nd shorter road, yet as really either
tending another way, or leading to the right object with much hazard
and many obstacles.

Such is the case as regards the knowledge of our duty,--that kind of
knowledge which alone is really worth earnest seeking. And there is an
important reason why we should acquiesce in it;--because the conviction
that things are so has no slight influence in forming our minds into
that perfection of the religious character, at which it is our duty
ever to be aiming. While we think it possible to make some great and
important improvements in the subject of religion, we shall be
unsettled, restless, impatient; we shall be drawn from the
consideration of improving ourselves, and from using the day while it
is given us, by the visions of a deceitful hope, which promises to make
rich but tendeth to penury. On the other hand, if we feel that the way
is altogether closed against discoveries in religion, as being neither
practicable nor desirable, it is likely we shall be drawn more entirely
and seriously to our own personal advancement in holiness; our eyes,
being withdrawn from external prospects, will look more at home. We
shall think less of circumstances, and more of our duties under them,
whatever they are. In proportion as we cease to be theorists we shall
become practical men; we shall have less of self-confidence and
arrogance, more of inward humility and diffidence; we shall be less
likely to despise others, and shall think of our own intellectual
powers with less complacency.

It is one great peculiarity of the Christian character to be dependent.
Men of the world, indeed, in proportion as they are active and
enterprising, boast of their independence, and are proud of having
obligations to no one. But it is the Christian's excellence to be
diligent and watchful, to work and persevere, and yet to be in spirit
_dependent_; to be willing to serve, and to rejoice in the permission
to do so; to be content to view himself in a subordinate place; to love
to sit in the dust. Though in the Church a son of God, he takes
pleasure in considering himself Christ's "servant" and "slave;" he
feels glad whenever he can put himself to shame. So it is the natural
bent of his mind freely and affectionately to visit and trace the
footsteps of the saints, to sound the praises of the great men of old
who have wrought wonders in the Church and whose words still live,
being jealous of their honour, and feel