of their conclusion. Sin may be regarded as a disease of the soul, for which religion undertakes to provide a remedy. Now the wise and skilful physician will observe attentively the peculiar state of his patient, and select and administer his medicines accordingly. But the ignorant quack makes no distinction between strength and weakness, vigour and debility. He has some one "universal medicine," to which he ascribes the most miraculous and impossible effects, and this he gives to all his patients indiscriminately, however numerous and varied their complaints may be. Now the creed-maker is just the soul's quack doctor. He is continually advertising his infallible nostrum, and publishing the most ridiculous absurdities regarding its efficacy. His little creed contains (if he is to be credited) the whole essence of Christianity, extracted and made up in morsels which may be safely administered to a child, and yet are able to satisfy a man. His creed will cure every species of disease to which the spirit of man is liable. It will remove the little faults of the child's pure soul; it will restore to innocence and renew in purity the debased heart of the hoary sinner. There is a satirical anecdote, which we have somewhere met in a medical journal, that illustrates the efficiency of creed-medicine. "An unfortunate man was killed by the explosion of a steam boiler; his limbs were torn asunder, and his body dashed in fragments, when luckily one of the spectators administered a few of Morison's infallible Pills,' and the man recovered, his limbs reunited, and he walked off perfectly cured." In proof of this fact, reference is made to the Mayor and Aldermen of London, her Majesty's Government, and all Members of Parliament who were eye-witnesses of the cure.

Now this is not one whit more absurd, than the stories daily published of the marvellous efficacy of creeds. Though the moral feelings be torpid, or even dead, though the soul be so degraded and debased, that neither truth nor honour can dwell in it; nay, though sin still continues to hold undisputed dominion in the heart, yet the Calvinistic preacher affirms, that if the sinner will only swallow his quack medicine, he shall be made whole; if he will only assent to an orthodox creed, the shattered members of his moral nature will be reunited, and he will instantly be gifted with the quality of saintship; in which case, he is

sure of eternal happiness, let him act as he pleases. The truth is, that to obtain the favour of God, and enjoy the pure and spiritual blessedness of Heaven, we must, with the aids of the Holy Spirit, educate our souls into a fitness for receiving them. The deep-rooted and obstinate disease of sin, will not yield to incantations and charms, to creeds or quack medicines: these but aggravate the complaint; it can only be removed by a course of sanatory regimen and exercise, a regimen in which sin shall have no place, and a vigorous exercise of the moral powers of the soul, in resisting every temptation and discharging every duty. Uniformity in truth is a vain fancy, for truth and knowledge are synonymous, and of knowledge the degrees are infinite; but uniformity in falsehood is indeed attainable, and if this species of uniformity be desirable, we know of no means more efficacious to produce it, than that of compelling all men to subscribe to the absurd and mystical creed of a darker age.

FAITH OF THE HEART.

(From the Unitarian Miscellany.)

ED.

How is our religious faith to be regulated? How are we to be preserved from error, where error may be so fatal, and where truth is surely so desirable? Is there no general rule, which, though it may admit of a great variety and difference of opinion, will yet guard us against fundamental mistake, and guide us to a faith, which shall have the best influence on our lives and conversations?

Such a rule is given by St. Paul in a few words. With the heart, says he, man believeth unto righteousness. Here we are told, that if a man would believe unto righteousness, that is, if he would have his belief terminate in those moral and spiritual qualifications which God will accept and bless, he must believe with his heart; we are told, that the only principles on which we can place a well-grounded reliance, are those whose foundation is the heart; that the only religion, which will effectually assist and console us, is the religion of the heart; that the only faith which will save us, is the faith of the heart.

He does not mean, however, to intimate by these words, that the Christian religion is, or that any religion should

be, a religion of the affections alone. Undirected by reason, the affections will pursue a devious and uncertain course. They will neither know at what point to commence, nor at what limits to stop. They may easily begin with a captivating error, or, if they begin in truth, they may end in absurdity. A tenet may be a very gentle, a very affectionate, and still a very visionary one. It may sue for adoption to some of the best feelings of our nature, and yet reason may sternly and justly forbid its being adopted. A tenet also, though originally unobjectionable, may be so tampered with, when taken up by ardent feeling, as to lose its primitive and manly character, and forget its acquaintance with sense and truth. What then is meant by the faith of the heart?

By the faith of the heart, is to be understood, in the first place, a faith which does not terminate in speculation. By the religion of the heart, is to be understood a vital religion, a religion which lives, and breathes, and moves, and acts; which prompts the virtues, and regulates the conduct; a religion which tells the heart to beat, whenever the blessed names and offices of integrity, purity, and justice, are recited; which commands the affections to fly whereever there is a tear flowing which they can wipe away, or a bosom bleeding which they can bind, or a care which they can render lighter by their support, or a sorrow which they can alleviate by their sympathy; a religion which bids its votaries lift a reverent and grateful eye to the Creator for his ceaseless and unspeakable bounties, and then look down again on the world, and endeavour to deserve them.

To believe with the heart, is not merely to give a cold assent of the head to any truths, however grand, or however important they may be; but it is to feel their influence, and bow to their authority. Good principles may be received, and then forgotten; but he who believes with his heart, will not only receive, but retain them, keep them in his heart, and oppose them whenever there is occasion, to the temptations of the world. Some there are, who think it sufficient that they have turned their attention to religion on certain occasions, and honestly subscribed a form of faith, as far as they comprehended it, once in their lives. Further examination or reflection they conceive to be unnecessary. But, in the mean time, principles of the most insidious nature, and pernicious tendency, are suf

fered to enter the bosom unobserved; all the common motives and low-born interests of the world are permitted to work unchecked and unheeded; and when at last it is found out, on a death-bed perhaps, that the first love has departed, and that the duties which it should and would have performed, have been left untouched, the discovery is made too late, for the time of duty is over, and that of retribution is at hand. But they who believe with the heart, acquire a habit of recalling, at will, those principles which they have once acknowledged to be true, and to renew those impressions which they have ever found to be beneficial; and thus they prevent the admission or continuance of other principles, and opposite impressions. Their faith is always by them. In the world it will defend, comfort, cheer, support—and in heaven it will crown them.

The belief of the heart is not speculative, short-lived, inefficient. It is sincere, it is operative, it admits of no wavering, it is not laid aside in prosperity, it does not droop in adversity, it is not lost amidst the cares of life, it is not forgotten in the business of the world.

Again, to believe with the heart is to make our opinions invariably respect the good affections of our nature, and to admit no principles which are opposed to them; - not indeed to be guided by the heart, but never to offer any violence to its dictates. There is no heresy so dangerous, as that which rebels against the innocent and regulated feelings of humanity. There is no schism so dreadful, as that which breaks away from the communion and companionship of the heart. There is no belief so widely unchristian and unsound, as that which would, in the least degree, contribute to weaken or to sever the bonds of society, and the ties of neighbourhood, friendship, and affection. That counsel is of Moloch, and not of God, which proclaims a war upon charity and love. Faith is never glad when Feeling weeps; Religion never speaks of duty to a shuddering bosom; and Christianity disclaims the power which Nature would recoil to exercise.

Let mystics, and bigots, and selfish men, dream, and rave, and calculate as they please, we hold it to be a truth as sacred and eternal as the truth of the Almighty One himself, that the creed which narrows the walk of the affections, and shuts the heart against any kindly influence, which represses one charitable thought, or prevents one

gentle word, must have a corrupting spot of rottenness at its core. Wise men and great men may receive it, and good men may think that they believe it, but it is not, and cannot be, a pure Christian creed; it is not of the heart, of the Saviour, nor of God.

Thirdly, to believe with the heart is to believe ardently, warmly, deeply. It is to perform the duties which religion enjoins, as if we took a pleasure in them; to go about the commands of God, not as if our work was a drudgery, which nevertheless we did not dare to refuse, but a privilege and an honour, with which we should be thankful for being entrusted. To believe with the heart is to enter affectionately, willingly, and at once, into any province of action, as into the sphere which is marked out for us by a Father whom we entirely love.

This is the faith which mounts up in the bosom, a bright and steady flame; not to lay it waste, nor wither any good thing which grows there, but, like the fire which burns on the domestic hearth, to diffuse a vital heat throughout the circle of its influence, while the best affections gather round it, and all the social virtues feel themselves at home.

Let any one study to make this FAITH OF THE HEART his own, and he may be sure that it will be "accounted to him for righteousness." He will have no reason to fear the charge of heresy, nor to be troubled in his mind because some things appear difficult and obscure. He has attained the great secret of life, the great mystery of religion, the great end of revelation. He may rank himself with any sect, and still be no sectarian; he may stand apart from all of them, and yet be accounted no sceptic. His doubts have subsided into tranquillity, his fears have given place to confidence, and his inquiries have been followed by an answer of peace.

He feels the emptiness of petty distinctions, and the worthlessness of mere names; and from amidst all the confusion of contrary opinions, and noise of clamorous disputants around him, he looks forward with humble trust to that august and final tribunal, where it will not be asked what leader he had followed, nor what church he had joined, but what his heart had hallowed, and what his hands had done.