THE FEAR OF GOD.

PROVERBS, Xvi. 6.

By the fear of the Lord men depart from evil.

THE fear of the Lord in this sentence may possibly be used to express, generally, the principle of religion. And the sense may be, that this principle is the only one which will cause men to forsake evil; in other words, that a reverent regard to the Divine will is the only security for human virtue. And if the text be so understood, we are not here to consider the fear of God, as distinguished from the love of God: but, rather, as embracing all the feelings and motives, which tend to keep men separate from every thing which God disapproves.

Nevertheless, when we come to analyse this great principle, it is impossible to avoid the conviction, that the motive which drives men from what is evil, may be very distinct from that, which causes them to cleave to what is good. In the order of causes which act upon the human soul, the dread of the Divine displeasure frequently stands first. And its office is, to prepare the soul for the ation of higher and better feelings. In the first

oper

growth of the religious principle, fear is often the predominant motive, and its effect is to cause a movement from the way of destruction, towards the way of life. But a departure of the feet from evil is of little account, unless the heart abandon it also; and this it will seldom permanently and effectually do, until a more heavenly influence than that of fear has been shed abroad upon it. It will, therefore, hardly be thought a deviation from the views of the sacred writer, if we consider the "fear of the Lord" as distinct, on the one hand, from that disregard of Him, which marks the "children of this world;" and, on the other, from that pure and exalted love of Him which is the perfection of " the children of light."

With those, indeed, who claim the latter of these two characters, the fear of God, thus considered, is a subject that may have lost much of its solemn interest. Persons who have made some considerable advances towards Christian perfection are likely enough to be impatient of "again laying their foundation." The terrors of the Lord have long ceased to agitate them; and they are unwilling, perhaps, to look back upon the painful and humbling rudiments of their faith. And yet, I know not that this fastidiousness is the sign of a spirit that hath drank very deeply of heavenly things. It is well known that some of the holiest men*, as they ad

*"In my youth," says Baxter, "I was quickly past my ́undamentals, and was running up into a multitude of controversies, and greatly delighted with metaphysical and scholastic

vanced in years, have gladly stooped from their lofty and excursive flights, and have found no rest for the sole of their foot, but in the prime and simple verities of religion. The most worn and hacknied truths often speak to the hearts, which have been effectually roused from spritual death, a very different language from that which they convey to unawakened faculties. To the latter they are often dull as the proverbial tediousness of a twice-told tale. Nay, sometimes they may even have the effect of spreading over the soul a heavier spirit of slumber. To the others, they are always full of deep and solemn meaning, which no repetition can exhaust. A mind, on which the fear of the Lord has ever had its due operation, will no more recur to meditation on it, with weariness, than the miser will be weary of surveying the locks and the writings. But the older I grew, the smaller stress I laid upon these controversies and curiosities . . . as finding far greater uncertainties in them than I at first discovered, and finding less usefulness comparatively where there is the greatest certainty. And now it is the fundamental doctrines of the catechism, which I highliest value, and daily think of, and find most useful to myself and others. The Creed, the Lord's Prayer, the Ten Commandments do find me now the most acceptable and plentiful matter for all my meditations. They are to me as my daily bread and drink. And as I can speak and write of them over and over again, so I would 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 other men."-Extract from Baxter's Life, Wordsworth's Eccl. Biography, vol. v. pp. 164,

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bolts which guard his treasure from them that break through and steal. By such a mind it will never be forgotten that "the fear of the Lord is," at least," the beginning of wisdom;" of that wisdom whose fruit is better than gold, and whose revenue is more precious than the choicest silver.

But besides those to whom this text conveys no valuable instruction, there is another class, — more to be dreaded, and certainly much more to be pitied, who are disposed to censure it, as conveying an expression positively wrong. Reason is the power which persons of this stamp profess to worship; and Reason, as well as Religion, has, in all ages, had her bigots, and her fanatics. The present age has been by no means unfruitful in that " generation of vipers" (as the Baptist, were he now on earth, would probably describe them). And remarkable it is, how faithfully they copy the proceedings of the original tempter," that subtlest of all the beasts of the field." Their malice is guided by the true serpentine craft. They apply their seductions to the noblest faculties of man. They address themselves to his thirst after the knowledge of good and evil. They, accordingly, set at nought the Tree of Life; and they commend the Tree of Knowledge, as alone able to satisfy the cravings of an immortal spirit. And when the precious fruit hath been tasted, what is its effect?

"They fancy that they feel Divinity within them, breeding wings, Wherewith to scorn the earth."

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They are drunk, but not with wine!"

sorrow.

And in

their moments of delirium their talk is such, as fills all sober-minded persons with amazement and It may, however, be an instructive, though melancholy task, to note down the reveries to which they give utterance, in the dark season of their insanity.

The fear of the Lord, then, they spurn, as a motive infinitely beneath them. All fear, they tell us, is sordid and slavish. And all actions, which proceed from fear, must be sordid and slavish too. Men, therefore, are not to depart from evil, from the fear either of God or devil. They are to hear of no reason for departing from it, but a native abhorrence of its turpitude. All virtue, in short, is to be despaired of, which is not built on disinterested feeling; that is, on a complete independence either of punishment or reward.

Now we have, here, neither more nor less than a practical system of Atheism, though muffled up in a disguise which, at first sight, has the semblance of something noble and imposing. For after taking away the fear of God, what safeguard have we left for the integrity of man? They tell us, indeed, that man is never without two faithful and trustworthy guides. On his right hand, is his moral sense, his perception of right and wrong. On his left, is his sense of what is useful and expedient. And to these guides and supporters he may safely be consigned; and this, without the slightest reference to the will, or the power of an Almighty Judge.