produce the most blameless conduct, and thus to cut off many of the
causes of wretchedness, and to heal it wherever it was found. At her
command, wherever she has been duly acknowledged, many of the evils of
life have already fled. The prisoner of war is no longer led into the
amphitheatre to become a gladiator, and to imbrue his hands in the blood
of his fellow-captive for the sport of a thoughtless multitude. The
stern priest, cruel through fanaticism and custom, no longer leads his
fellow-creature to the altar to sacrifice him to fictitious gods. The
venerable martyr, courageous through faith and the sanctity of his life,
is no longer hurried to the flames. The haggard witch, poring over her
incantations by moon-light, no longer scatters her superstitious poison
among her miserable neighbours, nor suffers for her crime.

But in whatever way Christianity may have operated towards the increase
of this energy, or towards a diminution of human misery, it has operated
in none more powerfully than by the new views and consequent duties,
which it introduced on the subject of charity, or practical benevolence
and love. Men in ancient times looked upon their talents, of whatever
description, as, their own, which they might use, or cease to use at
their discretion. But the Author of our religion was the first who
taught that, however in a legal point of view, the talent of individuals
might belong exclusively to themselves, so that no other person had a
right to demand the use of it by force, yet in the Christian
dispensation they were but the stewards of it for good; that so much was
expected from this stewardship, that it was difficult for those who were
intrusted with it to enter into his spiritual kingdom; that these had no
right to conceal their talent in a napkin, but that they were bound to
dispense a portion of it to the relief of their fellow-creatures; and
that, in proportion to the magnitude of it, they were accountable for
the extensiveness of its use. He was the first who pronounced the