There need therefore be no hesitation in saying, that as every thing which raises man above the weaknesses of his nature, adds dignity to his character; the contempt of danger must always entitle him to respect; and this feeling which adds a sort of grandeur to the bad, gives a sort of heroic magnificence to the good.

But while we believe that this admiration of courage is inherent in our very nature, and is felt even by those who are unwilling to confess it; we cannot be surprised if the admiration which is due to courage, comes gradually to be limited to such courage as a Christian is capable of exercising. The boldness which shuts its eye on danger, and rushes on destruction, may astonish, but it cannot continue to interest the mind, because it does not satisfy the reason. Men gradually cool on their impressions, and begin to calculate instead of wondering. They examine the principle of the action which is set before them. They compare the risk run with the advantage to be gained; and if they find the risk infinitely exceeding the value of the prize, or perceive that it was braved under the mere impulse of passion, in defiance of reason rather than in subordination to reason; they learn to separate the courage of the animal from that of the man, and expect that the boldness of the latter should be regulated by that which is the glory of his nature; and that even his daring should be reasonable in order that it should be honoured. In this way the world distinguishes the frenzy of the drunkard, or that recklessness of life which is found in the infuriated savage, from the well ordered deliberate firmness, with which a disciplined mind meets every emergency of trial; and refuses the very name of courage to the madness, which rushes on death, from the mere impulse of excited passion.

But under circumstances which seem more favourable; after the first comparison has been made between the object sought and the danger run; and there has been found reason enough to justify the exposure according to the world’s principles; another comparison is apt to follow, which is conducted on Christian principles, and subjects courage, or contempt of death, to a different analysis. To a Christian mind death is invariably connected with the judgment that is to follow. Viewed as the end of the present state of being, it is necessarily considered as the entrance to that which must succeed it; and an event which puts a close to the concerns of time, carries the mind, by an inference which cannot be resisted, to the contemplation of eternity. But he, who has allowed his imagination to dwell on the secrets of that unexplored abyss, which commences when life ceases; and has weighed calmly and deliberately the value of things that are infinite and eternal; turns back to life with a conviction which cannot be uttered of the vanity and nothingness of temporal objects, when once compared with those which are to come hereafter. To him, the eagerness with which the world is pursuing the various prizes of gain, honour, pleasure, wealth, seems nothing less than madness; and all that is called good, and all that is called evil among men, will shrink into nothing, in comparison with the good and evil with which he has been conversant in meditating on the prospects of eternity.

To such a man, death appears in a very different character from that in which it is viewed by the savage, or by man, when his moral state resembles that of the savage. Death thenceforth may be braved, but it cannot be despised. At the call of duty it will be met without hesitation; but it will not be met with indifference or carelessness. The man who meets it will know what cause there is to fear it; though he may be able to rise above the sense of fear, and despise it. But the victory which he thus gains over fear, the principle by which he overcomes the terrors with which he has become acquainted, must be the result of very different elements from those which he acted on before; and must be formed in a very different manner from that which constituted courage in a less enlightened state of mind.

Now, that there are means of doing this; that the gospel offers to man, what may be called the whole armour of God; that the power of meeting and overcoming him, who is called the King of Terrors, may be possessed, and has been, and is continually exercised by those who seem the weakest of our race, is happily a subject of such general notoriety, that it does not require a proof or explanation. But till this power is acquired; until these means of victory are possessed; the contingency, the inevitable contingency, in every case where life is risked, involves such awful consequences; that the mind may be justified in shrinking from the prospect of danger, where the loss of life must be followed by the destruction of the soul; and even the narrative of perils becomes too painful to be a source of pleasure to the reader. Courage under such circumstances may be an object of wonder, but it cannot be a legitimate object of admiration; and the reader must shudder while contemplating results, on which men rushed without thought or preparation; and dangers, which were boldly braved, merely because they were not understood.

The impression made is widely different, when self-possession and calmness in the midst of danger, are regarded as the effects of faith; and man is seen rising superior to the fear of death, because he feels that he is raised above its power. This is Christian heroism; and compared with this, all other heroism sinks into feelings which cannot be reconciled with reason, or be recommended for imitation.

I admit that it may be thought the interest of States to encourage and foment a courage of another and a lower kind, even that animal courage which rushes upon danger without consideration, and shuts its eyes on the real nature of the evil that is braved. The pride of men may be gratified by the imagination of superiority above other men, which this indifference to danger gives them; or by the distinctions to which it leads; and the world may concur in admiring that which feeds or flatters the imagination. But reason, sooner or later, must be heard; and reason will gradually make itself heard, in a voice which cannot be resisted; and reason must refuse its sanction to a judgment which teaches men to throw away eternity for a temporal advantage; and encourages the exposure of the soul to consequences, the amount of which cannot be calculated.

And yet, let it not be supposed, that courage loses its real character, because the occasion for its display is mistaken by the world at large; or that the effect of religion is to make men cowards. So far from this being the case, courage, even courage of the highest kind, is not only indirectly inculcated, but is absolutely commanded in the gospel; commanded by Him whose word is truth, and who alone can enable his servants to do that, which He in His wisdom sees fit to command. The only difference is, that the courage which the gospel teaches is reasonable in its exercise; a courage, which has reason on its side, and aims at nothing which cannot be justified; which only despises death, because it has seen that death need not be feared; and only defies suffering, from the conviction that it is to be borne as submission to the will of God.

Acting under these principles the Christian hears his blessed Master say, “Fear not them who can kill the body, and after that have no more that they can do;” and feels his heart respond to the exhortation. He reads the experience of the Psalmist, “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me;” and he rejoices to think, that he can anticipate the same support in corresponding circumstances. He hears the apostle say, “Add to your faith, courage;” and the faith by which he walks, and by which he overcomes the world, raises him above the power of the world’s disturbances: and thus, in those things which are, and must be the causes of alarm and terror to men in general, he feels himself a conqueror, and more than a conqueror, through Him that loved him. With him then it is no struggle to rise superior to the fear of death, for it is habitual to him to despise it. The sting is taken out, its terrors are gone; and Christ, who commands him not to fear death, has delivered him from its power.

If the Christian, therefore, is not only encouraged against fear, but is actually commanded not to fear; if he is taught to regard courage as a duty; and to glorify the Master whom he serves, by the firmness with which he overcomes that, from which other men are shrinking; we see that it is not without reason that he is daring; and that he is bold in the midst of danger, only because he is superior to it.