t a care for the things of God, that it was
impossible not to entertain for them the greatest respect and regard.
These, however, are such rare cases, that it cannot be necessary to do
more than thus notice them. But the idleness and want of interest which
I grieve for, is one which extends itself but too impartially to
knowledge of every kind: to divine knowledge, as might be expected, even
more than to human. Those whom we commonly find careless about their
general lessons, are quite as ignorant and as careless about their
Bibles; those who have no interest in general literature, in poetry, or
in history, or in philosophy, have certainly no greater interest, I do
not say in works of theology, but in works of practical devotion, in the
lives of holy men, in meditations, or in prayers. Alas, the interest of
their minds is bestowed on things far lower than the very lowest of all
which I have named; and therefore, to see them desiring something only a
little higher than their present pursuits, could not but be encouraging;
it would, at least, show that the mind was rising upwards. It may,
indeed, stop at a point short of the highest, it may learn to love
earthly excellence, and rest there contented, and seek for nothing more
perfect; but that, at any rate, is a future and merely contingent evil.
It is better to love earthly excellence than earthly folly; it is far
better in itself, and it is, by many degrees, nearer to the kingdom
of God.

There is another case, however, which I cannot but think is more
frequent now than formerly; and if it is so, it may be worth while to
direct our attention to it. Common idleness and absolute ignorance are
not what I wish to speak of now, but a character advanced above these; a
character which does not neglect its school-lessons, but really attains
to considerable proficiency in them; a character at once regular and
amiable, abstaining from evil, and for evil in its low and grosser
forms, having a real abhorrence. What, then, you will say, is wanting
here? I will tell you what seems to be wanting--a spirit of manly, and
much more of Christian, thoughtfulness. There is quickness and
cleverness; much pleasure, perhaps, in distinction, but little in
improvement; there is no desire of knowledge for its own sake, whether
human or divine. There is, therefore, but little power of combining and
digesting what is read; and, consequently, what is read passes away, and
takes no root in the mind. T