amples, where loose conversation, and bad companions, the means, the opportunities, the incentives to vice, abound so much as they do in crowded places and in places connected with a seafaring life, it is greatly to be feared that if children and young persons be not engaged in what is good, they will be engaged in wickedness; that they are not merely absent from the duty and the place where they ought to be, but they are present at scenes which must go near to destroy all the seeds and elements of virtue within them. It may be true, that of those who by their parents or the public, are brought to church in their youth, some show very little proofs of being affected or benefited by it. But this is nothing more than what may be said of every plan of education. The best oftentimes fails. As concerning education, therefore, the proper question is, Do those who have no education succeed? and not, Does every one that has it make a right use of it? So in this article of bringing children to church; the first inquiry is, whether those who never come to church in their youth, will do so when they are grown up; and whether this might not have been the case with multitudes, if they had not been beholden to these institutions.

Then as to another objection, that children, just perhaps rising out of infancy, are incapable of understanding much of what is going on at church; the objection, in the first place, does not belong to the children who are brought to church by this institution, more than it did to the little ones, and the children, whom Jehoshaphat assembled in the congregation of Judah, or to the children who were presented to Christ, and we know that in neither of these two cases did the reason hinder its being an accepted service, in their view who brought them. In the next place, the objection is alleged without a sufficient knowledge of human life. It is not only possible, but it is in the ordinary course of things, that men retain from reason and principle what they at first acquired by habit, and under the influence of authority; which yet, if it had not been so acquired, this reason might never have attended to, nor their principles have been excited towards it. Every art and science is at first learnt by rote. Children do not at first know the reason of the rules of grammar or arithmetic; nor is it probable they would ever become grammarians or arithmeticians, if they put off learning the practice till they comprehend the proofs. It is afterwards, when they come to employ their own thoughts and their own reflections; when they come to work themselves upon the materials which have previously been laid in by rote,

that men of science and learning are formed. A good deal of this observation is true of religion. The principles of christian knowledge and rules of christian duty, like all first rules and principles, must be learnt by example and authority. And this is necessary, in order that when men begin to reflect, they may be provided with something to reflect upon; and we trust and believe, that the principles of Christianity are so well founded, that the more men's reason opens and operates, the more they will be inclined to hold fast by their own judgment, what they at first received from the instruction of others. Whereas if a man knew nothing of divine worship in his youth, it would be such a strangeness to him afterwards, that if he should happen to enter a church, it would be with a stupid gaze and wonder at what was passing, rather than with any disposition or any capacity to join in it. This would be a defect not to be overcome by reason; because it is not probable that men's reasoning faculties would be exerted upon a subject from which they were absolutely estranged; it probably therefore would not be overcome at all during the course of the man's life.

I recur to an observation which hath already been stated, that all we can do for the honor of God, the utmost return we can any of us make to him for his unceasing, ill deserved, and unspeakable mercies, is poor and inadequate to the obligation; yet we are not to sink under the sense of our unworthiness, of the feebleness of our endeavours, of their frequent want of efficacy and success; but on the contrary, just in proportion as they are such, we are to use and exert them to the extent of our power; we are to do our all and our utmost. One mode of testifying our piety toward God, is by bringing young persons and children to his worship. It is a mode founded in rational considerations as it respects the children; and as it respects God, it is what we have authority from his word to say, he himself is pleased to accept and to approve.

I am given to understand that the liberality of the neighbour- hood, together with the prudent and praiseworthy attention of those who conduct this charity, afford a prospect of extending its usefulness to some other objects, particularly the establishment of a Day School. I shall only say, that it must be an additional motive to the contributors to know that nothing will be lost; that what can be spared from one good purpose will be applied to another; that if they cast, as the scripture expresses it, their bread upon the waters, they will, by one channel or another, though after many days, find it again; find it in its effect upon the good and happiness of some one; find it in its reward to themselves.

L.

THE PARABLE OF THE SAMARITAN.

LUKE X. 36, 37.

Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among thieves? And he said, He that showed mercy on him. Then said Jesus unto him, Go, and do thou likewise.

THE parable of the good Samaritan was calculated to ascertain who are the proper objects of our love and kindness; for in the conversation which precedes, it seems to have been agreed between our Lord and the person with whom he conversed, who is called by St Luke a lawyer, but which name amongst the Jews rather signified a divine, that the great rules of the law were, to love the Lord thy God, and thy neighbour as thyself.' But then a doubt is suddenly started, Who was that neighbour?' who was to be accounted a neigbour within the sense and construction of the precept? To this doubt our Saviour applies this excellent parable. And the whole frame and texture of the parable is contrived to set forth this lesson; that the persons best entitled to our help and kindness are those who stand in the most urgent need of it; that we are to help those who are most helpless; that our healing, friendly hand is to be held out to all who are cast in our way in circumstances of misery and distress, let their relation to us in other respects be ever so remote, or even ever so adverse, and be the case which hath brought them under our observation, and within the reach of our assistance, what it will. This is the lesson to be gathered from this beautiful and affecting piece of scripture; and almost every circumstance introduced into it has a reference and application to that moral. It forms the very point of the narrative. The wounded traveller was a stranger to the man who relieved him. He was more; he was a national enemy. And the very force of the parable turns upon this circumstance. Do you think it was without design that our blessed Saviour made choice of a Samaritan and a Jew as the persons of his story? It was far otherwise. It was with a settled intention of inculcating this benevolent truth; that no difference, no opposition of political, national, or even religious sentiments, ought to check the offices of humanity, where situations of calamity and misfortune called for them; and no two

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characters in the world could more perfectly answer our Lord's purpose than those of a Samaritan and a Jew; for every one who knows any thing of the history of those times and those countries, or even who has read the New Testament with care, knows this; that the most bitter and rancorous hostility subsisted between these two descriptions of men, and that it was an hostility founded, not only in a difference of nation, but also in a difference of religion. What is, perhaps, still more apt to inflame dislike and enmity, is a difference of doctrines and opinions upon the same religion. On the part of the Samaritans, you meet with an instance of enmity and dislike, in refusing at one of their villages the common rights of hospitality to our Lord and his followers, because he was going up, it seems, to join in the public worship of the festival to be celebrated at Jerusalem, whereas they thought Mount Gerazim was the place where men ought to worship.' Another instance of the complete alienation and studied distance at which the Jews and Samaritans kept each other, is seen in our Lord's conversation with the Samaritan woman at the well; for the woman could not forbear expressing her surprise that our Lord, whom she perceived to be a Jew, asked even for a cup of water at her hand; How is it that thou, being a Jew, askest drink of me, who am a woman of Samaria?' The same thing that had surprised the woman, surprised also the disciples; for when they came up to the place, they marvelled, you read, that he talked with the woman, and the cause of surprise in both cases is explained by the evangelist, who tells us that the Jews have no dealings with the Samaritans.' In the foul and most undeserved abuse, which some of the Pharisees bestowed upon our Saviour, one of the harshest and bitterest things they could say was, Thou art a Samaritan.' This shows the temper of the men and of the times. Such was a Jew, and such was a Samaritan; yet, in the beautiful parable before us, when a Samaritan found a Jew stripped, wounded, and left half naked, he thought no more of their public hostility, their national quarrel, their religious controversies; still less did he reflect that the Jews and Samaritans had no dealings with each other; that a Jew was not to speak to a Samaritan, nor a Samaritan to a Jew. None of these reflections were entertained by him. He yielded at once to the impulse of his compassion, and to the extremity of the case. Had the Samaritan gone about to seek excuses for passing by the poor traveller, specious excuses were not wanting. The traveller's character was quite unknown to him. He was ignorant what sort of person he was, or how

far deserving of his bounty. He had many at home whom he did know, Samaritans like himself, of the same country and the same faith; and many, no doubt, suffering under every species of distress. The person before him was one of the inhabitants of Jerusalem, who were all the old and bitter enemies of his country. He had no reason to think that if a Jew had found him in such a situation, he would have thought it his duty to afford him any succor at all; and no reflection is more common and natural than to do to others, not what we would that others should do to us, but what we believe that others would do to us, if our situation were theirs. The accident also,

which had thrown the traveller in his way, was an accident in which he had no concern. He had not robbed or beaten him. It was not owing to him, or to any fault of his, that the road was infested with thieves, and that the mischief had happened. These excuses were at hand; but the Samaritan sought none. It cannot be doubted, in truth it never was doubted, but that our Saviour, in describing the conduct and character of the Samaritan, pointed out a conduct which he approved, and a character which he loved. This is evident, not only from the occasion and general instruction of the parable, but from the words with which our Lord concludes it; Go, and do thou likewise.' The story was so framed, that it extorted a commendation from the Jewish lawyer, though the commendation was bestowed upon a person whom he hated, upon the enemy of his name and religion, a Samaritan. And the reply our Saviour made was surely the right and true one. Imitate thou the conduct which thou canst not help approving; Go, and do thou likewise.' It is most evident, therefore, that when, under similar circumstances, we act as the Samaritan acted, we act according to our Saviour's command.

Now besides the general instruction which there may be gathered from the parable, besides the general impression which it can hardly fail of making upon minds capable of receiving any moral or religious impression at all; besides, I say, its main purpose and general use, there are particular circumstances in it, calculated to excite salutary reflections.

First of all, it was by no means a good disposition in the lawyer, which put him upon asking the question, 'Who is my neighbour?' It was seeking a needless difficulty in a plain duty, which always, I take it, springs from a backwardness and lukewarmth, to say the least, towards the duty itself. When men are hearty and in earnest in any duty, they are not apt to multiply questions about it. The lawyer would not love his neighbour as himself till he new precisely who was to be reck