"Christians," said Dr. Barlow, "who would strictly keep within the bounds prescribed by their religion, should imitate the ancient Romans, who carefully watched that their god Terminus, who defined their limits, should never recede; the first step of his retreat, they said, would be the destruction of their security."
"But, Doctor," said Sir John, "pray what remedy do you recommend against this natural, I had almost said this invincible, propensity to over-value the world? I do not mean a propensity merely to over-rate its pleasures and its honors, but a disposition to yield to its dominion over the mind, to indulge a too earnest desire of standing well with it, to cherish a too anxious regard for its good opinion?"
"The knowledge of the disease," replied the worthy Doctor, "should precede the application of the remedy. Human applause is, by a worldly man, reckoned not only among the luxuries of life, but among articles of the first necessity. An undue desire to obtain it has certainly its foundation in vanity; and it is one of our grand errors to reckon vanity a trivial fault. An over-estimation of character, and an anxious wish to conciliate all suffrages, is an infirmity from which even worthy men are not exempt; nay, it is a weakness from which, if they are not governed by a strict religious principle, worthy men are in most danger. Reputation being in itself so very desirable a good, those who actually possess it, and in some sense deserve to possess it, are apt to make it their standard, and to rest in it as their supreme aim and end."
"You have," said Sir John, "exposed the latent principle; it remains that you suggest its cure."
"I believe," said Dr. Barlow, "that the most effectual remedy would be, to excite in the mind frequent thoughts of our divine Redeemer, and of his estimate of that world on which we so fondly set our affections, and whose approbation we are too apt to make the chief object of our ambition."
"I allow it to have been necessary," replied Sir John, "that Christ, in the great end which he had to accomplish, should have been poor, and neglected, and contemned, and that he should have trampled on the great things of this world, human applause among the rest; but I do not conceive that this obligation extends to his followers, nor that we are called upon to partake the poverty which he preferred, or to renounce the wealth and grandeur which he set at naught, or to imitate him in making himself of no reputation."
"It is true," said the Doctor, "we are not called to resemble him in his external circumstances. It is not our bounden duty to be necessarily exposed to the same contempt; nor are we obliged to embrace the same ignominy. Yet it seems a natural consequence of our Christian profession, that the things which he despised, we should not venerate; the vanities he trampled on, we should not admire; the world which he censured, we ought not to idolize; the ease which he renounced, we should not rate too highly; the fame which he set at naught, we ought not anxiously to covet. Surely, the followers of him who was 'despised and rejected of men' should not seek their highest gratification from the flattery and applause of men. The truth is, in all discourses on this subject, we are compelled continually to revert to the observation, that Christianity is a religion of the heart. And though we are not called upon to partake the poverty and meanness of his situation, yet the precept is clear and direct, respecting the temper by which we should be governed: 'Let the same mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus.' If, therefore, we happen to possess that wealth and grandeur which he disdained, we should possess them as though we possessed them not. We have a fair and liberal permission to use them as his gift, and to his glory, but not to erect them into the supreme objects of our attachment. In the same manner, in every other point, it is still the spirit of the act, the temper of the mind, to which we are to look. For instance, I do not think that I am obliged to show my faith by sacrificing my son, nor my obedience by selling all that I have, to give to the poor; but I think I am bound by the spirit of these two powerful commands, to practice a cheerful acquiescence in the whole will of God, in suffering and renouncing as well as in doing, when I know what is really his will."
CHAPTER XX.
The pleasant reflections excited by the interesting conversation of the evening were cruelly interrupted by my faithful Edwards. "Sir," said he, when he came to attend me, "do you know that all the talk of the Hall to-night at supper was, that Miss Stanley is going to be married to young Lord Staunton. He is a cousin of Mrs. Carlton's, and Mr. Stanley's coachman brought home the news from thence yesterday. I could not get at the very truth, because Mrs. Comfit was out of the way, but all the servants agree, that though he is a lord, and rich and handsome, he is not half good enough for her. Indeed, sir, they say he is no better than he should be."