CHAPTER XVI. AFTER Stephanas had finished his relation, the pilgrims re tired to rest; and in the morning went on their way. Then 1 observed that their way was smooth and easy to their feet, and the air of the valley was refreshing and invigorating to their spirits. And as they went along, they sung: "Great God! how infinite art thou! "Thy throne eternal ages stood, "Eternity, with all its years, Stands present in thy view; "Our lives thro' various scenes are drawn While thine eternal thought moves on "Great God! how infinite art thou! What worthless worms are we! Then I observed that just as they had finished their song, a man came into the road, with a very pleasant countenance, and said: Charming lines-charming lines those are, which you were singing and well befitting this charming valley. It does my heart good to see pilgrims passing through this valley, and hear them singing the praises of their Lord and King. Thoughtful. It becomes us, indeed, to praise our Lord and King, for he is a great and good being, and worthy to be loved and praised by all intelligent creatures. Man. Yes; a great and good being, truly: and we can never love him enough. He is so kind to us, and is daily bestowing so many favors upon us, that we must be very ungrateful if we do not love and praise him. Ard. He is, indeed, bestowing many and great blessings. upon us, of which we are most undeserving; and a sense of his great goodness to us ought to humble us the more. Man. True; we are very unworthy; and therefore we should love him the more for his great love to us, unworthy as we are. Th. A deep sense of our unworthiness, and of the great mercies bestowed on us by our Lord and King, will not fail to fill our hearts with gratitude to him, if we feel as we ought, But I apprehend there are other reasons why we should love him besides his kindness to us. Man. O yes. His kindness to us is the best evidence of his goodness; but his kindness to our friends ought not to be forgotten, nor his kindness to the whole human race. There are, as you say, other reasons why we should love him, besides his kindness to us. Th. His kindness to others will not fail to affect our hearts, if we love our neighbor as ourselves; but I alluded to the excellence of his character. I think we ought to love him for what he is in himself. Man. Certainly; so I think. We ought to love him for what he is in himself. But he has told us what he is in himself: he is Love. He revealed himself to Moses, as "the Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity, and transgression and sin." He is good, and his goodness renders him worthy to be loved and praised. Th. That is true. It is his goodness that renders him worthy to be loved and praised. But his goodness is as really exercised in punishing some, as it is in bestowing mercy upon others. When he made the proclamation before Moses, of which you have recited a part, he did it in fulfilment of the promise, "I will make all my goodness pass before thee." And besides what you have quoted, he said also, "and that will by no means clear the guilty;" so that punishing the guilty is a manifestation of his goodness too; and we ought to love him for his goodness in punishing sin, as really as we do for his goodness in pardoning it. Man. I perceive we shall not disagree at all. It was indeed an expression of his kindness to the Israelites to destroy Pharaoh and his host in the Red Sea; and they could praise him for this as well as for opening the sea to let them pass through. Th. I think that the greatest reason the Israelites had to praise God for destroying the Egyptians at the Red Sea was, that it was a display of his glorious justice upon the Egyptians; and not merely because it was a deliverance to them. Man. Yes, yes; you are right; I agree with you perfectly. It gives me great pleasure to meet and converse with pilgrims; and it would be gratifying to me, if you would call at my house and refresh yourselves. I reside a little further on, and keep a house for the entertainment of pilgrims. Th. We have no occasion to stop, having lodged last night at the house of Stephanas, in this valley; and we wish to have the day before us, that we may get through the next valley before night. Man. At the house of Stephanas? He is a very good man, and keeps an excellent house. I like him very much as a neighbor, and agree with him very well in my sentiments. Th. I have heard of some who agree with every man they meet, and appear to have no opinion of their own on any subject. Man. And you must allow that it is a very pleasant circumstance, when we can agree with those with whom we happen to be. Union is certainly a very pleasant thing. Th. Yes; but when union is procured at the expense of truth and a good conscience, it costs more than it is worth. Man. O yes. I agree with you there too. A good conscience is to be maintained. But I am so happy as to be of that disposition, that I can accommodate myself to my company, without doing any violence to my conscience. I have learned of the great apostle, "to be made all things to all men;" and by this exercise of Christian condescension, I secure the friendship of all. Th. Yes; I have heard of you. Your name is Any-thing. You have no fixed principles at all, unless it is the supreme love of yourself. You wish to be esteemed and caressed by every body; and to gain that end you accommodate yourself to every one's opinions, pretending to think just as those do with whom you happen to be. You call it Christain condescension; but it is gross hypocrisy. And you abuse the apostle when you quote his condescension in things which were in themselves indifferent, to justify you in regarding every thing as indifferent. You flatter yourself that by these means you secure the friendship of all; but, indeed, you do not secure the lasting friendship of any one. For when good or bad men find out your double dealing, they all despise you. Man. Oh, you are quite uncharitable. But I am in haste; so, good-bye. Then he turned off, on the left hand, to his house, which stood a little out of the way. And Ardent said to his companion: Were you not a little too hard upon him, brother? He seemed to talk very well. Th. He showed his selfishness plainly enough, while at the same time he discovered his strong desire to please us, by trying to make us think he agreed with us in every thing. And as fast as he discovered my sentiments, he altered his statements, so as to make them come nearer to mine. I abhor such double dealing. Ard. Is it not generally thought a mark of politeness to seem to yield a little of our statements, in order to accommodate them to the sentiments of those with whom we happen to be? Th. It may, perhaps, be generally thought so; but the great question ought to be, whether it is honest. A Christian must be a man of integrity; and I do not see how it can be consistent with integrity, to talk one way at one time, and the contrary at another, just according to our company. I cannot think it is any thing else than the basest hypocrisy, to talk in favor of certain opinions with one man, and against them with another, merely to please them and gain their favor. Ard. Is it not sometimes practised, to some extent, by good men, in order to increase their influence, and in that way their opportunity to do good? Th. I have known some, that I could not but hope were, on the whole, good men, who appeared to me to commit a great deal of sin in this way. We are not to do evil that good may come. And besides, this policy must sooner or later defeat its own end. For, when men discover that this is the practice of any one, it destroys their confidence in every thing he says. They perceive that he is more desirous of gaining their favor than he is of maintaining truth; and they despise him for it. Honesty is always the best policy, in the end. When a man is known to speak nothing but what is strictly true, and to express no sentiments but what he honestly believes, his word will be depended on; and even those who do not like his sentiments will respect him for his integrity. By this time I perceived that the pilgrims were about to enter the valley of the Shadow of Death; at the sight of which they felt their spirits sink, and a degree of gloom to come over their minds. Then Thoughtful plucked out his book, and read therein as follows: "The Lord is my rock and my fortress, and my deliverer, my God, my strength, in whom I will trust my buckler and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower. I will call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised so shall I be saved from mine enemies. The Lord is my light, and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? Yea, though I walk through the valley of the Shadow of Death, will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.' Then I observed that they went on with more courage, carefully taking heed to their feet, lest they should fall into the ditch, on the one hand, or into the quagmire on the other. And the better to keep up their spirits, they sung: "Lord, what a wretched land is this, No cheering fruits, no wholesome trees, "Yet the dear path to thine abode Lord, we would keep the heavenly road, "A thousand savage beasts of prey But Judah's Lion guards the way, "Long nights and darkness dwell below, But the bright world to which we go, "By glimmering hopes and gloomy fears, We trace the sacred road, Through dismal deeps and dangerous snares, We make our way to God." Then said "Wait on So Thoughtful went before, and Ardent, being more afraid, followed close behind him. Then said Ardent, What a dismal place this is: I fear I shall never get through it. Thoughtful, Let us remember the divine direction, the Lord; be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thy heart; wait I say on the Lord." So they cried unto him that is able to help, and kept on their way, till they came towards the place near which was the mouth of the pit, and thought they heard most dismal groanings, and wailings of those that were tormented. And while Ardent was listening to these, his foot slipped, and he got into the quagmire, where he had probably sunk, had not his brother Thoughtful taken him by the hand, and helped him out. Oh, said Ardent, I shall perish here; I shall never get out of this dreadful place. I shall never see the Celestial City. Th. What makes you think so, brother? Others have been in this valley as well as we, and got out safe. The pilgrim |