civilized life, there is no intention to deceive, this excellent Christian, pastor, and instructor, and consequently no falsehood. Polite language died of a slow consumption, at the age mentioned is pleasant to the ear, and soothing to the heart, above, at Aberdeen, in 1678. Besides the fruit while rough words are just the reverse; and if of his personal labors, he left as a legacy to posnot the product of ill-temper, are very apt to terity this little treatise on practical religion, produce it. The plainest of truths, let it be "The Life of God in the Soul of Man," and nine remembered, can be conveyed in civil speech, short, but excellent discourses on religious subwhile the most malignant of lies may find utter-jects.* This work was at first designed for the ance, and often do, in the language of the fishmarket.

We have recently been furnished with a pamphlet entitled, "The Life of God in the Soul of Man," by Henry Scougal, with a brief notice of the author. We have read it with deep interest as the production of one who lived 200 years ago, and who finished his earthly career at the early age of 27 years. The extracts which we design making will speak for themselves. We commend them to the careful perusal of our readers.-ED.

BRIEF SKETCH OF THE AUTHOR.

private use of a friend of the author, but at the solicitation of some who had seen it, it was given by the latter to Dr. Burnet, afterward Bishop of Salisbury, with permission to publish it.

THE LIFE OF GOD IN THE SOUL OF MAN.

My dear Friend,

This designation doth give you a title to all the endeavors whereby I can serve your interconspire with my duty, that I shall not need to ests; and your pious inclinations do so happily step out of my road to gratify you; but I may at once perform an office of friendship, and discharge an exercise of my function, since the advancing of virtue and holiness (which I hope you make your study) is the peculiar business of my employment. This, therefore, is the most proper instance wherein I can vent my affection, and express my gratitude towards you, and I shall not any longer delay the performance of the promise I made you to this purpose; for though I know you are provided with better helps of this nature than any I can offer younor are you like to meet with any thing here which you knew not before-yet I am hopeful that what cometh from one whom you are pleased to honor with your friendship, and which is more particularly designed for your use, will be kindly accepted by you; and God's providence, perhaps, may so direct my thoughts, that something or other may prove useful to you. Nor shall Ï doubt your pardon, if, for moulding my discourse into the better frame, I lay a low foundation, beginning with the nature and properties of religion, and all along give such way to my thoughts in the prosecution of the subject, as may bring me to say many things which were not necessary did I only consider to whom I am writing.

Henry Scougal, the deeply pious and heavenly-minded author of the following pages, was born in June, 1650, and died at the early age of twenty-seven. His father, Patrick Scougal, ⚫ was for twenty years bishop of Aberdeen, a man of extraordinary talents and piety. Of such a father, it is natural to expect a son of similar character; and in this instance, expectation is far outstripped by reality. He gave early indications of uncommon piety, and an extraordinary disposition for learning. At fifteen he entered the University of Aberdeen. Here his conduct rendered him as much superior to his companions, in a moral point of view, as his extraordinary talent set him above them in literary attainments. His proficiency in philosophy, belles lettres, history, mathematics, and the sciences, was truly remarkable. Scarcely had he taken his degree, then only nineteen years of age, when he was chosen Professor of Philosophy in the University. After filling this station with honor to himself and profit to the University during four years, he, by the advice of his father and other respected friends, received holy orders, and entered upon the charge of the parish of Auchterless, a small village about twenty miles from Aberdeen. In this new office, he displayed the most unwearied diligence, and the most fervent zeal, united with that consummate prudence which distinguished the whole course of his life. After having remained in this charge about a year, and having acquired the love and veneration of all his flock, he was summoned, by the unanimous vote of the clergy of the diocese of Aberdeen, to the divinity chair of the Universi-ited by Bishop Jebb, have just been issued by the These Sermons, and the following treatise, as edty. For this office he was eminently qualified. Protestant Episcopal Press, in the 9th Vol. of the After a life of industry, usefulness, and honor, Parrish Library. (1831.)

Mistakes about religion.

I cannot speak of religion, but I must lament that among so many pretenders to it so few understand what it means; some placing it in the understanding- in orthodox notions and opinions; and all the account they can give of their religion is, that they are of this or the other persuasion, and have joined themselves to one of those many sects whereinto Christendom is most unhappily divided. Others place it in the outward man, in a constant course of external duties, and a model of performances; if they live

peaceably with their neighbors, keep a temper-newly beheaded, caused by the agitations of the ate diet, observe the returns of worship, frequent animal spirits after the soul is departed, which, the church and their closet, and sometimes ex- however violent and impetuous, can be of no tend their hands to the relief of the poor, they long continuance: whereas the motions of holy think they have sufficiently acquitted themselves. souls are constant and regular, proceeding from Others again put all religion in the affections, a permanent and lively principle. It is true, in rapturous heats and ecstatic devotion; and this divine life continueth not always in the same all they aim at, is to pray with passion, and think strength and vigor, but many times suffers sad of heaven with pleasure, and to be affected with decays, and holy men find greater difficulty in those kind and melting expressions wherewith resisting temptations and less alacrity in the perthey court their Saviour, till they persuade them-formance of their duties; yet it is not quite exselves that they are mightily in love with him; and from thence assume a great confidence of their salvation, which they esteem the chief of Christian graces. Thus are those things which have any resemblance of piety, and at the best are but means of obtaining it, or particular exercises of it, frequently mistaken for the whole of religion; nay, sometimes wickedness and vice pretend to that name. I speak not now of those gross impieties wherewith the Heathens were wont to worship their gods: there are but too many Christians who would consecrate their vices, and hallow their corrupt affections; whose rugged humor and sullen pride, must pass for Christian severity; whose fierce wrath and bitter rage against their enemies, must be called holy zeal; whose petulancy towards their superiors, or rebellion against their governors, must have the name of Christian courage and resolu

tion.

What Religion is.

tinguished, nor are they abandoned to the power of those corrupt affections which sway and overrule the rest of the world. The Freedom and Unconstrainedness of Religion. Again, religion may be defined by the name of life, because it is an inward, free, and selfmoving principle, and those who have made progress in it, are not actuated only by external motives, driven merely by threatenings, nor bribed by promises, nor constrained by laws; but are powerfully inclined to that which is good, and delight in the performance of it: the love which a pious man bears to God and goodness, is not so much by virtue of a command enjoining him so to do, as by a new nature instructing and prompting him to it; nor doth he pay his devotions as an unavoidable tribute, only to appease the divine justice, or quiet his clamorous conscience; but those religious exercises are the proper emanations of the divine life, the natural employments of the new-born soul. He prays, But certainly religion is quite another thing, and give thanks, and repents, not only because and they who are acquainted with it will enter- these things are commanded, but rather because tain far different thoughts, and disdain all those he is sensible of his wants, and of the divine shadows and false imitations of it: they know goodness, and of the folly and misery of a sinful by experience that true religion is a union of the life; his charity is not forced, nor his alms exsoul with God, a real participation of the divine torted from him; his love makes him willing to nature, the very image of God drawn upon the give; and though there were no outward oblisoul; or, in the apostle's phrase, "It is Christ gation, his heart would devise liberal things; formed within us." Briefly, I know not how injustice or intemperance, and all other vices, the nature of religion can be more fully expressed are as contrary to his temper and constitution, as than by calling it a divine life; and under those the basest actions are to the most generous spirit, terms I shall discourse of it, showing first how it and impudence and scurrility to those who are is called a life, and then how it is termed divine. naturally modest; so that I may well say with St. John, "Whosoever is born of God, doth not The Permanency and Stability of Religion. commit sin; for his seed remaineth in him, and I choose to express it by the name of life, first, he caunot sin, because he is born of God."because of its permanency and stability. Reli-1 John iii. 9. Though holy and religious persons gion is not a sudden start, or passion of the mind, do much eye the law of God, and have a great not though it should rise to the height of a rap- regard unto it, yet it is not so much the sanction ture, and seem to transport a man to extraordi- of the law, as its reasonableness, and purity, and nary performances. There are few but have con- goodness, which do prevail with them: they acvictions of the necessity of doing something for count it excellent and desirable in itself, and the salvation of their souls, which may push them that in keeping of it there is great reward; and forward some steps with a great deal of seeming that divine love wherewith they are actuated, haste, but anon they flag and give over; they makes them become a law unto themselves. were in a hot mood, but now they are cooled; Quis legem det amantibus ? they did shoot forth fresh and high, but are quickly withered, because they had no root in themselves. These sudden fits may be compared to the violent and convulsive motions of bodies

Major est amor lex ipse sibi.
Who shall prescribe a law to those that love?
Love's a more powerful law which doth them move.
In a word, what our blessed Saviour said of

son be conscientious and uniform in his obe

What the Natural Life is.

eration of that divine life wherein true religion Before I descend to a more particular considdoth consist, it will perhaps be fit to speak a little of that natural or animal life, which prevails this I understand nothing else but our inclinain those who are strangers to the other; and by tion and propension towards those things which are pleasing and acceptable to nature; or selflove issuing forth and spreading itself into as many branches as men have several appetites and inclinations: the root and foundation of the animal life I reckon to be sense, taking it largely, as it is opposed unto faith and importeth our perception and sensation of things that are either grateful or troublesome to us.

himself is in some measure applicable to his fol- | of his Holy Spirit; but also in regard of its nalowers, that it is their meat and drink to do ture, religion being a resemblance of the Divine their Father's will. And, as the natural ap pe- perfections, the image of the Almighty shining tite is carried out towards food though we should in the soul of man; nay, it is a real participation not reflect on the necessity of it for the preserva- of his nature-it is a beam of the eternal lighttion of our lives; so are they carried with a a drop of that infinite ocean of goodness and natural and unforced propension towards that they who are endued with it, may be said to have which is good and commendable. It is true, ex-God dwelling in their souls, and Christ formed ternal motives are many times of great use to within them.' excite and stir up this inward principle, especially in its infancy and weakness, when it is of ten so languid that the man himself can scarce discern it, hardly being able to move one step forward but when he is pushed by his hope or his fears; by the pressure of an affliction, or the sense of a mercy; by the authority of the law, or the persuasion of others. Now if such a perdience, and earnestly groaning under the sense of his dulness, and is desirous to perform his duties with more spirit and vigor; these are the first motions of a divine life, which, though it be faint and weak, will surely be cherished by the influences of heaven, and grow into greater maturity. But he who is utterly destitute of this inward principle, and doth not aspire unto it, but contents himself with those performances whereunto he is prompted by education or custom, by the fear of hell, or carnal notions of heaven, can no more be accounted a religious person, than a puppet can be called a man. This forced and artificial religion is commonly heavy and languid, like the motion of a weight forced upward: it is cold and spiritless, like the uneasy compliance of a wife married against her will, who carries it dutifully towards the husband whom she doth not love, out of some sense of virtue and honor. Hence also this religion is scant and niggardly, especially in those duties which do greatest violence to men's carnal inclinations, and those slavish spirits will be sure to do no more than is absolutely required: it is a law that compels them, and they will be loath to go beyond what it stints them to; nay, they will ever be putting such glosses on it as may leave themselves the greatest liberty: whereas, the spirit of true religion is frank and liberal, far from such peevish and narrow reckoning; and he who hath given himself entirely unto God, will never think he doth too much for him.

Religion a Divine Principle. By this time I hope it doth appear, that religion is with a great deal of reason termed a life, or vital principle; and that it is very necessary to distinguish betwixt it and that obedience which is constrained, and depends on external causes. I come next to give an account why I defined it by the name of divine life; and so it may be called, not only in regard of its fountain and original, having God for its author, and being wrought in the souls of men by the power

Now these ani

mal affections, considered in themselves, and as they are implanted in us by nature, are not vithe wisdom of the Creator, furnishing his creacious or blameable; nay, they are instances of tures with such appetites as tend to the preservation and welfare of their lives. These are instead of a law unto the brute beasts, whereby they are directed towards the ends for which they were made: but man being made for higher purposes, and to be guided by more excellent laws, becomes guilty and criminal, when he is so life, as to violate his duty, or neglect the higher far transported by the inclination of this lower and more noble designs of his creation. Our natural affections are not wholly to be extirpated overruled by a superior and more excellent prinand destroyed, but only to be moderated and ciple. In a word, the difference betwixt a religious and a wicked man is, that in the one, divine life bears the sway; in the other, the animal life doth prevail.

(To be continued.)

All that your friend says to you, as to his friends, is intrusted to you solely. Much of what a man tells you, in the hour of affliction, in sudden anger, or in an outpouring of his heart, should be sacred. In his craving for sympathy, he has spoken to you as his own soul.

It is a good thing to be prompt, active, and decided; but nothing is ever done well that is done in a hurry. Festina lente, says the Latin maxim-Hasten slowly. It is the only mode by which you can accomplish a purpose with accuracy as well as celerity.

:

north, he took the trumpet from his mouth, and held it in his right hand, with his arm stretched towards the east, and his face still towards the north, with his eyes intent towards heaven; his right ear turned upward, reclining toward the east; his mouth a little open, and his breath glowing therefrom as a lambent flame; and as one hearkening, with deep attention, for fresh orders from the King of Kings.

"But I looked unto himself alone, and, in the twinkling of an eye, he set the trumpet to his mouth again, with majesty and zeal, and, turning it toward the earth, the breath of his mouth there through was as a stream of fire and brimstone, which pierced the earth, drove it hither and thither, and melted the stones before him.

"The city was then alarmed, and pale death appeared on every face, the gay of this world were astonished, and the mighty thereof in war trembled in great amazement and fear, but knew not where to hide themselves."

and, after a short space, "I beheld a storm to arise in the Northern Ocean, towards the North Pole; and looking steadfastly upon it, and the heighth, fury, and force of the mighty waves, I saw an army innumerable walking thereon, toward the south and when they came ashore, they covered the whole breadth of the Island of Britain, and all the northern lands; and the rear I could not see, or whence they issued. They were strangers in the earth; such as have not been known their apparel plain, appearing as if they had come from far, and travelled long. But I saw no provision, baggage, sword, spear, or weapon of war, but only staffs in their hands, suiting their journey. Their countenances were grave, sober and calm, importing wisdom and peace; and they offered no violence or hurt unto any and yet all nations, being surprised and amazed, with great and sudden fear, fled before them; and they did not pursue, otherwise than by walking forward in the same steady pace and order as upon the stormy seas, which had not obstructed their march. The inhabitants of Britain, and of other lands, of all stations, ages, sexes, and ranks, as distracted and confounded with fear, and flying as for their lives, when none pursued, fell, many of them by the way; and lest they should be overtaken, when no man gave them chase, they cried out aloud, with confused shrieks and voices, raising their trembling EDWARD STABLER'S LETTER OF ADVICE TO HIS hands and intermitting voices towards heaven, (which they had deeply offended and neglected Petersburg, 3d mo. 31st, 1781. before,) to implore deliverance from the dreadMy dear daughters,--You are now arrived ful army, which offered them no harm. And at an age, and are also blessed with understandwhen Britain's children arrived at her southern-ing, which will enable you to distinguish bemost bounds, she joined herself to the land of tween good and evil, and to know what is right the ancient Gauls. And all nations thus flowing and what is wrong. You are left motherless, together, as the concourse of the waters into one and it is uncertain how soon you may be fathersea, they vanished together, and I saw them no less; however, you will be in a manner so at more." present. It will therefore require more thoughtfulness and care on your part, to fill your stations in life with propriety and reputation; and in case time and ability should not be afforded me, to give you any farther counsel or assistance, I have set down a few things which I desire you may frequently read, and seriously attend to.

2d mo., 1689. Some weeks after this, having been in a very sound sleep I was awakened in this manner: "There appeared a city, near the gates whereof stood the fairest house therein, which was high and magnificent, into which a man of low stature seemed to enter; he was habited as a post or courier of a prince, bringing great and swift commands and news, with a trumpet in his right hand, transparent as fine polished crystal, and without wrinkle or wreath, and therewith he sounded towards the north, with a strong, constant, equal and inarticulate voice; and the breath of his mouth issuing through it, was a flame of fire, in the form of a two-edged sword.

"This voice raised me from the dead, (for I thought I had been in the grave,) and the cogent attractive virtue thereof drew me towards him that sounded'; and, filled with awful reverence, I stood on his right hand; though he uttered not a word, and I was likewise silent.

"Having finished his sounding towards the

My sleep then vanishing, and being fully awake, the blessed effects of this voice remained in my mind, with heavenly consolation, unknown to the dead, and the sons and daughters of men, in the state in which, by nature, they are. [To be continued.]

DAUGHTERS.

In the first place, consider that you have nothing but what you have received. All your abilities, both of body and mind, are given you by your Heavenly Father, and you must give an account to Him how you have employed them. He hath also placed His witness in your hearts, which will be a faithful monitor to you on all occasions, and will not fail to reprove you for evil thoughts, evil words, or evil actions, but will also afford you the answer of peace in your own breasts, when you do that which is right. There fore, attend diligently to it, and watch its motions; and before you engage in any matter of importance, seriously consider how it will appear in the eyes of Him, who sees and knows leven your most secret thoughts; and if it should