SPEECH 
 
 OF THE 
 
 REV. DR. DUFF, 
 
 AT THE ANNIVERSARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 reft of gbtcilanfr’s jfom'p Jflfeston#, 
 
 EXETER HALL, MAY 8, 1837. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 GEORGE BERGER, HOLYWELL STREET, STRAND. 
 
 Price Twopence. 
 
SPEECH. 
 
 The Reverend Gentleman, in rising to propose the third 
 Resolution, was received by the audience with loud cheers. 
 First of all he proceeded at some length to detail, on the 
 authority of a recent Government Report, some of the 
 cruelties of Indian superstition. He significantly pointed to 
 the preaching of the everlasting Gospel, as the primary in¬ 
 strument to be employed in regenerating a guilty world; 
 adding that for India not sixty or a hundred, but sixty or a 
 hundred thousand teachers and preachers were wanted, and 
 that in order to raise such a number, Christian schools and 
 colleges are begun to be established. He emphatically pro¬ 
 claimed our simple, absolute dependence on the influences of 
 the Holy Spirit to render all the instituted means of grace 
 efficacious. He illustrated the potency of sound, useful 
 knowledge in demolishing the systems of Hinduism, and 
 pointed out the necessity of supplying the higher knowledge 
 of Christianity. To prevent mistakes, he endeavoured to show 
 how the two kinds of knowledge ought ever to be combined. 
 Most true it is, said he, that I for one have advocated with 
 all the strenuousness of which my nature is capable, the in¬ 
 troduction into India of the largest range of sound European 
 knowledge in every imaginable department, and that too for 
 reasons which in this very hall I formerly stated at large, and 
 which have proved more than satisfying to all really en¬ 
 lightened and reflecting minds, but which on that very 
 account it is wholly unnecessary for the present to recapitu¬ 
 late. Be it remembered, however, that in order to secure all 
 the great and important uses and advantages of knowledge, 
 apart from its manifold abuses and disadvantages, I at the 
 same time laboured to demonstrate, that it should not only be 
 accompanied with, but every where, both at home and 
 abroad, actually based on a valid substratum of religious 
 truth, the only sound religious truth in the world, that is, 
 Christianity. (Great cheers.) How often do we now-a-days 
 hear of the streams of this knowledge flowing through the 
 land, and fertilizing the intellects of the people into a rich 
 harvest of intelligence? Yea, after the manner and ampli¬ 
 tude of Oriental hyperbole, how often do we hear this know¬ 
 ledge compared to a mighty ocean that has already begun, 
 and is finally destined to encompass the whole world of intel¬ 
 lectual being ? Well, granting for a moment to the adorers 
 of knowledge their very hearts’ desire, may we not for their 
 special edification push their own parallel into a few particu- 
 
3 
 
 lars ? Modern knowledge, say they, is like the great ocean, 
 seen to roll its waters on every shore ! What then !—and if, 
 like the great ocean, it has its serviceable tides, may it not 
 have its destructive inundations too ? (Cheers.) If, like the 
 great ocean, it has depths profound, may it not have its straits 
 and shallows too ? (Cheers.) If, like the great ocean, it has 
 its roads and havens, may it not have its rocks and quick¬ 
 sands too ? (Cheers.) If, like the great ocean, it has its gales 
 and gentle breezes, may it not have its storms and tempests 
 too? (Great cheers.) If then, by some incontrollable neces¬ 
 sity the two kinds of knowledge, secular and sacred, were to 
 be separated by an impassable gulf; if, by the same in¬ 
 controllable necessity, we were left no alternative but to 
 adopt one or other, but only one; and if, to decide our pre¬ 
 ference and election, the question were peremptorily put. 
 Which of the two do you choose ? may I not venture to 
 affirm, in the name of this great audience, that in such a 
 peculiar and extreme case, there is not a real Amr^-Christian 
 in the British empire that would hesitate for a moment to 
 reply, I choose that knowledge, that blessed knowledge of 
 Jesus Christ, and him crucified, which is contained in the 
 Bible, in preference to all the secular knowledge in the 
 world? (Loud cheers.) Never, perhaps, has the immeasur¬ 
 able superiority of the latter been more strikingly displayed, 
 than by Cowper, in those beautiful lines wherein he contrasts 
 the condition and prospects of the poor, but pious English 
 cottager, that sat 
 
 “ At her own door, 
 
 Pillow and bobbins all her ‘ little store,’ ” 
 
 with the condition and prospects of the celebrated French 
 infidel Voltaire. 
 
 “ She knows, and knows no more, her Bible true, 
 
 Truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew, 
 
 And in that charter reads with sparkling eyes, 
 
 Her title to a treasure in the skies. 
 
 Oh, happy peasant! oh, unhappy bard ! 
 
 His the mere tinsel, hers the rich reward. 
 
 He, praised perhaps for ages yet to come, 
 
 She never heard of half a mile from home: 
 
 He lost in error his vain heart prefers, 
 
 She safe in the simplicity of hers.” (Cheers.) 
 
 This graphic allusion of Cowper to “ the brilliant French¬ 
 man,” in connexion with the present subject, leads us directly 
 and by a natural association of ideas, to notice the most terrible 
 exemplifications of the tendency and effects of knowledge 
 without religion, recorded in the annals of all time. Some 
 of the original founders of the modern French philosophy, 
 about the middle of last century, were, beyond all debate, in 
 their own sense of the term, philanthropists. Was not 
 
K 
 
 4 
 
 theirs a system, which, according to their calculations, was to 
 regenerate the world without the aid of religion at all ? 
 Before their system, was not barbarism every where to give 
 place to civilization—preponderant rights to equality—and 
 tyranny to liberty? Was not truth, so long buried beneath 
 the rubbish of ages of ignorance and error, to experience a 
 species of resurrection? Was not reason, so long befooled by 
 prejudice and superstition, to be restored to her rightful 
 ascendancy in the intellectual firmament ? In a word, was not 
 the new philosophy to construct an altar whence the flames 
 were expected to ascend, and spread, and brighten, till they 
 poured the stream of illumination round the globe. Mag¬ 
 nificent rising sun of promise ! And doomed how inglori- 
 ously to set in darkness! Alas! the heart of man is 
 deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked ; who can 
 know it ? Not one who does, but sees it clearly reflected in the 
 spotless mirror of God’s own word. (Hear, hear.) And the 
 Encyclopaedists and Economists, and the whole body of fra¬ 
 ternizing illuminati of France, in casting that eternal word 
 in derision away from them, did thereby cast away the only 
 lamp that would have guided them into the labyrinth of the 
 heart’s natural perverseness. (Hear, hear.) Who then need 
 wonder that, wholly ignorant as they were of the real nature 
 of the disease, they should have blundered fatally in pre¬ 
 scribing a remedy? And has not the disastrous issue ac¬ 
 cordingly shown, that, instead of kindling a light that might 
 illuminate the world, they were only fanning a flame that was 
 soon to envelop it in a universal conflagration ? (Loud 
 cheers.) Ah ! if one of the better-intentioned of the earlier 
 fathers of the new philosophy had only arisen from the 
 grave, and alighted in the vale of Paris during the midnight 
 gloom of the reign of terror ; if there he had, in personified 
 forms, met his own philosophy metamorphosed into undis¬ 
 guised Atheism, openly proclaiming there was no God, and 
 that death was an eternal sleep ; and along with Atheism, her 
 legitimate offspring, savage anarchy wielding his tremendous 
 scimitar fresh reeking with the blood of thousands of unhappy 
 victims, slaughtered in the name of humanity; ah ! me- 
 thinks he would start back as aghast at the hideous aspect of 
 his own double progeny, as the archangel, fallen from the 
 shapeless monsters he encountered at the gates of Pan¬ 
 demonium! (Great applause.) And, like the thunder- 
 striken seraph, he might thus break silence : — 
 
 <f Whence and what art thou, execrable shape, 
 
 So strange thine outcry, and thy words so strange! 
 
 What thing art thou thus double formed? and why, 
 
 In this infernal vale first met, thou calld’st 
 Me Father, and that phantom call’dst my Son? 
 
 I know thee not, and never saw till now 
 
 Sight more detestable than him and thee.” (Cheers.) 
 
5 
 
 To whom his own darling philosophy, now transformed into 
 naked, hideous Atheism, thus replies:— 
 
 “ Hast thou forgot me, then, and do I seem 
 Now in thine eye so foul ? once deemed so fair, 
 
 * * * when at the Assembly * * * * 
 
 ****** with thee combined 
 In bold conspiracy against heaven’s King. (Loud cheers.) 
 Likest to thee in shape and countenance bright, 
 
 When, shining heavenly fair, a goddess arm’d, 
 
 Out of thy head I sprung.” 
 
 Instantly demon Anarchy, Atheism’s natural child, stands 
 forth,— 
 
 “ Fierce as ten furies, terrible as hell, 
 
 With earthquake shock he falls upon the hapless father.” 
 
 And, more successful in the onslaught than his pandemo¬ 
 nium prototype, he drags him quivering to the guillotine, 
 and speedily holds up his severed head to the gaze of a 
 frenzied multitude, an everlasting monument of the triumph 
 of philosophy without religion—of the golden age of equal 
 rights—of the halcyon reign of unbounded liberty ! (Tre¬ 
 mendous cheers.) With views and feelings like these on the 
 subject of “ knowledge without religion,” is it probable, is 
 it possible, is it even conceivable, that we should ever have 
 cherished the fancies and the visions, the schemes and the 
 prospects of its adoring worshippers ? For reasons which 
 have more than satisfied many of the wisest and most devoted 
 Christians in this land, we have, on the one hand, with un¬ 
 abated earnestness, advocated the introduction into India of 
 sound knowledge in its largest, widest, most unlimited sense, 
 and that too in close and immediate connexion with the great 
 missionary enterprize. But, on the other hand, we protest and 
 declare, by the venerated shades of the German Luthers and 
 Melancthons (cheers), by the venerated shades of your English 
 Wycliffs and Cranmers (cheers), by the venerated shades of our 
 Scottish Knoxes and Melvilles (loud cheers), we protest and 
 declare that, never, never, would we, in deference to the 
 clamours of any anti-christian faction in Britain or in 
 India (deafening cheers), consent to the diffusion of know¬ 
 ledge in connexion with the missionary enterprize, except in 
 close, intimate, and inseparable alliance with that far higher 
 and sublimer knowledge of the only true religion which is 
 contained in the Bible, the whole Bible, the unmutilated 
 Bible, and nothing but the Bible ! (Immense applause, which 
 lasted for several minutes.) The Reverend Gentleman next 
 adverted at some length to the proceedings of the Govern¬ 
 ment Committee of Public Instruction in India. They have 
 twenty-seven Institutions, in which European science and 
 literature are taught, but not religion. They have ordered 
 
libraries of books from England, for the use of these Insti¬ 
 tutions. Some of the books are excellent; others are use¬ 
 less, such as Cinderella , Tom Thumb , Little Red Riding- 
 hood, the Devil on two Sticks , &c.; and others positively 
 pernicious, as some of Byron’s works, Fielding and Smol¬ 
 lett’s Novels, Hume’s Essays, in which the very foundations 
 of Christianity are attempted to be undermined. What a 
 field for the labours of Bible Societies, and religious book 
 and Tract Societies ! He next proceeded to give some very 
 interesting details respecting the progress and prospects of 
 the Church of Scotland’s Indian Missions—details, some 
 of which produced a very great impression on the audience. 
 He then proposed to consider the second part of the 
 Motion put into his hands, which referred to an increase of 
 liberality and an increase of labourers. I shall, said he, at 
 once proceed to the subject, by asking, as in the sight of the 
 omniscient God, Can it be alleged or pretended that all Chris¬ 
 tians at present give what they really can ? Or, that all have 
 gone forth to the field of labour who are really qualified ? I 
 pause for a reply. But, if things greatly change not from 
 what they are, I may pause for ever. Look at men’s 
 acts, and not at their words ; for I am weaned and disgusted 
 into very loathing at “ great swelling words,” that boil and 
 bubble into foam and froth on the bosom of an impetuous 
 torrent of oratory and then burst into airy nothingness. 
 (Cheers and laughter.) Look at men’s acts, and not at their 
 great swelling words, and tell me what language do they 
 speak ? Is it in very deed a thing so' mighty for one of 
 your merchant princes to rise up on this platform, and pro¬ 
 claim his intense anxiety that contributions should be liberal, 
 and then stimulate those around him by the noble example 
 of embodying his irrepressible anxiety in the magnificent 
 donation of 10?., 20?., or 50?. ! when, at the very moment, 
 without curtailing any of the real necessaries of life—without 
 even abridging any one of its fictitious comforts or luxuries, 
 he might readily consecrate his hundreds or thousands, to be 
 restored more than a hundred-fold on the great day of final 
 recompense ? (Hear, hear.) And call you this an act of 
 such prodigious munificence that it must elicit the shouts 
 and the paeans of an entranced multitude? (Hear, hear.) 
 Call you that an act of such thrilling disinterestedness that it 
 must pierce into hearts otherwise hermetically sealed against 
 the imploring cries of suffering humanity ? (Hear, hear.) 
 Call you this an act of such self-sacrificing generosity that 
 it must be registered for a memorial into the book of God’s 
 remembrance, with the same stamp of Divine approbation as 
 that bestowed on the poor widow in the Gospel, who, though 
 she gave but little, gave her all ? (Applause.) And is it 
 in very deed a thing so mighty for a Christian pastor, whether 
 
7 
 
 bishop, priest, or deacon, or any member of a Church, 
 to abandon for a season his routine of duty, and once in the 
 year to come up, either to regale, or be regaled, with the 
 incense of human applause in this great metropolis,—the 
 emporium of the world’s commerce—the seat of the world’s 
 mightiest empire, and the general rendezvous of men and 
 things unparalleled in all the world besides ? (Hear, hear.) 
 Is it a thing so mighty for any one of these to stand up on 
 this platform, and call on assembled thousands to rise to 
 their true elevation, and acquit themselves like men in the 
 cause of Him who rides on the whirlwind and directs the 
 storm ? And, dismissing all ordinary forms and figures of 
 speech as tame and inadequate, is it an act so heroic to stand 
 on this platform, and break forth into apostrophes, that ring 
 with the din of arms and shout of battle ? And is it an act 
 so heroic at the safe distance of ten thousand miles cou¬ 
 rageously to summon the gates of Pekin to lift up their 
 heads, and its barricades and ramparts to rend asunder at the 
 presence of the heralds of salvation ? and, impersonifying 
 the celestial empire herself, boldly invoke her to send up 
 without delay her hundreds of millions to the house of the 
 Lord, exalted above the hills, and place her Imperial crown 
 on the head of Him on whose head shall be all the crowns of 
 the earth, and the diadem of the universe ? (Loud applause.) 
 Or is it an act of spiritual prowess so mighty, for one who 
 never joined in the conflict to stand up on this platform and 
 rehearse the battles that have been fought in the missionary 
 field, the victories that have been obtained, and the trophies 
 that have been won ? Is it an achievement of never-dying 
 fame to burst into rapture at the unrivalled honour of those 
 brave veterans that have already laid down their lives in 
 storming the citadels of heathenism ? Hark ! here are a few 
 blasts from a trumpet that has often pealed at our great 
 anniversaries. The missionary’s life ? Ah ! u an archangel 
 would come down from the throne, if he might, and feel 
 himself honoured to give up the felicities of heaven for a 
 season for the toils of a missionary’s life.” The missionary’s 
 work ? Ah ! “ the work of a minister at home, as com¬ 
 pared with that of a missionary, is but as the lighting of a 
 parish lamp, to the causing the sun to rise upon an empire 
 that is yet in darkness.” The missionary’s grave ? Ah ! 
 “ the missionary’s grave is far more honourable than the 
 minister’s pulpit.” (Great applause.) After such out¬ 
 pourings of fervent zeal and burning admiration of valour, 
 would ye not expect that the limits of a kingdom were too 
 circumscribed for the range of spirits so chivalrous ? Would 
 ye not expect that intervening oceans and continents could 
 oppose no barrier to their resistless career ? Would ye not 
 expect that, as chieftains at the head of a noble army, 
 
8 
 
 numerous as the phalanxes that erewhile flew from tilt and 
 tournament to glitter in the sunshine of the Holy Land, they 
 should no more be heard of till they made known their pre¬ 
 sence by the terror of their power in shattering to atoms the 
 towering walls of China, and hoisting in triumph the banners 
 of the cross over the captured mosques of Araby and pros¬ 
 trate pagodas of India ? Alas, alas ! what shall we say 
 when the thunder of heroism that reverberates so sublimely 
 over our heads from year to year in Exeter Hall, is found in 
 changeless succession to die away in fainter and yet fainter 
 echoes among the luxurious mansions, the snug dwellings, 
 and goodly parsonages of Old England ? (Loud applause.) 
 Listen to the high-sounding words of the mightiest of our 
 anniversary thunderers on this platform, and would ye not 
 vow that they were heroes with whom the post of honour was 
 the post of danger ? Look at the astounding contrast of 
 their practice, and will not your cheeks redden with the 
 crimson flush of shame, to find that they are cowards, with 
 whom the post of honour is, after all, the post of safety ? 
 And is this the way to wake the long-slumbering spirit of 
 devotedness throughout the land ? Is this the kind of call 
 that will arouse the dormant energies of a sluggish Church ? 
 Is this the kind of summons that will cause a rush of 
 champions into the field of danger and of death ? Is this 
 the kind of example that will stimulate a thousand GutzlafFs 
 to brave the horrors of a barbarous shore ? What will incite 
 thousands of Martyns, and of Careys, and of Morisons, to 
 arm themselves on the consecrated spots where these foremost 
 warriors fell ? I know not what the sentiments of this great 
 audience may be on a subject so momentous: but as for 
 myself, I cannot, at whatever risk of offence to friends, and 
 of ribaldry from enemies—I cannot, without treason to my 
 God and Saviour,—I cannot but give vent to the over¬ 
 powering emotions of my own heart, when in the face of 
 England, Scotland, and Ireland, I exclaim, “ Oh that my 
 head were waters, that mine eyes were a fountain of tears, 
 that I could weep over the fatal, the disastrous inconsistencies, 
 of many of the most renowned of the leaders of the people !” 
 (Applause.) What, then, is to be done ? When are the 
 gigantie evils complained of to be efficiently remedied ? 
 Never, never, till the leading members of our Churches be 
 shamed out of their lavish extravagance in conforming to the 
 fashion of a world that is soon to pass away, and out of their 
 close-fisted penuriousness as regards all claims that concern 
 the eternal destinies of their fellows. Never, never, till the 
 angels of our Churches, whether ordinary pastors or superin¬ 
 tending bishops, be shamed out of their sloth, their treachery, 
 and their cowardice. For rest assured, that people would get 
 weary of the sound of the demand u Give, give,” that is 
 
9 
 
 eternally reiterated in their ears, when those who make it so 
 seldom give, or, what is the same thing, give in such scanty 
 driblets, that it seems a mockery of their own expostulations, 
 and of the sound of the command u Go, go,” when those 
 who make it, are themselves so seldom found willing to 
 go ! How, then, is the remedy to be effected ? Not, believe 
 me, by periodical showers of words, however copious, which 
 fall like snow-flakes in the river,—a moment white, then 
 gone for ever. No ; but by thousands of deeds that shall 
 cause the very scoffer to wonder, even if he should wonder 
 and perish — deeds that shall enkindle into a blaze the 
 smouldering embers of Christian love—deeds that shall re¬ 
 vive the days of primitive devotedness, when men valiant for 
 the truth despised earthly riches, and conquered through 
 sufferings, not counting their lives dear unto the death. 
 (Cheers.) Show me your wealthy citizen who makes a loud 
 profession of the name of Christ come forth, not with nig¬ 
 gardly hand doling out a miserable paltry pittance from his 
 superabounding storehouse; show me him ready to give 
 proof of the sincerity of his profession by casting down the 
 half of his goods at the feet of Jesus for the poor and perish¬ 
 ing ; and if there remain other claims uncancelled from 
 former negligence, ready to requite the obligation fourfold. 
 Show me him striving to emulate the Hebrew monarch, who 
 burned with desire to build a temple to Jehovah, the God of 
 Israel, and who, in the full ardour of his zeal, and the 
 rushing of the tide of gratitude, at once proceeded from 
 desire to action. And he opened his ample treasury, 
 and poured forth of its gold, and silver, and iron, and 
 brass, and onyx-stones, and glittering stones, and all 
 manner of precious stones, to be employed in erecting and 
 adorning the goodly edifice. And, fired with the forth- 
 putting of his own generosity, and borne away with the 
 glare of his own holy enthusiasm, he communicated the 
 sacred impulse to the hosts of his people when, with the 
 confident boldness of one who had himself made ample 
 sacrifices, he cried out in their hearing, “ And who then is 
 willing to consecrate his service this day unto the Lord ?” 
 And may I not now appeal to you as men and as Christians, 
 whether self-sacrificing examples of this description would 
 not do a hundred times more to melt down the frozen hearts 
 of an age of superficial, fashionable Evangelism, than a thou¬ 
 sand sermons in our pulpits, and a thousand speeches 
 from our platforms. (Loud cheers.) Again, show 
 me the Christian men who, unlike the archangels 
 that cannot leave their thrones, may, if they will, re¬ 
 linquish, in a single hour, all their stations of dignity, all 
 their offices of State, and all their high temporal prerogatives. 
 Show me the Christian men, the praises of whose condition 
 
10 
 
 resound through the annals of literature, ready to go forth, 
 and on an errand of salvation ready to bend their lofty in¬ 
 tellects to the capacities of the poor and illiterate. Show me 
 the men, the fame of whose sacred eloquence never fails to 
 attract overwhelming crowds of eager listeners, ready to go 
 forth and preach the unsearchable riches of Christ, though it 
 might be in broken accents and a stammering tongue. Show 
 me the men, the skill of whose statesmanship calls forth the 
 plaudits of admiring senates, ready to go forth on the god¬ 
 like embassy of causing the Indian, and the negro, and the 
 rude barbarian, to know the Divine and glorious conquest 
 once achieved on Calvary. Show me the men, whose brows 
 are encircled with the mitre or the coronet, ready to cast both 
 down at their Master’s feet, and go forth into heathen lands, 
 prepared to suffer and prepared to die, and in dying earn to 
 themselves the nobler crown of martyrdom. Show me one 
 and all of our loud-talking professors, from the peer of the 
 realm down to the humblest pastor or member of a flock, not 
 satisfied with reducing their services into the wretched inanity 
 of an occasional sermon, or a speech easily pronounced and 
 calling for no sacrifice. Show me one and all of these, 
 joyfully prepared to respond to their Master’s summons. 
 And when the loud cry is raised, Who will march to the battle¬ 
 field ? who will go up to the help of the Lord against the 
 mighty ? let us hear the prompt and eager reply from a 
 thousand voices, “ Lord, here am I; send me.” And I ap¬ 
 peal to you as men and as Christians, whether examples like 
 these of self-devotedness would not do a hundred times more 
 to stir up the spirit of apostles and martyrs, that has been 
 allowed to slumber for ages in their tombs, than thousands of 
 sermons and thousands of speeches, though delivered in 
 higher strains than ever angel sung. (Great applause.) But 
 I shall be told I am now trespassing beyond the bounds of 
 reason and sobriety, yea, that 1 am soaring on no waxen wings 
 into the regions of wildest utopianism ? What!—it will be said, 
 and that too by numbers who make flaming professions of the 
 name of Christ,—what! philosophers, and pulpit orators, 
 and statesmen, and Lords spiritual, and Lords temporal, who 
 reckon it no small stretch of magnanimity and condescension 
 to take missionaries, who theoretically constitute the highest, 
 but practically the lowest and most despised caste of Christian 
 pastors, under the ample shield of their patronage and pro¬ 
 tection ? What! expect them to descend from their 
 eminences of honour, and go forth themselves, content with 
 the humble fare, and arrayed in the humble attire of self- 
 denying missionaries? Is not this the very climax of re¬ 
 ligious raving ? Gracious God! and is it really so ? 
 Has it really come to this among the thousands that bend the 
 knee to the name of Jesus, that the very proposal that they 
 
11 
 
 should, one and all of them, be ready to imitate their Lord 
 and Master, must be unceremoniously classed in the category 
 of lunacy ? And are we really bent on bringing heaven 
 down to earth, instead of exalting earth to heaven? Are 
 we in right earnest resolved to adjust the Divine standard of 
 what ought to be, by the human standard of what is ? Are 
 we in sober seriousness determined to contract the calculus 
 of eternity, within the narrow dimensions of the arithmetic of 
 time ? Do I now stand in an assembly of professing Chris¬ 
 tians? Well, £ ‘Who is this that cometh from Edom, 
 with dyed garments from Bozrah ?** It is the Man who is 
 Jehovah’s fellow. It is Immanuel, God with us. But 
 who can pourtray the underived, the incomparable excel¬ 
 lencies of Him, in whom dwelt all the fulness of the God¬ 
 head bodily ? In this contemplation we are at once lost in 
 an unmeasurable ocean of overpowering glory. Imagination 
 is bewildered; language fails. Go take a survey of the earth 
 we dwell upon ; collect every object and every quality that 
 has been pronounced fair, sweet, or lovely ; combine these 
 into one resplendent orb of beauty : then leave the bounds 
 of earth; wing your flight through the fields of immensity ; 
 in your progress collect what is fair and lovely in every 
 world, what is bright and dazzling in every sun; combine 
 these into other orbs of surpassing brightness, and thus con¬ 
 tinue to swell the number of magnificent aggregates, till 
 the whole immense extent of creation is exhausted. And 
 after having united these myriads of bright orbs into one 
 glorious constellation, combining in itself the concentrated 
 beauty and loveliness of the whole created universe, go and 
 compare an atom to a world, a drop to the ocean, the twink¬ 
 ling of a taper to the full blaze of the noon-tide sun; and 
 then may you compare even this all-comprehending con¬ 
 stellation of beauty and loveliness with the boundless, the 
 ineffable beauty and excellence of Him who is “ The bright¬ 
 ness of his Father’s glory,” who is “ God over all, blessed 
 for ever.” And yet wonder, O heavens; and rejoice, O earth ; 
 this great, and mighty, and glorious Being did for our sakes 
 condescend to veil his glory and appear on earth as a man of 
 sorrows, whose visage was so marred more than any man’s, and 
 his form more than the sons of men. Oh, is not this love ! self- 
 sacrificing love ! love, that is “ higher than the heights 
 above, deeper than the depths beneath ?” Oh, is not this 
 condescension, self-sacrificing condescension, condescension 
 without a parallel and without a name ? God manifest in 
 the flesh! God manifest in the flesh, for the redemption of 
 a rebel race ! Oh, is not this the wonder of a world ? Is 
 not this the astonishment of a universe ? And in the view 
 of love so ineffable, and condescension so unfathomable, tell 
 me, oh, tell me, if it would seem aught so strange—I will 
 
J 
 
 12 
 
 not say in the eye of poor, dim, beclouded humanity—but in 
 the eye of that celestial hierarchy, that caused heaven’s arches 
 to ring with anthems of adoring wonder when they beheld 
 the brightness of the Father’s glory go forth eclipsed, 
 mysteriously to sojourn on earth and tread the winepress 
 alone, red in his apparel and his garments dyed in blood ? 
 Tell me, oh tell me, if in their cloudless vision it would seem 
 aught so marvellous, so passing strange, did they behold the 
 greatest and the mightiest of a guilty race, redeemed them¬ 
 selves at so vast a price, cheerfully prepared to relinquish 
 their highest honours and fairest possessions, their loveliest 
 academic bowers, and stateliest palaces ; yea, did they behold 
 Royalty itself retire and cast aside its robes of purple, its 
 sceptre and its diadem, and issue forth in the footsteps of 
 the Divine Redeemer into the waste, howling wilderness of 
 sin, to seek and to save them that are lost? Ye grovelling 
 sons of earth, call this fanaticism if you will; brand it as 
 wild enthusiasm, I care not for the verdict. From you I ap¬ 
 peal to the glorious sons of light, and ask, Was not this 
 in principle the very enthusiasm of patriarchs, who rejoiced 
 to see the day of Christ afar off, and were glad ? Was not 
 this the enthusiasm of prophets, whose harps, inspired by the 
 mighty theme, were raised into strains of more than earthly 
 grandeur? Was not this the enthusiasm of angels, that 
 made the plains of Bethlehem ring with the jubilee of peace 
 on earth and good-will to the children of men ? Was not this 
 the enthusiasm of apostles and martyrs, who gloried in the 
 flames of the funeral pile as their most illustrious apparel ? 
 Was not this the enthusiasm (with reverence be it spoken), 
 of the eternal Son of God himself, when he came forth tra¬ 
 vailing in the greatness of his strength to endure the agony 
 of bloody sweat ? And if this be enthusiasm, that is kindled 
 by no earthly fire, and which when once kindled, burns 
 without being consumed, how must the hopes of the 
 Church lie sleeping in the tomb, where it does not exist! 
 Oh, until a larger measure of this Divine enthusiasm be dif¬ 
 fused through the Churches of Christendom, never, never, 
 need we expect to realize the reign of millennial glory, when 
 all nature shall once more be seen glorying in the first bloom 
 of Eden, where one bond shall unite, and one feeling animate, 
 all nations ; where all kindreds, and tribes, and tongues, and 
 people shall combine in one song, one universal shout of 
 grateful (( Hallelujah unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, 
 and to the Lamb for ever and ever.” (The Rev. Gentle¬ 
 man sat down amid the most tremendous cheers, which lasted 
 several minutes ) 
 
 Macintosh, Printer, 20, Great New-street, London.