot smile; a vampire that sucks the life’s blood of joy from the soul of youth. On the contrary, let them see that it is angelical and not demoniacal in its nature, which with a seraph’s sacred fervor combines his sweetness, gentleness, and ineffable loveliness. It is this which while it will prepare you to pass through life blessing and being blest, happy in yourself and diffusing happiness around you, will also prepare you for the immortal felicities of the celestial world.” It is this which transferred to heaven will kindle with new and immortal lustre, and will be set in that constellated firmament of living and eternal splendors. Of that brilliant world, that region where all things live, and shine, and flourish, and triumph for ever and ever, the glory, the excellence, is eminently the union of all that is holy and all that is lovely. There, all are brethren, and all love, and are loved as brethren. All are divinely amiable, and excellent friends. Every one possesses in absolute perfection the moral beauty that is loved, and the virtue which loves it. Every one, conscious of unmingled purity within, approves

and loves himself for that divine image, which in complete perfection, and with untainted resemblance, is enstamped upon his own character. Each in every view which he casts around him beholds the same glory shining and brightening in the endless train of his companions; one in nature, but diversified without end in those forms and varieties of excellence by which the original and eternal Beauty delights to present itself to the virtuous universe. There, every one conscious of being entirely lovely, and entirely loved, reciprocates the same love to that great multitude which no man can number of all nations kindreds and tongues, and which fill the immeasurable regions of heaven. Out of this character grows a series, ever varying, ever improving, of all the possible communications of beneficence, fitted in every instance only to interchange and increase the happiness of all. In the sunshine of Infinite complacency, the light of the new Jerusalem, the original source of all their own beauty, life, and joy, all these happy nations walk for ever and transported with the life-giving influence, unite in one harmonious and eternal hymn to the great Author of all their excellencies and all their enjoyments — Blessing and honor j and glory and wiS’ dom and thanksgivings he unto Him who sitteth on the throm for ever and ever. Amen