To draw the circle of reflection closer.--If _our_ inconsistencies were written in a book--if the instances of _our_ unbelief amidst evidences, of _our_ failures in temper and spirit, of _our_ misimprovement of the peculiar advantages of our situation, were recorded for the warning of others--is there any probability that we should acquire much honour by a comparison with the wife of Abraham? We do not indeed justify _her_ faults, but let us not overlook _our own_. We have better means, and brighter discoveries. In these last days God hath spoken unto us by his Son. We are, through faith, become the children of Abraham, interested in the new covenant, introduced into the family, and admitted to the friendship of God. We have seen the visions of patriarchal days, the promises and blessings of the ancient dispensation, the memorable and terrific descent of Jehovah on Sinai, the prefigurations of the Mosaic economy, the personal glories, the incarnate love, the agonizing death, the triumphant ascension of the Son of God: we enjoy means of instruction which no other age did or could possess. And wherein consists our superiority to former saints, even those whose imperfections are the most conspicuous? Surely, the observation may be retorted upon many hearers and professors of the gospel, in reference to their too frequent instances of inconsistency--it is time you _did_ believe! [Sidenote: Years before Christ, 1897.] The birth of Isaac, the promised seed was attended with great rejoicings. His very name, signifying _laughter_, was expressive of the happy occasion; and Sarah, in the ecstacy of her mind, exclaimed, "God hath made me to laugh, so that all that hear me will laugh with me." The birth of a child is naturally the subject of joy and congratulation; but the introduction of Isaac into the world, who had been so long and repeatedly promised, demanded and excited unusual satisfaction. Sarah, who introduced him with a mother's joy, nursed him herself with a mother's care. She was ignorant of the cruel absurdity which modern refinement has invented, of separating the tender offspring from its proper guardian and provider, and thus not only exposing it to many inconveniences and hardships, but nullifying the wise and kind arrangements of Providence. Alas! nature, reason, and religion, must all be violated in compliance with fashion! Need we feel surprised that barbarity should produce alienation, and that she who refuses to show tenderness, should fail of receiving attachment? Is it at all astonishing, that habits and sentiments foreign to domestic comfort should be acquired; and that, when proper discipline and personal superintendence are neglected, the young plant should shoot into unsightly irregularities of spirit and character?