CHAP. XVII.

The Opinions of some wise Heathens on the important Doctrine of Divine Influences. An unexpected Event takes place, which occasions Conversation between Sir Charles and Mr. D--upon an interesting Subject.

T

HOUGHTFUL, and rather depressed in spirits, Sir Charles returned home, after the interview already related between him and Roger Trusty. When he considered the consistency of character, maintained by this humble friend, he could not entertain a doubt of his being in possession of true religion. Yet he was conscious he wanted in himself that steady faith, that zeal and piety which in him shone so conspicuously. His favourite Seneca lay on the table; he opened it to amuse and dissipate uneasy reflections, and met with this remarkable observation: "Are you surprised that man should approach to the gods? It is God that comes to men; nay, which is yet more, he enters into them; for no mind becomes virtuous but by his assistance." "Seneca and Roger Trusty are of the

same opinion then," exclaimed Sir Charles. “I will see what my other philosophers say on the subject." He examined Simplicius, and Maximus Tyrius. The former prays to " God as the father and guide of reason, so to co-operate with us, as to purge us from all carnal affections, that we may be enabled to act according to the dictates of reason, and to attain to the true knowledge of himself." And the latter argues---that " if skill in the professions and sciences, is insinuated into men's minds by a divine influence (which he very rationally supposed to be the case), we can much less imagine that a thing so much more excellent as virtue is, can be the work of any mortal art: for strange must be the notion that we have of God, to think that he is liberal and free in matters of less moment, and sparing in the greatest." Struck with such expressions from the wise heathen writers, Sir Charles, for the first moment, was inclined to believe all that Roger had advanced; but the human mind is active is forming objections on this subject, so humbling to its pride. Suddenly a thought presented, that these were writers living in the time of Christians, and therefore might have. learnt their language from them. He reached down his Xenophon and his Plato. To his surprise he found Xenophon representing Cyrus, with his dying breath, ascribing it to a "divine

influence in his mind, that he had been taught to acknowledge the care of providence, and to bear his prosperity with becoming moderation." Socrates declaring, "that whenever virtue comes, it is apparently the fruit of a divine dispensation." And Plato observing, that "virtue is not to be taught but by divine assistance."

The high esteem with which Sir Charles beheld these ancient sages induced him to consider and reconsider their opinion on this subject.

There is not a doctrine contained in Scripture which the man of reason and deep reflection need fear bringing to the test of sound argument, and this particularly, the necessity of divine influences, so clearly taught in Scripture, and so necessary to be believed. Pride, not reason, is the opponent of this truth: and we make no doubt but, that the enlightened philosophers, who made the wise observations we have quoted, would have scorned to have acted the part of modern sceptics.

The more our hero considered this important subject, the more was he convinced of the reasonableness of the sentiment, and the folly of his own conduct in omitting prayer for divine teaching. Thus, in an eminent degree, his "heart became the convert of his head;" a striking proof that every intellectual faculty may be exercised to a good purpose in the great work

of salvation. We see, alas! the assertion of the apostle verified, that not "many (comparatively) wise men after the flesh," are wise unto salvation; but let it not, for a moment, be imagined, it is because wisdom and true religion are at variance. No; it is only the impediments which human learning throw in the way, by drawing off the mind from the best study, and the tendency it has to alienate the heart from a life of piety.

Throughly convinced of the reasonableness of prayer, as well as that it is a scriptural injunction, Sir Charles addressed himself to the throne of almighty grace-a throne which no humble petitioner ever addressed in vain.

From his heart, the following Sunday, he united in the collect of the day; the reasonableness of which is only equalled by the beautiful simplicity of its diction.

"Lord of all power and might, who art the author and giver of all good things; graft in our hearts the love of thy name; increase in us true religion; nourish us with all goodness; and of thy great mercy keep us in the same, through Jesus Christ our Lord."

Sir Charles also now resolved to pay a closer attention to the minister's scrmons than he had hitherto done: from them he derived much information, for they were always scriptural; and

thus he used every mean in his power towards attaining the knowledge of the truth. These means are put into the hands of every person in our highly-favoured Britain. It is their indispensable duty to be found in the use of them, nor can any make pretence to the title of an honest enquirer after truth, who does not follow the example of our hero. He was the "honest deist." The character we presume, the poet

meant when he says,

"An honest deist where the Gospel shines,

Matur'd to nobler, in the Christian ends."

A circumstance now occurred of an unexpected and striking nature, which was calculated to impress a mind much less reflecting than Sir Charles's.

Mr. D---'s health began to decline, and he had, in consequence, been obliged to desist from delivering his lectures, and also from close attention to study. The human mind is so constituted that it ever requires something to employ its natural energies, or sooth its declining vigour. From this cause, religion is doubly valuable to age or sickness; and, indeed, without those hopes, prospects, and employments peculiar to the Christian, such a situation must be comfortless, if not miserable. It would be too little to say of Mr. D--that he was comfortless; he was now