ity from a conviction
that "the night cometh when no man can work," produces a certain
firmness of texture, which hardens us against the buffets of fortune,
and prevents our being very deeply penetrated by the cares and
interests, the goods or evils, of this transitory state. Thus this just
impression of the relative value of temporal and eternal things,
maintains in the soul a dignified composure through all the vicissitudes
of life. It quickens our diligence, yet moderates our ardour; urges us
to just pursuits, yet checks any undue solicitude about the success of
them, and thereby enables us, in the language of Scripture, "to use this
world as not abusing it," rendering us at once beneficial to others and
comfortable to ourselves.

But this is not all--besides the distinction between the nominal and the
real Christian, which results from the impressions produced on them
respectively by the _eternal duration_ of heavenly things, there is
another grounded on their _nature_, no less marked, nor less important.
They are stated in Scripture, not only as entitling themselves to the
notice of the true Christian from considerations of interest, but as
approving themselves to his judgment from a conviction of their
excellence, and yet farther, as recommending themselves to his feelings,
by their being suited to the renewed dispositions of his heart. Indeed
were the case otherwise, did not their qualities correspond with his
inclinations; however he might endure them on principles of duty, and be
coldly conscious of their superior worth, he could not lend himself to
them with cordial complacency, much less look to them as the surest
source of pleasure. But this is the light in which they are habitually
regarded by the true Christian. He walks in the ways of Religion, not
by constraint, but willingly; they are to him not only safe, but
comfortable; "ways of pleasantness as well as of peace." Not but that
here also he is from experience aware of the necessity of constant
support, and continual watchfulness; without these, his old estimate of
things is apt to return on him, and the former objects of his affections
to resume their influence. With earnest prayers, therefore, for the
Divine Help, with jealous circumspection, and resolute self-denial, he
guards against, and abstains from, whatever might be likely again to
darken his _enlightened judgment_, or to vitiate his reformed taste;
thus making it his unwearied endeavour to gro