of religious discourse, and the necessity of this sacred modesty. In a letter, dated St. Peter's Day, 1693, (page 168 of the Edit. 1829) he says:→

"There is particularly one thing that I have started in discourse, which I intended, when I got leisure, to speak of more at large in writing; and that was, about outward expressions of piety. I confess, as to myself, I have been always reserved in them; such, I ween, as were easily imitable by persons of any sort ; as lifting up the hands and eyes, godly words, and expressions of endearment concerning GOD. Since I have conversed with you, I have spoken more of these things than ever I did before; but I have complied with it only towards you. Now the case, I think, is this; it is our duty, on fit occasions, to declare ourselves publicly for GOD, and for the cause of His holy religion, when it may be for His glory, and the edification of others; and the engaging and riveting ourselves in His service, by setting the eyes of the world upon us, and making them witnesses against us, if we swerve or falter from our professions. But then, this ought to be done by some solid, essential expressions of true piety, which none, indeed, but those that are truly pious can attain to; such as a gracious countenance, an humble mien, an unaffected modesty, and a cheerful and sincere frankness in declaring that we are the servants of GOD, and devoted to Him; or speaking words drawn from the soul of piety, which amount to such a declaration as those of the Apostle: If any man love not the LORD JESUS, let him be accursed.' But then, these words must not be borrowed from others, or even from Scripture itself, but originally our own; for any one may speak good sentences by rote. There are some expressions that tend not so much to show a devotedness to GOD, or resolutions or desires to serve Him, as our nearness to Him. are carefully to be avoided; for they tend too much to heighten a good opinion of ourselves; are apt to move envy or censure; and may happen in some measure to deprive us of that nearness, by casting a little damp upon our consciences, and causing GOD to withdraw His favours; such are accounts of transports and elevations that God gives us in His service; and very endearing expressions in mentioning of GOD; as, my dearest LORD, my sweet JESUS, my loving FATHER, instead of saying only GOD; which I have heard some persons use upon too ordinary occasions, when one could not well suppose that they had a present lively sense and feeling at their heart, of what they spoke, answerable to the height of the words; for none can have a sense in their hearts, adequate to such words as these, but it will put them into a transport, which will either express itself in a flood of tears, or in silence, and hinder them from readily going on with other talk. There are other expressions, which are the language of our hearts immediately to God Himself; and it is ill to use ourselves to speak or write these, but when our hearts indeed go along with them, and have intercourse with GOD. But it is hard to suppose, when we use them too frequently, our hearts can always go along with them: and this gives matter of offence to good people, and is a prejudice to ourselves; for if we use to speak such words as ought to be spoke only to Gop Himself, without speaking them, indeed, to

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Him with our hearts, it will certainly indispose our hearts to speak to Him in those words when we would: because we shall get a way of speaking such things by rote, and not be able to discern when, indeed, we speak to GOD, and when we do not."

The intention of this Tract may perhaps best be shown by some examples of persons who have thought it requisite naturally to observe such reserve in their own conduct, or have noticed it in others. The following striking instances are from Mrs. Schimmelpenninck's "Tour to Alet," and "Memoirs of Port Royal." M. Lancelot remarks of M. Pavillon, Bishop of Alet :

"The Bishop possesses the art of directing discourse usefully, without constraint. He never forces the subject, but always gives, even to the most remote, a tincture of his own piety. His conversation appears to me a true model of social intercourse, directed by Christian piety and spiritual wisdom."

"He equally avoids the error of those worldlings who always shun religion, and of those unwise religionists, who, by making it the sole subject of discourse, are often led into formality and hypocrisy. Here is no religious chit-chat. He never utters a sacred truth, without appearing deeply penetrated with the awful reality."-Vol. I. p. 53. Second Edit. 1816.

"When with those whose religious sentiments permit him freely to unfold, then, indeed, his lips seemed touched with a living coal from the altar."

"I have often seen his hearers wrapt in astonishment and awe at the apostolic zeal and sanctity with which he declared divine truths, in the name of Him who sent him."

"His wisdom, information, and good sense, render his conversation instructive on all subjects. Yet it is evident this is the one on which his heart dilates, and that this is the point in which all his other studies centre. Though not always conversing on religion, it is at all times apparent, that it is the medium through which he views every other thing; and I think his deep piety is almost as perceptible in the spirituality with which he speaks of temporal things, as in the wisdom which he displays in spiritual ones. Every subject on which he discourses, I might almost say every sentence which he utters, receives a tincture from his piety. The Spirit dwelling in the heart, as on an altar, sanctifies in some sort whatever gift has been upon it, and imparts to it as acred character. His piety so modifies his learning that the most religious might edify; and his learning so adorns his piety, that the most sceptical might be convinced."

"Contrary to the manner of some, he seldom speaks of religion to determined infidels. But, where it is possible, he rather joins in their subject of discourse, only speaking in a Christian spirit. The unbelief of the head,' he says, 'is mostly founded in the enmity of the heart' he therefore thinks the persuasion of the affections ought to co-operate with the conviction of the judgment. On

this account he thinks it most judicious, to let them feel the excellency of Christianity in its practical effects, before he recommends it as a general principle."

"When he speaks to those who ask his advice, he is very careful to address each one according to his own degree of light. He thinks the work is often ruined by indiscreetly urging persons beyond the step the Divine Spirit is then pointing out to the conscience."

"M. d'Alet has often in his mouth that text, 'Cast not your pearls before swine.' Though far indeed from comparing any individual of his fellow creatures to those animals, yet he often calls the experience of CHRIST's love, 'His people's pearls,' and says, 'they should not be lightly cast before those who will not only trample them under foot, but who will endeavour by turning upon Christians with futile sophisms, to rend their peace and comfort.' He rather advises, that the common experiences of men,' such as convictions of sin, repentance, &c. be dwelt on, till the fallow ground is fully broken up and prepared to receive the seed of the kingdom."

"What I have seen at Alet, has convinced me that it is much more common and easy to speak well on religion, than to speak of temporal things at all times in a religious spirit."—Ibid. p. 55, &c.

"He attends with the greatest love and patience, all those who open to him their spiritual wants. He, however, wishes to accustom them rather to seek aid of GOD, than of men. In this respect, he follows the examples of M. de St. Cyran, of St. Austin, and of St. John. He thinks the practice of constantly unbosoming ourselves to men, creates religious gossiping, and extinguishes vital piety; and accustoms young believers to consider men as more necessary to them than GOD."—Ibid. p. 73.

The following are remarks of M. Lancelot, upon the Abbé de St. Cyran; "We often wished that M. de St. Cyran could have had a person continually with him to note down all his actions, and to pourtray all his holy discourses, his eminent virtues, and even the eloquence of his silence, which has so often spoken to our hearts. GOD, however, no doubt for wise purposes, has not permitted it. Perhaps, indeed, it might not be a thing so easily done. The most eminent graces, like the deepest rivers, generally pursue a silent course. They possess in degree, the peace, and immutability of their Divine Author. It is immediately felt in its effects, though it cannot be described in its source. It is that powerful and constant effusion of the SPIRIT of GOD which transforms the heart of the new man, and continually abides therein: which does not dazzle by brilliant and remarkable actions, so much as it imparts a living unction and a godlike dignity to the most common ones. It produces throughout the whole soul, mind, and heart, a certain simplicity, profound peace, gentle love, and immutable calmness, that charms and elevates the heart of the observer, though he scarcely knows why. He is filled with awful reverence in contemplating the whole, whilst he is yet unable to discover any thing extraordinary in each part. As to its effects, the perfection of saints on

earth is, perhaps, more perceptible in what they do not, than in what they actually do."

"So far as it may be said of man in his fallen state, it consists in a perfect silence of all human passions, and a total extinction of every movement of earthly pleasures and desires. The silence of the man of GOD differs from the tumult of the world, as the still expanse of the ocean differs, and yet exceeds, in sublimity, a roaring summer torrent which lays waste all in its way, and disappears for ever. It consists in that spotless holiness which is best comprehended when we contrast with it our own disorder and impurity. It is a participation on earth of the happiness of the blessed in heaven. It is the beginning of that ineffable union with GOD, which, though begun on earth, can only be consummated in Heaven. Happy, indeed, are those to whom it has pleased the LORD to exhibit such models of virtue. Yea, rather, more blessed are those, that hearing, keep their sayings!"—Ibid. p. 236, &c.

The deep feelings of awe expressed in the following passage will doubtless be seen to have no very indirect bearing on the subject.

"An observation frequently made by M. Arnauld might peculiarly be ap plied to the M. Angelique. Ile used often to say, 'that the death-bed of young converts is generally most bright: because their newly acquired sense of the mercy of GOD, in some sort dazzles their eyes from steadily beholding His holiness;' and he mostly added, 'the experienced Christian has too solid a view of the mercy of GOD, in CHRIST, not to rejoice; but he has too exalted views of the holiness of GOD, not to rejoice with trembling.'

"In the beginning of her illness, the awful part of the prospect seemed chiefly present with the venerable mother. Death was always before her. She spoke of nothing else, and thought of nothing else; so that she might almost have said with the Apostle, 'I die daily.' She was so penetrated with a sense of the infinite holiness of GOD, and of her own unworthiness, that she could not think without awe of the moment when her soul should appear in His presence."

"Believe me, my dear children," said she to her nuns, no one knows how unspeakably awful is death! nor can any person, yet afar off, form the least conception of what it is to stand on the brink of eternity. As for myself, I have had a serious sense of death before my eyes from my early years, and for above the last fifty years, I may say, it has continually been in my thoughts. But now that I stand at the very threshold, I find all my most serious thoughts and meditations as less than nothing, compared with the unspeakable awfulness of the reality of what I feel it to be at this hour. The anticipation of such a change as it now seems to me, would alone detach from every human pleasure and make every pain sit light. As the soul stands between time and eternity, ready to ascend to GOD, the earth itself sinks and dwindles into a mere speck, though she can more clearly discern the path she has passed through! How is it possible for a Christian to have any other pain or pleasure, or object of

occupation during all his life, than preparing himself for this awful hour!"Ibid. Vol. II. p. 255, &c.

The following extract from a private journal, may serve to show that a person who takes diligent and strict care of himself, may be naturally led to observe some rule of reserve in discoursing on subjects of religion, as a matter of practical wisdom and prudence. And it may be noticed that the person who makes these observations, was not only very remarkable for this reserve, as being a person of deep thought and strong affection, as has been noticed in the preface to the second part of his 'Remains,' but that he more than once calls himself to account, as will appear from this and other parts of his Journal, for speaking of what he calls oiynra. "Thus," he says, "by a sort of fatality I talked oíynra, which had the usual effect of unsettling my feelings." In the next page, "I talked with S. about Milton, I think bordering on σiynra.” -Froude's Remains, Vol. I. p. 37.

But the following passage speaks of the subject rather with reference to practical good sense in conversation than to offending against religious delicacy.

"An uncomfortable absurdity keeps hold of me, that my own opinions become false, when I allow contrary ones to be sported in my presence with impunity. Also it suggests itself to me that a wise thought is wasted when it is kept to myself: against which, as it is my most bothering temptation, I will set down some arguments to be called to mind in the time of trouble. In this day's lesson (Prov. xii. 23) there is, 'a prudent man concealeth knowledge.' Not allowing oneself to talk of an opinion, is one of the surest helps to acting upon it, as it will find some vent. Communicating it, is like opening the valve of a steam boiler. Besides, if other people assent to it in theory, while they contradict it in their way of life, it gives us a fresh difficulty to encounter in annexing to it its real force: seeing people take up with blank words, 'Salt that hath lost its savour,' is excessively infectious. But, supposing they do not assist, this can only serve to confuse and stagger us, and leave us dissatisfied with them and ourselves; I do not mean our attainments, for of them we cannot think too little, but of our views, of which we ought never to permit ourselves to doubt. The sensible plan would be, never to maintain an opinion contrary to the practice of others, unless we think we have sufficient weight with men to make them alter their likes and dislikes. But I am tired of making resolutions to be broken."-Ibid: p. 32.

A living writer has felt so strongly on the importance of this sacred modesty, that he has made it the subject of an entire poem: although, perhaps few have been aware how much he meant by it, or the full force of the sentiments of that hymn. It is too well known to render it allowable to quote the whole of it: but a consideration of it will add great weight to this Treatise; we allude to the "Fourth Sunday in Lent," in the Christian Year.