THE MOST PROBABLE SUBJECTS OF CONVERSION.

I HAVE frequently heard it advanced, that a profligate sinner is more likely to become the subject of conversion than one of a more decent and moral cast. But I think the sentiment is supported neither by Scripture nor general observation, and that it is pregnant with pernicious and dangerous consequences. The ground of the opinion has generally been, that a moral one, if unconverted, is necessarily a selfrighteous man, and as such more hard to be convinced of his sins than an open and profligate sinner. But this argument appears in every view fallacious; for first I conceive that a profane man is likely to be as much under the influence of a self-righteous spirit, natural to all, as a more moral man. I admit, indeed, that a moral man may, and genorally does, make a righteousness of his defective morality. But the grossest sinner will do the same; he will labor to bring the law of God down to his own standard, however low; in the absence of all positive goodness he will pride himself on his negative merit, and where both fail, substitute a name of religion, or even a descent from a pious ancestor in the place of true religion; and to these delusory pleas he will adhere with so much pertinacity as makes it very difficult to convince him of the evil of his ways. No man, indeed, can be in the habit of sin in any degree, but in that degree his heart becomes hard, his conscience seared, his views of the evil of sin and of the laws of God low and inadequate; and he who thus reduces the obligations and extent of the law of God, can easily suppose himself capable of performing a righteousness commensurate with them.

A text frequently adduced in support of the sentiment in question is, Matt. xxii. 31: "Publicans and harlots," &c. Now the very turn of the expression here used evinces, that these are characters by no means the most likely to embrace the gospel, yet that there are those who are even more averse to it than they. But who are these? Such as, like the Pharisees of old, who were in general gross hypocrites, are under the influence of principles of a tendency still more fatal. Mr. Henry observes, "an hypocrite is more hardly convinced than a gross sinner;" and surely an hypocrite is a more abandoned character than the grossest sinner who makes no profession of religion. The text, therefore, no more proves the point for which it is adduced. than it would have done

had it declared, that even publicans and harlots enter into the kingdom of God before assassins.

The Pharisees of old were at once hypocritical and self-righteous; and from this latter circumstance it has probably arisen, that the term Pharisee has been applied to all descriptions of persons who bear this one mark of resemblance to them, however in other respects they may differ from them; and the name being thus applied, all the Scriptures which mention it are readily applied to.

Let us consider a moment the tendency of the sentiment in question. There was a time when the profligate sinner, though born with the principles of corrupt nature, had not run into that habit of profligacy in which he is now involved. Was he then in a less desirable state, or less likely to become the object of divine grace than at present? If so, he has done well that he has gone so far into iniquity, and will do well to continue therein; for on the absurd hypothesis we are now examining, every step he takes brings him probably nearer to God. And what, in this case, is the awful dilemma in which a minister of the Gospel stands? From the minister of righteousness he must become the minister of sin, and do evil that good may come; for when he cannot convince a moral man of his sins, it appears to be his duty, in order to place him in the most favorable situation for conversion, to bring him off from self-righteousness by persuading him to practice grosser sins. If one degree should not succeed he must be taught to proceed to a greater, till he arrives at the highest pitch of presumptuous iniquity.

This argument might also be illustrated from the nature of the moral government of God. Allowing the fullest exercise to the divine sovereignty, would it not appear to reflect on the conduct of a moral governor, in selecting the objects of mercy from a world of rebels, to choose principally and for the most part such as were the most atrocious and abandoned? It might evidently comport well with his wisdom, equity, and goodness, to select some such, as an encouragement to others to return to their allegiance; and to hold out this great lesson, that no degree of sin will be a bar to the restoration of the sincere penitent to the favor of God; but it by no means follows that the profligate sinner has any advantage for becoming a true penitent. The matter might also be safely referred to the impartial observation of every individual.

We have not here adverted to the power of the Holy Ghost, which alone is equal to the conversion of the most decorous, as well as the most profligate sinner, because it will be admitted not to belong to the argument; the conversion of both being alike easy to divine power. All for which we contend is this, that there are gradations in sin; that every

step we take in its course takes us farther from God and nearer to destruction; and that it becomes us to be very cautious how we indulge the thought ourselves, or hold it out to others, that a state of great and aggravated sin is attended with any advantage for the reception of divine grace, or, which appears nearly the same thing, that it is proper to continue in sin, that grace may abound. J. L.

ANECDOTE.

Dr.

THE late Rev. Dr. Steadman, president of the Baptist College, at Bradford, in England, used sometimes to relate an occurrence illustrative of the state of some of the churches of that land, and of the kind of ministers they were disposed to choose. A certain church of long standing, and professing a highly intellectual character, but which never was known to enjoy prosperity, or to keep a truly valuable minister long, became "destitute," and addressed a "circular" to each of the presidents of the colleges to inquire after a suitable young man for a pastor. Steadman, "great lamp of goodness," as Dr. Ryland used to call him, opened his letter, and at the dinner-table read it to the students. His voice, and especially his manner, arising from shortness of sight, shewed great peculiarity, and none of his hearers on that occasion will ever forget it. -needed a The letter represented that the church at pastor, that he must be a gentleman in his manners, eloquent in his style and delivery, and a man of piety. The last, the worthy president said, was only introduced to round the period. Having read the letter, he emphatically said, "What horrible stuff!" and there, so far as the students were concerned, ended the matter. Some time after, the Doctor was asked what answer he returned: "Why," said he, "I only just told them, that thank God, we had no such man in the house, and I hoped we never should have." The church, however, since then have had some half-dozen such men, and still remains in a very low state.

B.

ENERGY.-The longer I live, the more certain I am that the great difference between men, the great and the insignificant, is energy-invincible determination-an honest purpose once fixed-and then death or victory. That quality will do anything that can be done in the world; and no talents, no circumstances, no opportunity will make a two legged creature a man without it.- Goethe,

THE PLOUGHBOY AND THE PRESIDENT.

THE president of a well-known college in Kentucky, was one morning, while sitting in his study, astonished by the entrance of a single visitor.

The visitor was a boy of some seventeen years, rough and uncouth in his appearance, dressed in coarse homespun, with thick clumsy shoes on his feet, an old tattered felt hat on his head, surmounting a mass of uncombed hair, which relieved swarthy and sunburnt features, marked by eyes quick and sparkling, but vacant and inexpressive from want of education. The whole appearance of the youth was that of an untaught, uncultivated ploughboy.

The president, an affable and venerable man, inquired into the business of the person who stood before him.

"If you please, sir," said the ploughboy with all the hesitancy of an uneducated rustic-" If you please, sir, I'd like to get some larnin'. I heard you had a college in these parts, and I thought if I would work a spell for you, you would help me now and then in gettin' an edication."

"Well, my young friend," replied the president, "I scarcely see any way in which you might be useful to us. The request is something singular."

"Why, I can bring water, cut wood, or black boots," interrupted the boy, his eyes brightening with earnestness. "I want to get an edication, I want to make something of myself. I don't keer how hard I work, only so as to get an edication. I want-"

He paused, at a loss for words to express his ideas, but there was a language in the expressive lip, and glancing eye; there was a language in his manner—in the tone in which these words were spoken, that appealed at once to the president's feelings. He determined to try the sincerity of the youth. "I am afraid, my young friend, I can do nothing I would like to assist you, but I see no way in which you can be useful to us at present."

for you.

The president resumed his book. In a moment he glanced at the ploughboy, who sat silent and mute, holding the handle of the door. He fingered his rough hat confusedly with one hand, his eyes were downcast, and his upper lip quivered and trembled as though he were endeayoring to repress strong and sudden feelings of disappointment. The effort was but half successful. A tear, emerging from the downcast eye

lid, rolled over the sunburnt cheek, and with a quick, nervous action the ploughboy raised his toil-hardened hand and brushed away the sign of regret. He made a well-meant, but awkward mark of obeisance, and opening the door, had one foot across the threshold, when the president called him back.

The ploughboy was in a few minutes hired as a man of all work and boot-black to the college.

The next scene which we give the reader, was in a new and magnificent church, rich with the beauties of architecture, and thronged by an immense crowd, who listened in deathlike stillness to the burning elo quence of the minister of heaven, who delivered the mission of his Master from the altar. The speaker was a man in the full glow of middle age, of striking and impressive appearance, piercing and intellectual eye, and high and intellectual forehead.

Every eye is fixed on him-every lip hushed, and every ear, with nervous intensity, drinks in the eloquent teaching of the orator.

Who, in all that throng, would recognize in the famed, the learned, the eloquent president of college, Pennsylvania, the humble boot

AN AMUSING DISCOVERY.

In the days of Charles the Second, in England, lived Mr. Jeremiah Ives, a Baptist minister, famous for his talent at disputation. The King having heard of his peculiar skill, sent for him to dispute with a Romish priest. This he did, in the presence of the King and of many others, dressed in the habit of an Episcopal clergyman. Mr. Ives pressed the priest closely, showing that to whatever antiquity Romanists pretended, their doctrines and practices could by no means be proved to be apostolical, since they were not to be found in any writings which remain of the apostolic age. The priest, after much wrangling, at last replied, that this argument was of as much force against infant baptism, as against the doctrines and ceremonies of the Church of Rome. To which Mr. Ives answered, that he readily granted what he said to be true. On this the priest broke up the conference, saying, that he had been cheated, and would proceed no farther, for he came to dispute with a clergyman of the Established Church, and it was now evident that this was an Anabaptist preacher. The behavior of the priest afforded his majesty and all present, not a little diversion.

B.