ness, but the writer does not perceive a want of correctness, in the essay, to which J. alludes. In that essay an objection was made to the sentiment, that free, moral There may be a want of clear-agency consists in doing as on chooses to do. Upon which, J. | who possess moral discernment, asks, "Does the writer ever act contrary to present choice?" The answer is readily given in the negative; but it does not hence follow, that the writer may not choose to do many things, which he does not effect, for want of opportunity or power. As doing, in this connexion, is distinguished from choice or volition, it means external action. And, therefore, if free moral agency consisted in doing as one chooses to do; then men could be free, no farther than they are able to do, and actually do, what ❘ they choose. But, men may be morally free and accountable, in desiring and choosing to do a thousand things, which they have not opportunity and ability to perform. David was morally free, and did what was acceptable to God, in choosing and intending to build Him a house, though he did not build it. Hence God said to him, "Whereas it was in thine heart to build an house unto my name, thou DIDST WELL that it was in thine heart." And, on the other hand, the forty men, who conspired and bound themselves with an oath to kill Paul, were morally free, and did what was offensive to God and deserving of his wrath, though their hands did not, and could not perform their enterprise. Hence, it was said, in the essay, to be the sentiment of Hopkinsians, that "free moral agency consists, simply, in choosing or willing." Upon this, J. asks, "Are not these powers or acts found with every domestick animal?" The answer is again in the affirmative: but it does not hence follow, that every domestick animal is a free moral agent. All free moral agency may consist in choice, and yet all choice may not be free moral agency. Every being, that chooses or wills, is a free agent; but those beings only,

are free moral agents. This was distinctly stated in the essay.Moral agency is not the same thing as a moral agent, he must be able to distinguish between right and wrong, or moral good and evil. This leads J. to ask another ques tion: "Is not this making conscience and understanding one?" I answer, not precisely; but it is making conscience a natural faculty of the mind, which, together with perception, memory, judgment, and several others, is comprehended under the general terms understanding or intellect. Conscience and understanding are not synonymous terms; nor are they ⚫ to be received as wholly different.' "Understanding," says J. " is a perceptive power." I would rather say, that perception is one of the powers of the understanding. J. adds, "by means of which (the understanding) we distinguish good and evil. Without this power, conscience cannot act." Here, I must beg leave to think, that J. is deficient, both in clearness and correctness; in clearness, because he does not make a proper distinction between the power of perception and the understanding, which comprehends all the natural powers and faculties of the mind; in correctness, because he represents the faculty of conscience as entirely distinct from the understanding. I agree with J. in saying, that "without clear light in the understanding, the decisions of conscience are liable to be wholly wrong." The verdict of conscience is always according to the evidence exhibited before it, whether that evidence be true or false. This, however, is not saying, as some have said, that conscience is one's opinion of his own action:" conscience obliges one to form a favourable or unfavourable opinion of his actions, according to the

B.

30

are

light in which they are viewed. | with J. that 'conscience urges one

II agree with J. again in saying, that "when the understanding is properly illuminated, conscience discharges its office. But, what is its office? Not to make the mor

to do his duty, and makes him feel his crime, when he neglects it; it being understood, that conscience does this, by teaching him what is right and duty, and what

al agent feel his guilt. Feeling | is wrong and criminal; in conse

belongs to the natural affections, and not to conscience. The office of conscience is, to judge and decide, whether the action, perceived by the enlightened understanding, is right or wrong, morally good or evil: and until this decision bt is made, it is impossible that a man should know he has done wrong, or feel a sense of guilt for what he has done. When any voluntary action becomes, by means of light, an object of perception; the conscience determines whether it is right or wrong, and accordingly approves or condemns it. I would not object, however, to saying,

THE FOOLISH TRAVELLER.

quence of which, he feels bound to do the one, and to blame for doing the other. But, I cannot, with certain philosophers, refer all our feelings to conscience, and so call it "the feeling faculty;" for I believe conscience to be a perceptive faculty, and all our feelings to be natural affections.

I conclude, with thanking J. for his frankness, and recommending to him, and to all the readers of the Magazine, an attentive perusal of the VIIIth Sermon, in Dr. Emmons's first volume.

A HOPKINSIAN.

please." "Well, Sir," said the A traveller, on his road to B. traveller, "does the road to the came to a place where the road right or to the left lie nearest to suddenly branched out into three. | my course?" " A fool," said the He enquired of a clownish fellow, rustic, "who asks direction, and who stood near the path, which yet is unwilling to be directed, was his road to B. and was told to ❘ must take his own course "

go directly forward. Now each of the other roads appeared level and pleasant, but this ascended a steep hill, and was very rough and rocky. The traveller enquired, whether he might not take one of the other roads, and was answered that neither of them would lead him to B. "But," said the trav- | while to pray with a right temper

So ministers of the gospel are often pressed with the question, whether sinners shall pray with unbelieving, impenitent hearts, or not pray at all. The fact is, to neglect to pray is one of the ways to hell; to pray with an unbelieving, impenitent heart, is another;

eller, "the road directly forward appears so rough and unpleasant, that I have a mind to try one of the others; which, Sir, is the best?" "I cannot tell you," was the answer; "they both lead wide from your course; and will neither of them bring you a foot nearer to B.; if you are determined to take one of them, you must take which you

is the only path to heaven; and ministers must direct them accordingly. And if any would know which is the greatest sin, to pray with an impenitent heart, or not pray, I do not know that a minister has the power of deciding. If ministers tell sinners less than their duty, they betray their trust; if they tell them the whole, and

sinners will not do it, the sin lies | pray without repenting or believat their door. Those ministers, ing But whether such men are and those only, who do not believe qualified to preach the gospel, dethat the carnal mind is enmity mands a doubt. against God, may act consistently, while they encourage sinners to

Religious Butelligence.

CONVERSION OF A UNIVERSALIST

MINISTER.

From the Christian Secretary, published at Hartford.

The Rev. Z. Crossman, who has for several years past preached in the Universalist Church at Norwich, but who for a few weeks had been absent, returned to his flock last week, and in a public print announced his intention to preach on the subsequent Sabbath; when on the day appointed he officiated, and after the close of the afternoon's discourse, he publicly renounced the doctrine of Universal

salvation; and stated in clear and impressive language, that, for the last nine months he had laboured

under strong mental feelings of doubt and uncertainty, respecting

the correctness of the doctrine

which he had professed to believe, and to preach, and that after diligently searching the Scripturespraying frequently and fervently for a right understanding of them, he had come to the conclusion, that the doctrine of Universal Sal vation was fallacious, and eminently dangerous to the immortal souls of those who place their trust and confidence in its efficacy. “I have," said he, "closed my last sermon in this house. I have already preached the doctrine of Universal Salvation longer than my conscience would justify. My eyes are now open, and I feel the sting of a reproving conscience. My errors are now plain before me; I can see with unclouded vision the tremendous gulf between the righteous and the wicked, over

A. C.
Evangelist.

which none can pass, except they repent and be washed in the blood of the Lamb. I must therefore abandon and renounce forever this dangerous doctrine, calculated to lead men to follow the dictates of their own evil devices, under the impression of salvation, without repentance or faith in the allsufficiency of the Lord Jesus Christ.

I feel an awful consciousness that I must one day stand before the judgment bar of God, to give an account for the deeds done in the body, and I fear the precious and immortal souls of many of my hearers may arise up in judgment against me, as the shepherd of a straying flock." He then commended them to God, and requested that they would through repentance and the washing of regeneration, look to Christ as the only medium through which to obtain eternal life. As he took his leave, he desired them on their return to their own dwellings, to read and meditate on the following passages of Scripture: Matt. xiii. 49, Rev.

xxii. 11.

CHRISTIAN MUNIFICENCE.

At one of the late religious anniversaries in London, Sir Thomas Baring related the following anecdote respecting the London Jews' Society:

At the first meeting which I attended as President of that Society, I found that it was in debt to no less an amount than £14,000. There seemed to be no human probability of more than £2000 of that sum being paid off. I felt myself, therefore, under the a

We learn from the Rev. William Cogswell, of Dedham, the Executor of the Will of Miss Lucy Avery, that she made the following bequests:-to the American Education Society, five hundred dollars; to the American Board, two hundred dollars;-to the Domestic Missionary Society of Massachusetts, one hundred dollars;to the Boston Female Jews' Society, one hundred dollars; and to the Theological Institution at Ban