God Worshipped in His Works

"The heavens declare the glory of God: and the firmament showeth his handy work. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge. There is no speech nor language where their voice is not heard." — Ps. 19. 1, 2, 3.

Men use a different speech in different climes,
But Nature hath one voice and only one.
Her wandering moon, her stars, her golden sun,
Her woods and waters, in all lands and times,
In one deep song proclaim the wondrous story.
They tell it to each other in the sky,
Upon the winds they send it sounding high,
Jehovah's wisdom, goodness, power, and glory.
I hear it come from mountain, cliff, and tree,
Ten thousand voices in one voice united;
On every side the song encircles me,
The whole round world reveres and is delighted.
Ah! why, when heaven and earth lift up their voice,
Ah! why should man alone nor worship nor rejoice?

— from The Religious Offering (1835) XXVI.

Heathen Faith in God

For my own part I find it difficult, not to yield a degree of respect to the humble and sincere faith even of a heathen; limited, as it probably is in almost all cases, to God, considered as the God of nature only. I recollect to have read in the Life of David Brainerd an interesting account of a poor Indian, with whom he had become acquainted in the American wilderness, who seems to have had such a faith.

The account, which this man gave of himself to Brainerd, who was then a missionary among the Indians residing near the Forks of the Delaware, was to this effect, and nearly in these words. He had formerly been like the rest of his heathen brethren; that is to say, he had been in the same unbelief and the same sins, until about four or five years before. At that time becoming very much distressed at what he had witnessed in himself and in others, he sought a retired and solitary place in the woods, and lived there entirely alone for a number of months. Having confidence neither in himself nor in his fellow-men, he could look no where in his sorrows but to that great Spirit, of whom he had a rude and imperfect conception as the God of nature, as a God shining in the stars and speaking in the winds. At length, he said, God comforted his heart, and showed him what he should do; and since that time he had known God, and had tried to serve him; and he now loved all men, of whatever nation or people they might be, as he had never done before. He built a small house, which Brainerd speaks of having visited; and having adorned it with various images cut upon the several parts, he consecrated it to religious uses, and was in the habit of performing his devotional and religious acts in it. Brainerd says, that he was treated by this person with uncommon courtesy; and that he seemed to be entirely hearty and sincere in his manifestations of kindness. He speaks of him as being a devout and zealous reformer; and adds, that he was told by the Indians, that he opposed their drinking strong liquor with all his power; and that, if at any time he could not dissuade them from it by all he could say, he would leave them and go crying into the woods. He represents him as being apparently sincere, honest, and conscientious in his own way, and according to his own religious notions. He further remarks, that he was looked upon and derided among most of the Indians as a precise zealot, who made a needless noise about religious matters; “but I must say,” he adds, “that there was something in his temper and disposition, which looked more like true religion than any thing I ever observed among other heathens.”

The faith of this poor Indian existed under the most unfavorable circumstances, but it gave him power; power over himself; power against threatening vices among his own people; power, in solitary places, with no companions but the wild woods and waters, to hold communion, after the imperfect manner of heathenism, with the Great Spirit, who is the Father both of the Christian and the Gentile. Of the origin of the faith of this Indian reformer, of its relation to the Atonement, of its ultimate effects upon his own character and happiness, we do not now undertake to speak. These are subjects, which require much discretion and piety rightly to solve them; and perhaps they are most wisely and safely left with him, who, as the common Father of all men, has the final destiny of all men in his hands. But we cannot help saying with great confidence, that it can be no discredit to a person, however advanced he may be in civilization and human culture, to regard such faith, whatever may be the amount of its supposed or its acknowledged imperfections, with a degree of sympathy and respect.

Among nations, both ancient and modern, that with more or less of civilization have not been visited and blessed with the lights of Christianity, we discover other instances illustrative of the same general views. Persons have been found of high intellectual endowments and attainments, to whom human literature and honors could furnish no true solace of soul; especially in seasons of disappointment and adversity. They have felt, and felt deeply too, that nothing human could be a substitute for the divine; that faith in humanity, whatever value might attach to it, could never supply the place of faith in the Supreme Power. And those among them, who have had the courage and wisdom to look to that higher Power with what light they had, feeble though it might be, have never failed to find increased light and increased strength of purpose. I think it would be difficult to read the life and death of Socrates, illustrated as they are by the sublime commentary of his religious sentiments, without a strong conviction, that God does not desert those, who have faith in him, even according to the dim light of nature. Numa, the religious legislator and the priest of the people over whom he presided as King, was a wiser, a juster, and better man for his faith. Camillus, the distinguished leader and commander of the Romans, the preserver of the city and the state which Numa had endeavored to establish in religious sentiments, “diligentissimus religionum cultor,” as he is described by the historians of his country, was a man of juster views and greater foresight, a man of greater energy and endurance, for his religious belief, for his confidence in the presiding Power of the universe, perplexed and imperfect as it undoubtedly was.

We repeat, therefore, it is no discredit and no error, to say, that we ought to respect the faith even of a heathen, especially when it has God for its object. Perhaps we may go further and say, that such faith, whenever and wherever found, has something in it, something in its own intrinsic nature, which may be said, not merely to deserve, but to command respect.

But if faith attaches value and honor to the character even of a heathen, to the Socrates of Athens, and to him, who, in his rude American hut, had the faith and the warning voice of Socrates without his knowledge and his moral and philosophical eloquence, then what limits shall we, or can we set to its value and to its renovating Power, when it rests upon the basis of God’s word added to the basis of nature! If God gives great strength to those few and scattered ones, even among the heathen, who are enabled to believe strongly in himself, how much greater resources, and how much greater strength must those have, who have faith in God, not only as the God of nature and of providence, but as the God of the Bible; who reveals himself not dimly as in the light of heathenism, but clearly in the light of revealed truth; not merely in the terrible attribute of his justice, but in justice mingled with and chastened by mercy; with his wonderful announcement of the way of salvation through the Atonement, and with all his gracious Promises applicable to every situation.

 — The Life of Faith (1852) Part 1, Chapter 13.

The Greater Power of Religious Faith

If natural faith is powerful, as we have seen that it is, religious faith is much more so; aiming at higher objects, and producing greater results. And this is what we should naturally expect from the supports, on which they respectively rest.

Natural faith rests upon natural things: that is to say, it is faith in man; in man’s wisdom and man’s capability. Religious faith rests upon religious things; that is to say, it is faith in God’s wisdom and God’s mighty resources. The man who possesses religious faith, may be said to have the power, of adding the infinite to the finite. He relies on the divine promises, in the occasions on which they properly apply, as things in a PRESENT fulfillment; and thus incorporates with his own comparative and acknowledged weakness, the mighty energy of a present God.

And besides all this, God bestows especial honor upon those, who possess religious faith. They and they only can properly be regarded as his own, his chosen and adopted children. Their names are written upon his heart of infinite love. Every element of his nature is pledged in their behalf. And hence we should not be surprised, when we consider what power faith has in itself by its natural law, and also that it takes hold of the infinite God, and enlists in our behalf his mighty heart of love, that the Holy Scriptures are sprinkled over, as it were, with illustrations and declarations of the immense efficacy and of the wonderful triumphs of this divine principle:

"Faith, mighty faith, the promise sees,

"And looks to that alone;

"Laughs at impossibilities,

"And cries, IT SHALL BE DONE."

— edited from The Life of Faith (1852) Part 1, Chapter 3.

Energy and Faith

Religious faith, in perfect analogy to that which is natural, brings personal and mighty energy to its possessor; and places in his hand, in the sharp contest with sin and Satan, the shield of victory. It does this, among other things, and on the same principle that natural faith does, by giving exceeding power to his religious volitions or determinations.

The man, who has no faith, is necessarily powerless. He is smitten by the irreversible law of nature, as well as by the present and special frown of God. He lies prostrate upon the ground, a mere imbecile, useless and impracticable alike to good and evil; but he, who has faith, acts, and acts vigorously. Faith diffuses a calm but effective energy through the whole man: especially is this true of religious faith. Natural faith gives power in the subjection of natural enemies; religious faith gives power and victory over enemies that are spiritual.

Natural faith is patient, persevering, and successful in ascertaining natural truths, and in extending the boundaries of natural knowledge. Religious faith sits patiently at the fountains of religious instruction; and holding inward intercourse, and being powerful with God, it obtains knowledge of those higher things of a moral and religious nature, which even the angels desire to look into. Natural faith passes over natural barriers, over barren wastes and tangled forests, over valleys and mountains, over rivers and oceans; but religious faith, coming in conflict with religious or spiritual obstacles, resists and conquers all hindrances, whatever they be, which stand between the soul and the possession of the true spiritual kingdom; contending against sin original and sin practical, against temptations from within and temptations from without, against Satan invisible and Satan embodied in human agency, and crying with the victorious voice of the one in the wilderness, “make straight the way of the Lord.” Natural faith unites together families, stretches abroad the connecting links of neighborhoods, constitutes corporations, and in the greatest extent of its power lays the foundation of states and nations. Religious faith, distrustful of its own power of vision, looks at things with God’s eye; and viewing them in the higher and divine light, expands the limits of social connection and identifies them with the limits of the universe. It places God at the head. It unites in the sweep of its broad view not only individuals and families, not only neighborhoods and nations, but the inhabitants of distant worlds, and all higher orders and classes of beings into one, binding all to the great center, and constituting universal harmony.

— edited from The Life of Faith (1852) Part 1, Chapter 3.

Faith is the Wellspring of Literature

Faith is the basis, or rather is the source, the wellspring of whatever is most valuable in literature. Where there is no faith, it results unavoidably, that there is no true feeling, no genuine “emotionality,” no deep and abiding sympathy with whatever is true in morals, or beautiful in nature. In other words, a man without faith is a man, to a considerable degree at least, without true affection; one who looks upon nature and upon his fellow-men to trifle with them, and to sneer at them, and not to trust and to love them. Having no sympathy for others, he can command no sympathy for himself. The man without faith, therefore, in literature as well as in other things, is a man without abiding power; and we could almost say, that he is a man without any real power whatever, except, as in the case of Voltaire and others of his class, the power, which involves of course the faculty of a sharp external observation, of the mere artist, and the power of ridicule; neither of which either constitutes or implies the existence of those elements, which can command, for any length of time, the love and the homage of mankind. Such a man is no Homer, no Shakspeare, no Cervantes. He cannot with any justice be regarded as the possessor of that creative faculty, a faculty having its very life in belief, which can give birth to imaginary creations of men and nature, of thought and action; creations, which, in being true to life around and life within, are not the less real for being imaginary. He may understand perspective; he may be a connoisseur; he may be unexceptionable and complete in whatever is addressed to the outward eye, in whatever is comprehended under the term artistic; but his work, after all, will stand forth in the eyes of men just what it really is, a marble statue, well sculptured, well proportioned, and well in every other respect, except that the principle of life, the immortal spirit, is not there.

— edited from The Life of Faith (1853) Part 1, Chapter 2.

Faith in God

My faith, oh God, unshaken stands
In the great doings of Thy hands;
Thou hast the power, and Thou the will,
And what Thou sayest wilt fulfill.

I know the threatening, hostile host,
With many a proud, insulting boast,

Stands fiercely, in their banner'd wrath,
Across thy weeping children's path.

But faith looks up with tearful eye,
And prayer ascends with heart-felt cry;
And Thou, who see'st the mourner's tear,
And bending low, his prayer dost hear;

Thou, in the great appointed hour,
Thou, in the moment of Thy power,
Their banner'd host shall smite and slay,
And sweep their impious strength away.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) LXIX.

The Conqueror

Wouldst thou the power possess
All evil things to slay,
And, with the arm of victory,
O'er life and death bear sway?

Wouldst thou go forth with strength,
And with a force to tread
Upon the lion's fearful path,
And crush the serpent's head?

Then gird thyself with LOVE;
Put that bright armor on;
And know thine enemies shall fail;
Thy victory is won.

Like snow-flakes on the sea,
That perish as they fall,
They fade beneath LOVE'S mighty power,
The CONQUEROR of all.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) LXVI.

The Quiet Person of Faith

The religiously quiet man, like other men less advanced in grace, has experienced the sharpness of the inward contest; but God has helped him. Having striven with his corrupt nature, having passed through, as it were, the storms of regeneration, he has at last entered into the haven of inward rest.

Inwardly instructed in the limitations of the human understanding, he rests from reasonings in all cases where reasoning owes homage to faith. God is his reason. Taught by the great Teacher of the soul, that the true end of desires is to be found in the wisdom of the Infinite, he quietly ceases from all those desires which have their origin in a corrupted nature, and finds all his aims and purposes harmonized and fulfilled in the fulfillment of God's purposes. God is his desire. While he condemns sin, he is not impatient with it; but bears with it in the same spirit of calmness that God does; never doubting that, in the great issue of things which is rapidly approaching, the unity and love of God will over­come the divisions and hatreds of Satan. Devoted to the will of God to the extent of his power, and resting firmly upon the promises in unshaken faith, he is exempt alike from the reproofs of conscience and the agitations of fear.

A divine peace, of which God alone could be the author, is written upon his heart, his countenance, his actions, his whole life. The outward man is the calm mirror of the man within. He sees the commotions of the world; he beholds the surges and hears the noise of its contentions; but it does not move him from his position; it does not alter the fixedness of his purpose;  it does not disturb the peace of his spirit. His countenance, written over with signatures which have their source in the centre of his spirit, shows neither the scowl of anger, nor the distortions of fear. Not that he is indifferent to the strife; but he believes and knows that the God in whom he trusts has power to control it. He sees the calm beyond.

Such men, more than any others, bear the image of God; whose mighty power is established and operates in peace and in silence. A perfect being is, by the very fact of his perfection, unalterably tranquil. Jesus Christ, who was God revealed in humanity, and who, therefore, was the model of the perfect man, was a quiet man; he did not attract the world's notice by his noise. On the contrary, the world, disappointed that he came without observation, was attracted to him, contrary to what is usual with it, by the calm but mighty influence of his purity and gentleness. Meek, quiet, loving, doing what the divine order of things called him to do, he gave no occasion for reconsiderations and repentance, but left the evidence of his divinity in the perfection of everything he said and did. And in all cases will it be found, in the history of all good men of all ages, that the harmony of thought with truth, of feeling with thought, and of conscience with feeling; in other words, the perfect adjustment of character, will find its result and its testimony in inward and outward peace.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 11.

Power of Faith

"Who through faith subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped  the  edge of  the  sword, out of weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of the aliens."  Heb. xi. 33, 34.

I sat me down in earth's benighted vale,
And had no courage and no strength to rise;
Sad to the passing breeze I told my tale,
And bowed my head, and drained my weeping eyes.
But Faith came by, and took me by the hand;
And now the valleys rise, the mountains fall.
Welcome the stormy sea, the dangerous land!
With Faith to aid me, I can conquer all.
Faith lays her hand upon the lion's mane;
Faith fearless walks within the serpent's den,
Faith smiles amid her children round her slain;
When worlds are burning, cries unmoved, AMEN.
Yes, I am up, far upward on the wing;
The withered arm is strong, the broken heart doth sing.

— American Cottage Life (1850) XXXIX.

Weak, Yet Having All Power

The Christian is weak, and yet he has all power.  He has renounced his own strength, as well as his own wisdom. But having no power in himself, he may be said to have all power in God. He can almost say with the Savior, "Thinkest thou that I cannot now pray to my Father, and he shall presently give me more than twelve legions of angels?” And He, who gives him strength, gives him also honor; so that he, who is despised among men, has all honor with God. His name is cast out as evil among men; but it is written and registered in bright letters on the heart of the Infinite.

It is in such views that we find an explanation of the contrasted but triumphant expressions of the Apostle Paul, in his second Epistle to the Corinthians: "We are troubled on every side, yet not  distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed.”

"For which cause," he adds, "we faint not; but, though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day. For our light addiction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are unseen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are unseen are eternal."

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 8.

Thou Giver of the Rising Light

I.
 

Thou Giver Of the rising light,
Thou Author of the morning ray;
At whose command the shades of night
Are changed to bright and sudden day;
Thou too canst rend the clouded heart,
Enveloped in the shades of sin;
And let the light, that dwelt apart,
The glory and the gladness in.
 

II.
 

Oh God, our Father and our Friend,
Dark is the cloud that wraps us now;
But not in vain our prayers ascend,
Nor hopeless at thy feet we bow.
'Tis in the dark, distressing hour,
That thou dost hear thy people's cry;
And come and clothe them in thy power,
And hide them in thy majesty.

— Religious Maxims (1846).

Labor Empowered by God

One reason that the labor of the truly holy man ceases to be labor, in the ordinary sense of that term, is, that there is a divine power working in him. The Infinite Mind is necessarily the life of the created and finite mind, so long as sin does not separate them from each other. Man is the instrument, in which and through which God works.

The Savior himself said, "I can of myself do nothing." The wonderful power which was manifested in him, in his incarnate state, had its source in his Father, from whom, in the exercise of faith, he continually drew divine strength. [See Acts, Ch. 1:3, and other passages of similar import.] The language of Paul and of other holy men, who derived their strength from God through Christ, is, "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." Philipp. 4: 13.

There is an inward conviction, a consciousness felt in the depths of the pious man's spiritual nature, that virtue has a necessary alliance with power, and that the good man never, can be deserted. God, who inspires this remarkable conviction, is pledged, both by nature and by promise, to see it realized. And thus the man of God, who feels this increased strength, finds that easy which would otherwise be hard to him.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 7.

Recognizing the Spirit's Guidance: Outward Manner of Life

The teachings of the Holy Spirit will have a tendency to beautify and perfect the outward manner, as well as the inward experience. And accordingly he, who is truly under this divine direction, will always find his conduct characterized by the utmost decency, propriety, and true courteousness. I believe it is a common remark, that a truly devout and holy person may, in general, be easily recognized by the outward manner. And this remark, which is confirmed by experience, has its foundation in nature. The natural life, which is inordinately full of self, and is often prompted in its movements by passion, pride, and prejudice, will of course develop itself in an outward manner as extravagant, inconsistent, and imperfect, as the inward source from which it springs. Hence it is that we so often see, in the intercourse of man with man, so much that shocks our notions of propriety; so much in word or in action that is characterized by violence or levity; so much that is unsuitable to the time and place. But he, on the contrary, in whom the natural life is slain, and in the center of whose heart the Holy Spirit has taken up his residence to inspire it with truth and love, will discover an outward manner as true, as simple, and as beautiful, as the inward perfection from which it has its origin. A voice inspired with gentleness and love, a countenance not only free from the distortions of passion but radiant with inward peace, a freedom from unbecoming gayety and thoughtless mirth, a propriety of expression resulting from seriousness of character, a disposition to bear meekly and affectionately with the infirmities of others, a placid self-possession, an unaffected but strict regard to the proprieties of time, place, and station, can hardly fail to impress upon the outward beholder a conviction of the purity and power which dwell within.

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (2nd edition, 1844) Part 3, Chapter 6.

The Power of Prayer

Whenever thou hearest God's people praying, perhaps in yonder little prayer-meeting, perhaps in some solitary place in the wilderness, perhaps in the desolate and lonely room of some poor widow, then know that the day of divine manifestation is near at hand. We cannot tell, perhaps, in what direction or in what way the manifestation of God's presence is to be made; but we cannot doubt the general fact that it is approaching.

All persons whose fullness of faith has brought them into the state of union with God, know this to be the case. They know (without knowing how they  know it) that the movement of desire in their own souls, arising sometimes under remarkable circumstances and in a remarkable way, is the continuation, the distant but affiliated throbbing, of the great heart of the universe. And with such a conviction existing in their minds, it obviously becomes easy, and, perhaps we may say, necessary for them, to exercise that particular form of faith which is appropriate to their state of desire. Having, therefore, a desire for a particular thing, and believing that this desire is only the vibration from the great center, the finite repetition of the infinite desire, they cannot doubt that there will be a manifestation of God, correspondent to that form of inward feeling which exists in him as well as in themselves.

If what has been said is correct, then it may properly be added, that there is something not only impressive but sublime, and almost terrible, in a holy man's prayer; whether it take the form of supplication, or of blessing, or of praise. That praying voice which thou hearest, broken though it may be with weakness and trembling with age, is not more the voice of man than of God. Oh, do not trifle with it, if thou wouldst not trifle with God himself! Uttered in these last days, it is nevertheless true, that, in its attributes of origin and power, it is the voice of Abraham, of Moses, of Daniel; — men who had power with God, because God had power with them. It is the chain of communication between two worlds; the circumference, showing the light and heat of the center. It brings down the sunlight of God's favor, or the lightning of his displeasure. If it curses thee, then thou art cursed; if it blesses thee, then thou art blessed. If it expresses itself in pity, then the tear of compassion is falling upon thee from the omniscient eye. Listen reverently, therefore, to the good man's prayer. God is in it.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 7, Chapter 11.

Something Left

Let want and persecution come,

And grief in all its forms of gloom;

Fear not. Thy strength is from above.

Fear not. Thou yet hast power to LOVE.

Let tribulation's evil day

Take friend, and home, and wealth away;

Fear not. Though all things else may part,

They cannot take away the heart.

The power to LOVE doth still remain,

With goods bereft, and prospects slain;

The power to LOVE, which cannot die,

When all things else in ruin lie.

If this is left, not all is gone;

If this is left, march boldly on;

If this is left, thou still art whole;

LOVE is the Heaven of the soul.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) XLIV.

The True Ground of Joy

"Notwithstanding, in this rejoice not, that the spirits are subject unto you; but rather rejoice because your names are written in heaven."  Luke x. 20.

Rejoice not in thy wealth of house and fields,
Nor build your hopes and bliss on earthly fame;
Earth but a momentary glory yields,
Its brightest joys are as an empty name.
Oh, fix no fondness there; 't will prove a thorn;
Many, that deeply loved, have deeply rued
Attachments so unworthy; and they warn
Others from treading where their feet have stood.
The Savior teaches a far wiser course,
To deem it glory, not that we possess
Mere wealth or power, or learning's proud resource,
Which mock us with the show of happiness;
But that we have, in that dread Book on high,
Our names inscribed of God, in words that never die.

— American Cottage Life (1850) XXII.

How the Power of Love Prevails

Certainly it is not surprising that love, operating without cessation in this divine manner, should have power. Powerful in its truth and powerful in its beauty, it acquires additional power by its mode of operation. Even, therefore, when it is estimated on natural principles, and with reference to its own laws of influence, we cannot doubt its mighty efficiency; — an efficiency, which is more than equal to all possible difficulties, when it is attended, as it cannot fail to be, with the divine presence and favor.

If these remarks are correct, then it may be added, that the holy man has power with his fellow-men, on the same general principles and much in the same way, as Christ had when here on earth. Christ, considered in his human nature, may truly be described as a man. And like other holy men, he was full of the Holy Ghost; — but the divine power which was in him showed itself to others chiefly through the medium of a holy sympathy. There is, perhaps, no trait of his character more remarkable than this. It was sympathy which brought the Savior down from heaven to earth; it was sympathy which, in early times, carried apostles and martyrs to the stake; and it is sympathy, like that of the Savior, which, at the present day, conducts his followers to the dwellings of the poor, the sick, and the ignorant; which secures their presence and supplications in the church and the prayer-meeting; which inspires their self-denying labors for the prisoner and the criminal; and which separates them from the endearments of home, and sends them to the toils, the sufferings, and the death of heathen lands.

What is here said of sympathy is, at the same time, said of love. They are two names for one principle. Sympathy is only another name for love, when it is exercised in such a way as to harmonize, in the most beneficial manner, with the wants and the situation of others. We repeat, therefore, that a principle so divine as this must ultimately renovate and control the world. And it will do it in the manner which has already been mentioned, namely, by its attractive rather than its aggressive influence. Reaching in every direction, and attracting the attention of all men by its innate loveliness, it draws them gently but surely to itself. It prevails by means of its truth and beauty, and not less by that gentle touch of fellow-feeling, with which it weeps with every tear, and smiles upon every smile.

And one of its crowning glories is this. It conquers without knowing how or why it conquers; — the mighty power which is in it being hidden in its own simplicity of spirit.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 7, Chapter 9.

The Power of Love

The man, therefore, who is inspired and moved by the sentiments of pure or holy love, is a man of power. The maxim, that knowledge is power, is not more true than the proposition, that love is power. Limited in knowledge, and weak perhaps in social position, the man who loves is powerful by character. His mere opinions, divested as they necessarily are of the perversions of selfishness, inspire more confidence than the proofs all arguments of other men. His wish becomes a law, and has far more influence with those around him than the arts and compulsions, which a spirit less pure and generous would be likely to apply. Power is lodged in him, lives in him, moves in him, goes out from him. It costs him no effort. It is felt, almost without being exercised.

A Person of Faith and Prayer May Have Great Influence

Think not that nothing can be done, because thou art little in the eyes of this world. The result does not depend upon what thou art in the world, but upon what thou art in God. It is God only, who is the source of all good. Various are the instruments he employs. He selects them, and he places them in the appropriate situations to be used by him. The power, whether it be more or less, is not in the instrument, in itself considered, but in God, who selects and locates it. In a multitude of instances has the declaration of the apostle been illustrated, that "God hath chosen the weak things of the world, to confound the things which are mighty." [1 Corinthians 1:27.] A man of faith and prayer, however humble his situation in life, may yet have influence enough to affect the destiny of nations.

I will refer to an instance, which seems to be appropriate in this connection, and will illustrate what has now been said. Some years since, I was acquainted with an individual who has now gone to his rest and his reward. I have reference to the late William Ladd, the mention of whose name will recall cherished recollections to many hearts. In early life, he followed the sea; — in the course of a few years he became the commander of a merchant vessel, and acquired some amount of property. On quitting the sea, he purchased a farm in the inland town of Minot, in the state of Maine. On reading a tract on peace, written by one of the former presidents of Bowdoin College, he was led to reflect upon the inconsistency of war with the Gospel. Having enjoyed favorable opportunities of education before going to sea, and being a person of a strong mind, he conceived the idea of putting an end to war throughout the world by means of a Congress of Nations, which should have power to establish an international code, and also a High Court of Nations. What a mighty project to be brought about by such limited agency!

A few years before his death, I visited his retired residence. He showed me the room in which he had written the numerous papers, and even volumes, on the subject of war. Walking with him in one of his beautiful fields, he pointed to a small cluster of trees at a little distance, and said, "It was beneath those trees that I solemnly consecrated myself in prayer to this one work of impressing upon the minds of men the principles of peace." For many years he spent a large portion of his time in going from city to city, and from town to town, in almost all parts of the United States, introducing the subject of peace to associations of ministers, conversing with all classes of persons in relation to it, and lecturing wherever he could find an audience. I met with him often, and have been deeply affected with his simplicity and fixedness of purpose.  He fully believed that God had inspired within him that central idea, around which the labors of his life turned. And those who knew him intimately, could hardly fail to be impressed with a similar conviction. He corresponded with distinguished individuals in Europe; — he scattered his numerous tracts and other writings on this momentous subject in all parts of the world. For many years the important movements of the American Peace Society appeared to rest upon him far more than upon any other individual. He died; and although he was preceded and has been followed by others of a kindred spirit, he was the means under God, of giving an impulse to the cause of peace, which is felt throughout the world. Society, penetrated by the great thought of universal pacification, seems to be brought to a pause. At Brussels, at Paris, at Frankfort-on-the-Maine, at London, we see nations, as it were, assembled in great Congresses, and consulting on their position and duties, in consequence of the impulse which God was pleased to communicate, in a great degree, through the labors of this comparatively humble individual. Let us not, then, look upon the outward person or the outward situation. It is one of the attributes of God to deduce great results from small causes. Wherever there is faith in God, there is power, — whatever may be the situation of the person who exercises it.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 7, Chapter 7.

Holiness is Power

If, as the wise men of the world assure us, "knowledge is power," the Christian can assert with still greater truth, that  holiness is power. But holiness wins its victories, not by the accessory aids of cunning devices and of artificial eloquence; but by its own intrinsic excellence. It is gentle in its language, and mild in its gesticulation; but the energy of the great God is heard with transcendent efficacy in its still small voice.

— Religious Maxims (1846) CVI.