attached to a distinction into natural and moral, of what he can obtain no definition? We think not. Let the advocates for this distinction tell us what power is, then we will discuss the utility of the distinction. Still, we have admitted that there is truth and some legitimate use in the distinction; although not in the connexion and for the purposes contended for by

many.

There is one use to the philosopher who undertakes accurately to define the laws of mental operations, and discriminate the charac ter of human actions-To such a purpose, the distinction is useful and important. Although power is not defined, there are certain relations to natural and moral sources and results, which render the distinction necessary. But the most acute and skilful mental philosopher might spend his life in teaching the discriminating fact, without ever inducing the multitude to understand it. He might employ some substitutes for definition, which is often done, and to these apply with some success his distinction. But if those substitutes are not cautiously made, and immediately associated with the relation which suggests the idea of power, they will mislead the metaphysician himself. There cannot, therefore, be very great importance for its use in illustrating gospel truth, and impressing it upon common minds.

There is, however, a popular use of the distinction as it exists in fact, which has some value. It is to assist in estimating, and sometimes in ascertaining, the proper object of praise and blame, that is, the heart and the feelings. Men are conscious that their natural ability, which might otherwise be employed for God's glory and their own greatest good, is controlled and misdirected by a perverted moral power an ability to do evil, and to bring the whole man under its

influence. We repeat, therefore, that we do admit, men are conscious, both of power and of the distinction as it exists in fact, but not as defined and used by many. Men are also often conscious of inability, both natural and moral; and often make the distinction in the common concerns of life. We have heard such facts as the two following, cited, to show the character of these two kinds of inability: Joseph's "brethren hated him and could not speak peaceably unto him"-the other is the case of the sailors before they cast Jonah into the sea; "the men rowed hard to bring the ship to the land, but could not." The first is. cited as a case of moral and the latter of natural inability. We admit their appositeness, but what does the distinction avail in these cases? We answer, to show where the blame centres in one case, and praise in the other. In the first case, the hearts or moral faculties of Joseph's brethren, or if our opponents like, their moral ability, controlled their natural ability, and perverted it to evil, and prevented them from speaking peaceably to him. In the other case humane feelings of the heart, or moral faculty are developed, and they directed the natural ability to a good effort, but the wind and waves prevented the accomplishment of their object. Did not the feelings as entirely control or direct the natural ability, in the latter as in the former case? In the latter case there was no fault, simply because there was no bad feeling. But suppose the sailors had hated Jonah and toiled hard to effect a landing, for the purpose of burning Jonah at the stake, would there not have been crime, although the wind and waves prevented the deed? We make this supposition for the purpose of showing the use of the distinction, in ascertaining and estimating blame. It attaches to the heart because here is the source of action.

But we ask again, if the case of Joseph's brethren does not set aside the doctrine contended for, by those who affirm that men have natural power to change their hearts, love God, repent, and obey all God's commands? The affirmative of the question is plain, else why should the phrase," could not speak peaceably," be used? If natural ability, by the laws of human action, may govern the feelings, it would not be proper to say they could not speak peaceably. We might pursue the analysis of this case much further, but it would bring us again to the result already made plain, that natural power is not the measure of obligation, and show that the most important use of this distinction between natural and moral power and inability, is to aid in estimating the character of the heart. But even here the vagueness of the terms is such, that the thing intended is better secured by other terms. If we do not mistake, there are many who have been in the habit of using and urging the distinction, who are now discontinuing its prominent use. We think the distinction is fast going into disuse. But the errorists of the same school assert, without qualification, that. men have power to perform all that God re

will

philosophy, but less reckless, take the alarm, see the error, and retrace their steps back to the sober truth of God's word. They will see that to be guided by this speculative philosophy is to "transgress and abide not in the doctrine of Christ."

We have been diverted a little from the course which we had prescribed for these brief articles, by the consideration that errors on the doctrine and uses of human power are rife in the church. We wished to cast in our mite, in this season of agitation, to settle the great controversy, on the side of truth and regard for the bible, in its plain meaning. Should Providence favour us, we intend hereafter to resume our plan, and bring the radical principles of our mental philosophy to the test of Divine revelation. If it shall be found that those principles will bear the test and abide the trial, we may have confidence in using them, to correct some of the speculations which have a mischievous influence in the church at the present time.

From the Evangelical Magazine.

F.

mate inference from the doctrine that power is the measure of moral obligation. The consequences to be apprehended from this and the like errors, are many and grievous, but we have not room here to pursue them. Suffice it for the present to say, what we seriously believe will soon be realized, that the tendency of that philosophy which disregards the plain interpretation of God's word, and dispenses with the mission of the Holy Spirit, is so rapidly onward, that it will soon have run its race, and landed its reckless adherents in blank infidelity. It is to be hoped, however, that many who are tinctured with the

DENCE CHECKS THE ABUSE PARDON.

OF

The wisdom of God is apparent in the manner in which he bestows his favours; he imparts them on such grounds, in such circumstances, and in such a manner, as may prevent their being abused by the folly, or by the presumption of man. Thus, even in the works of nature, he distributes his bounties in a manner which impresses us with the majesty, as well as the indulgence of the donor; the meridian sun, while it gladdens and beautifies the face of nature, dazzles and blinds the eye that gazes presumptuously on it: and the

storms by which the air is purified strike terror by their violence, and sometimes spread desolation in their course.

This wisdom was conspicuous in his dealings with Israel. At the intercession of Moses and Aaron, he did not execute on them the fierceness of his anger, but saved them from the destruction to which they had exposed themselves by their crimes; yet such indications of his displeasure were given as made them stand in awe. Thus, while he consented to remain with the Israelites after their fall into idolatry, the destruction of the thousands that perished at his rebuke showed that he would not be insulted with impunity, Thus, also, when they murmured for flesh, he gave them their request, but sent leanness into their soul. It is with such wisdom that he bestows forgiveness under the gospel. It has been said, that the doctrine of a full and irreversible pardon of sin is calculated to make those less careful to avoid iniquity who imagine they have been blessed with the privilege, and that it emboldens the presumptuous transgressor in his vicious excesses by the hope which it suggests. It would be no difficult matter to vindicate the doctrine from such cavils, by pointing out the motives which it suggests to walk in the fear of God; but I shall in this essay show the various ways by which God testifies his displeasure against the sin which he forgives, snd that this blessing is accompanied by feelings, and followed by results adapted to awaken virtuous circumspection.

The pardoned person is often afflicted with sharp remorse. Conscience is one of the original principles of our nature, which disapproves and condemns what is sinful in our conduct. It is altogether independent of the opinion of the world; for it calls us to ac

count for actions unknown to our fellow men, and censures with severity deeds which they deem in no way criminal. This principle is improved in its sensibility, and strengthened in its power, in the redeemed; so that what it once viewed with indulgence, it cannot now endure, and rejects extenuations and apologies which it once admitted. The consciousness of pardon renders its reflections more severe, by the idea of the mercy against which we have sinned. Its charges fill the pardoned with shame and grief in situations the most prosperous, and in affliction they add the lightning and the thunder to the clouds and wind of the storm. It has made them smite their breasts in agony, and water their couch with tears. This is peculiarly the case after atrocious sins, or where persons have lived many years in sin before their moral change. There is a sophistry by which wicked men attempt to soothe an accusing conscience which a penitent will not employ; and there are scenes of indulgence to which they fly for relief in which he cannot mingle. It is from on high the voice alone can come, which speaks joy and gladness to the contrite spirit.

Pardoned persons are frequently harassed with doubts and fears. Sometimes they have the blessed assurance of forgiveness; but such delightful impressions are transient, and are often succeeded by painful anxieties and misgiv ings. They fear that their assurance was a presumptuous delusion, and objects and events force upon their hearts the horrible conclusion that they are still condemned. With these anxieties the darkest forebodings are associated. They tremble at the idea of the calamities to which the wrath of God may subject them in this world, and are often in bondage through fear of death. Instead of rising to their view under those soft images in

which triumphant faith clothes it, it is to them the king of terrors; nay, there are seasons in which the fearful looking for of judgment and of fiery indignation fills them with horror, and in which the bright hopes of others only aggravate those gloomy anticipations of their own misery. "I am afflicted," said Heman, "and ready to die: from my youth up, while I suffer thy terrors, I am distracted."

The penitent are sometimes punished in their relations. When a man is chastened here, it is in a place where the heart is tenderly aliye, and where every stroke is acutely felt. They have been punished in the death of relations. Thus Nathan said to David: "The Lord hath put away thy sin, thou shalt not die; howbeit, because by this deed thou hast given great occasion to the enemies of the Lord to blaspheme, the child that is born to thee shall die." How bitter are the tears that drop on the cold cheek of such victims, and how severe the agony which dictates the lamentation, "For thee I ought to have died, my son, my son!" In some cases their relations die without their seeing them, or hearing from their lips the assurance of forgiveness; and to them no opportunity is given of performing those ministrations of sympathy and love, so consoling to those that pay, as well as to those that receive them. Nay, the horrible thought has wrung their spirits, that by their misconduct they have broken the hearts of their friends, and brought down their gray hairs with sorrow to the grave. Ah! how the feelings of the dutiful child are then envied, as the dying parent bears testimony to his kindness and duty, and as he "falls upon his face and weeps over him and kisses him."

Sometimes they are punished in the misconduct of their relations. To vices from which they have

been reclaimed, their conversation may be devoted, and all their entreaties and warnings may be repelled, with the most insolent and cruel allusions to the evil of their former doings. Parents reclaimed from the habits of intemperance have had children who were its slaves; and have, whilst they beheld their youth blasted and substance wasted in the excess of riot, and every plan and effort defeated for their respectable settlement in life, reflected in the bitterness of their spirits, that they had taught those to sin whom they could not reform, and that the influence of a father's follies could not be put away by a father's tears.

Sometimes the penitent have been punished by the severity of their relations. It has happened that no tokens of amendment could reconcile the hearts of relations to the returning prodigal, and no entreaties could obtain for them the least pittance of aid, or one expression of pity. In cases where the penitent is treated with compassion and kindness, the idea how little they deserve it wrings the heart, and it is often necessary, from various considerations, to keep them at a distance from the home which they have dishonoured; and instead of their being spoken of in those affectionate terms which call up absent friends to the respect and the love of the young, their names are never mentioned, but with that cold reserve which indicates the wish that it was possible to forget them. "I have closed the door of a father's house against me," is the bitterest reflection of an earthly kind which the heart can make.

The pardoned are often visited also with sickness and disappointments. Infirmities of body and sharp attacks of pain are often the sad remembrancers of deeds of folly, and they have complained like Hezekiah, "He will cut me off with pining sickness; I reckoned

that as a lion he will break all my bones." They see others healthy and vigorous, mingling in every cheerful scene, and fit for every enterprise; while they are feeble and sore broken, the victims of nervous inquietude and corroding pain. The best laid schemes are disappointed, their most zealous efforts are fruitless, their substance wastes in spite of every precaution of economy, and their business declines in spite of every effort to maintain and extend it. It is indeed agonizing when the anger of God is felt in the pang of disease, and when in worldly calamities this sad reflection is forced on the heart, "Behold the fruit of sin." The scorn and ill-usage of the world are often directed against those who have been renewed to repentance. However worthy their subsequent conduct may prove them to be of general confidence, yet, in consequence of their former deviation, some will think it wise to withhold it. Amidst all their claims to public respect, malignity will detail, with a minuteness which shows that she will not suffer oblivion to cover aught that will make a fellow creature unhappy, 'the indiscretions of their youth. They see others rising to situations from which they are kept back, and have the mortifying reflection that these might have been their stations of wealth and distinction, if it had not been for their own misconduct. They have seen the spirits of their children broken through a parent's shame, and their prospects blasted, and their morals undervalued, in consequence of the sins and follies of those who gave them birth. This is neither candid nor just; nay, it is in men ungenerous and cruel; but it is, as coming from God, the righteous correction of iniquity.

The last mode which I shall specify in which the pardoned have been chastened is by acute sufferings in death. A peaceful

dismission from the world is a great blessing to the dying, and an unspeakable consolation to the attending friends. It is most distressing to behold a beloved friend labouring under agony which we cannot alleviate, and to hear from him groans which we can only answer by the sobs of unavailing pity. Some, as a correction for their faults, are brought down to the grave by severe agony, which allows them not one moment's ease, and which no power of medicine can assuage. In some cases this anguish has been borne far from the sight and the help of friends. They think it would lighten their sufferings if they saw them and felt the power of their pitying looks, and of their voice of consolation; but they must die, with no face of love near them, on which to fix their last look, and no hand of love near them which they might grasp as they were sinking into eternity. It is when tribulation worketh patience, and when the person dying in such circumstances is led to say, "I am now receiving the last stroke of my father's rod, and why should a dying man complain while enduring the punishment of his sins?"

It is easy to trace the reasons why God acts in this manner to those whom he forgives. Were sin to be pardoned wihout any token of God's displeasure against it, it would not be believed that it was so repugnant to his nature, and so offensive to his sight. The narratives of his vengeance on offenders of old would be treated as idle tales, or it would be thought that the rigour of the former dispensation had completely passed away, and that we were now to be treated with unlimited indulgence. Those severities are necessary to show that amidst the grace of the gospel, God will by no means clear the guilty, and that impunity can no more be granted now than before. It is amidst such scenes that