this description are the following: 1. The number of dependents on public charity is increased. Not only intemperate persons themselves are reduced to poverty; but they train up their families in the same way, and fit them to become public burdens. It is surprising to find how great a proportion of our paupers are brought to their dependent state by intemperance.

2. Hard drinking occasions much sickness, with all its attendant expenses.

3. The same cause operates to bring up the rising generation in a state of habitual idleness. Scarcely any thing has such a disheartening effect on children, as to see their father's labor and their own squandered in purchasing the means of their own and their father's dishonor.

4. All the impoverishing consequences of habitual drunkenness are to be set down to this account. Among these are a great waste of property by negligence, the expenses of law suits, and the loss of time and character taken up in managing

them. I say loss of character; for this is frequently a loss of money.

It will be remembered, that I have conducted this examination with a scle view to the pecuniary disadvantages incurred by the unnecessary consumption of ardent spirits. It is impossible, however, not to ask, If these disadvantages are so great, what must be the extent of the moral evils by which they are attended? How great must be the anxiety, the shame and mortification brought upon the innocent members of suffering families? What must be the progress in profaneness, lightmindedness, and disregard of religion? Let those who are acquainted with the cause and its usual operation answer these questions.

The uses to be made of this discussion will be stated, God willing, at some future time. If the facts and conclusions here exhibited are important, let me request the reader to bear them in mind, till that time shall arrive.

BENEVOLUS.

'WHEN I peruse the writings of my younger years I find the footsteps of an unfurnished mind, of emptiness, and insufficiency; yet, of those points which I then thoroughly studied, my judgment is the same now as then, and therefore in the substance of my re,

ligion, and in such controversies as I then searched into with some extraordinary diligence, I find not my mind disposed to change. But in divers points that I studied slightly, and in many things which I took upon trust from others, I have since found my

apprehensions either erroneous or very defective: and those things which I was orthodox in, I had either insufficient reasons for, or a mixture of some sound and some insufficient ones; or else an insufficient apprehension of those reasons; so that I scarce ly knew what I seemed to know: and one common infirmity I perceive in my writings, namely, that I put forth matters with some kind of confidence, as if I had done something new or more than ordinary in them, when, upon my mature review, I find that I said not one half which the subject required: and the reason was, that I had not read any of the fuller sort of books that are written on the points I treated of, nor conversed with those who knew more than myself; and so all those things were either new or great to me, which were common, and perhaps small, to others: and, because they all came in by my own study of the naked matter, and not from books, they were apt to affect my mind the more, and to seem greater than they were. And another token of weakness is discernible in my early works, namely, that I was very apt to start controversies in my practical writings, and also more desirous to acquaint the world with all I took to be truth, and to assault those books by name which I thought unsound: and the reason of all this was, that I was then in the vigor of my youthful apprehensions, and the new appearance of any sacred truth was more apt to affect me, and to be more valued, than afterwards, when commonness had dulled my delight; and I did not then sufficiently discern how much of controversy

is verbal, and upon mutual mistakes. And withal I knew not how impatient divines were of being contradicted; and how it would stir up all their power to defend what they had once said, and rise against the truth which is thus thrust upon them, as the mortal enemy of their honor: and I have perceived that nothing so much hindereth the recep tion of the truth, as urging it on men with too harsh importunity, and falling too heavily upon their errors; for hereby you engage their credit in the business, and they defend their errors as themselves. In controversies, it is opposition which kindles a resisting zeal; whereas, if they be neglected, and their opinions lie awhile neglected, they usually cool and come again to themselves: though this holds not when a sectary is animated by the greediness and increase of his followers. Men are so loth to be drenched with the truth, that I am more for going that way to work; and, to confess the truth, am lately much prone to the contrary extreme, so as to be too indifferent what men hold, and to keep my judgment to myself; and I find this effect is mixed according to its causes, which are some good and some bad; the bad ones, are, 1. An impatience of men's weakness and mistaking frowardness and self-conceit: 2. An abatement of my sensible esteem of truth, through the long abode of it on my mind.

The better causes are, 1. That I am more sensible than ever of the necessity of living upon the principles of relig ion which we are all agreed in, and uniting these; and how much mischief men that over.

value their own opinions have done the Church; how some have destroyed charity, and others caused schism, and most have hindered serious godliness in themselves and others, and used controversy to divert men from seriously following a holy life. 2. And I find that it is much more for most men's good, to converse with them only in that way of godliness where all are agreed, and not touching upon differences to stir up their corruptions; and to tell them of little more of your knowledge than you find them willing to receive from you as mere learners; and therefore to stay till they crave information of you; as Musculus did with the Anabaptists, when he visited them in prison, conversing kindly with them, and shewing them all the love he could, and never talking about their opinions, til at last, they, who used to call him a deceiver, entreated him to teach them, and received his instruction. We mistake men's diseases when we think there needs nothing to cure their errors, but only to bring them the evidence of truth. Alas! there are many distempers of mind to be removed, before men are able to receive that evidence. In a learning way men are ready to receive truth, but in a disputing way they come armed against it with prejudice and animosity. In my youth I was quickly past my fundamentals, and greatly delighted with metaphysics (though my preaching was still on the necessary points;) but the older I grew, the smaller stress I laid upon matters of controversy, as finding far greater uncertainties in them than I at first saw; and

now it is the plain doctrines of the Catechism which I most value, and daily think of, and find most useful to myself and others. The Creed, the Lord's Prayer, and the Ten Commandments, do find me now the most plentiful and acceptable matter for all my meditations: they are to me as my daily bread; and as I can speak and write of them over and over again, so I had rather hear or read of them, than of any of the school niceties, which once so much pleased me. And thus I observed it was with old Bishop Usher, and with many others; and I conjecture that this effect also is mixed of good and bad according to its causes. The bad cause may perhaps be some natural infirmity. As trees in the spring shoot vigorously, but in autumn the life retires to the root; so possibly, my nature, conscious of its infirmity, may find itself insufficient for great things, and so my mind may descend to the root of Christian principles: and also I have often been afraid lest illrooting at first, and many temptations afterwards, have made it more necessary for me than many others to secure my fundamentals. But upon much observation, I am afraid lest most others are in no better a case; and that at first they take it for granted that Christ is the Savior of the world, that the soul is immortal, and that there is a heaven and a hell, &c. while they are studying abundance of scholastic superstructures, and at last will find cause to study more soundly their religion itself, as well as I have done. The better causes are these: 1. I valwe all these according to their

in a holy life, comes from the imperfection of their belief in a life to come. For my part I must confess, that when my belief of things eternal is most clear, all goeth accordingly in my soul; and all temptations to sinful compliances with the world and flesh signify worse to me than an invitation to the stocks or Bedlam: and no petition seems more necessary to me than, "Lord, I believe, help thou my unbelief.”

In my younger years my trouble for sin was most about my actual failings in thought, word, and action; except hardness of heart, of which more hereafter. But now I am much more troubled for inward defects, and omission or want of the vital duties or graces in the soul. My daily trouble is so much for my ignorance of God, want of love to him, and strangeness to the life to come, and for want of greater willingness to die, and longing to be in heaven,that I take not some immoralities, though very great, to be in themselves so great and odious sins, if they could be found separate from these. Had I all the world, how gladly would I give it for a fuller knowledge, and belief, and love of God. Once I placed much of my religion in tenderness of heart, and sorrow for sin, and less of it in the study of the love of God, and in his praises, than I now do. I was little sensible of the greatness and excellency of love and praise, though I coldly spake the same words in its commendation which I now do. And now I am less troubled for want of grief and tears, (though I more value humility, and refuse not needful humiliation:) but my VOL. IV. New Series.

conscience now looketh at love of and delight in God, and praising him, as the height of my religious duties, for which it is that I value and use the rest. My judgment is more for frequent and serious meditation on the heavenly state than it was once. I then thought that a sermon on the attributes of God and the joys above was not the most excellent; and used to say, every body knows that God is great, and heaven a blessed place; I had rather hear how I may attain it.

And nothing

pleased me so well as the doctrine of regeneration, and the marks of sincerity; which indeed was suitable to me in that state; but now I had rather meditate, hear, and read, on God and heaven, than on any other subject. For I perceive that it is the object that alters and elevates the mind, which will be as that is on which it habitually feeds; and that it is not only to our comfort to be much in heaven in our thoughts, but that it must animate all other duties, and fortify us against all temptations, and that a man is no more a Christian than he is heavenly. I was once wont to meditate most on my own heart, and look little higher; but now, though I am greatly convinced of the necessity of heart-acquaintance, yet I see more need of a higher work: and that I should look oftener upon Christ and heaven, than upon my own heart. At home I find distempers to trouble me, and some evidences of my peace: but it is above I must find matter of delight. I would, therefore, have one thought upon myself, and many on beautifying objects. Formerly, I knew

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